Samantha (Barrett 2)

He glanced at the marchioness. "Clarissa, will you excuse us?1'

"But of course, Stephen. I'd never stand in the way of so handsome a couple." Clarissa's face was the picture of innocence.

Stephen guided Sammy onto the dance floor, keeping her hand securely in his. "I've missed you."

"It's only been a few days." Sammy scanned the ballroom quickly. Rem was nowhere in sight.

"It feels much longer. I looked for you at every ball I attended. Where were you?"

"I..." An inner voice warned Sammy to be cautious. She suspected there was no great love between Stephen and Rem. "I haven't been out much. My lady's maid left me and I've been training a new one."

"I see. Well, I'm delighted. I feared you'd been swept off your feet by some unworthy rogue." Rem's name hung between them. "I hope your appearance tonight means you're ready to resume enjoying your first Season."

"Yes, of course."

"Have you had the opportunity to see all of Carlton House?" Anders inquired as the strings fell silent.

"No, but—"

"Let me take you on a tour, then; it's really quite spectacular."

"Well, I..." What choice did she have? He was already leading her through the sky-lit vestibule and beyond. Most of the rooms were brimming with people, Sammy noted in relief. And at least she needn't face Clarissa.

It was on their way back to the party that Stephen managed to get her alone, in a small corner of the hallway. "Samantha ... I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." His knuckles grazed her cheek. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

Sammy drew away. "Please, Stephen, you're embarrassing me."

"I'd like to do much more than speak the words, if you'll let me."

"There are scores of people about," she protested, inching backward.

"We can go somewhere and be alone."

"I don't think—"

"I'll go as slowly as you want me to."

"I think the lady is saying no, Anders."

Rem's voice was quiet, but lethal.

Sammy's knees began to shake.

"My conversation with Lady Samantha does not concern you, Gresham. Kindly go off and seek entertainment elsewhere."

"I'd like to break your jaw," Rem responded calmly. "Say the word, and I shall."

"Remington—don't." Twin spots of red stained Sammy's cheeks. "Please."

He took in her expression and nodded. "Very well. But I do insist on escorting you back to the party."

"When did you become so gallant?" Anders mocked.

"Stephen, don't make a scene, please." Sammy lay her hand on his arm. "I think it's best if I do go back to the party. Aunt Gertie will be looking for me anyway."

"As you wish." Stephen bowed stiffly, his icy gaze fixed on Rem. "We'll talk another time."

"Yes, fine." Gathering up her skirts, Sammy made her way to the ballroom.