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Braden started to shrug off his coat. “I am a Highlander, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m familiar with a variety of weapons, including the blade.”
Donny studied him for a moment and then nodded. “I’ll leave ye to it, sir. My lady is a bit rusty with her footwork, just so ye ken.”
“I am not,” Samantha muttered.
Braden tried to hide a smile. “How unfortunate. We’ll be sure to work on that.”
“You really are an annoying man,” she said after Donny left the room.
Braden draped his coat over the sofa and began rolling up his sleeves. “I suspect that I’m the least annoying person you know.”
“Well, you must admit that you can be a fussbudget.”
He flashed her the roguish smile that never failed to make her heart skip a beat. “Someone needs to fuss over you, love.”
“My staff fusses over me just fine. Besides, I don’t like to bother you when you’re already so busy.”
“Samantha, I’m your husband. You can always bother me.” He studied her for a moment. “Now, why don’t you tell me what this is truly about? Why the sudden urge to drag Donny into a workout? You know we’ve got everything covered. Nothing will happen without us knowing about it.”
“I have to be ready, Braden. We’ve never been this close before, and I just know something is going to happen soon.”
“Very likely it will. But I’m hoping that when it does, my wife will not be in the middle of a knife fight, or worse.”
Samantha couldn’t help bristling. “You’re not to keep me away from this, Braden. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“I haven’t kept you away,” he protested. “Everything that Logan has uncovered, I’ve shared with you, have I not?”
She expelled an irritated breath, though her irritation was with herself more than him. “Yes.”
Not that she’d responded particularly well to what he’d told her. When she’d learned about Haxton’s certain involvement in defrauding the foundation, she’d wanted to storm over to the blighter’s townhouse and hold a pistol to his head. Braden had finally convinced her that it would be unwise to show their cards this early.
“And you trust me, don’t you, love?” Braden quietly asked.
Whenever he used that endearment, Samantha’s heart melted into a puddle. Still, she could hear the note of quiet dismay in his voice, as if he feared she didn’t trust him.
She sighed and flopped down on the sofa. “Of course I trust you. I’m sorry for being so difficult.”
He sat beside her, taking her hand and raising it briefly to his lips. The tender gesture made her heart ache with longing.
“Please tell me how I can help you,” he said.
“It’s all this sitting around,” she burst out. “It’s driving me mad, if you must know.”
He gave her a quizzical smile. “Seems to me we’ve done very little sitting around, lately.”
She had to admit that was true. In the past week they’d spent considerable time Christmas shopping with Felicity, purchasing gifts for the Kendrick family and various friends. While Samantha would rather die than admit it, she’d thoroughly enjoyed spending money on presents and treats without worrying if she’d have to stretch the food bill to the end of the month.
They’d had several other outings, too. Since there’d been snow, Braden had arranged a sleigh ride for the children, taking Angus along to tell his hilarious stories about the Kendrick brothers. As well, they’d had lovely suppers at Heriot Row and visits with John and Bathsheba.
Braden had also taken her to one of his lectures. It was brilliant, as she could have anticipated, and she’d been immensely proud of him. Finally, they’d spent time at his clinic, where she’d seen firsthand how good he was with his patients. He treated all of them with compassion and courtesy, be it a worried young mother with a sick child or a rough-edged dockhand.
Clearly, she’d married an extraordinary man. Even more clearly, Samantha now realized she was thoroughly in love with Braden, but she didn’t quite know what to do about that. To simply blurt out such a declaration, especially in light of their wedding night discussion, seemed rather absurd. He’d insisted on giving her time and yet here she was, barely ten days later, madly in love. The poor man would think her daft.
And, of course, there was still the matter of—
Braden gently tapped her on the nose. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
“Um, not much.” She winced when he chuckled. “Sorry, what was the question again?”
