The Bride Thief

She turned and looked directly into his eyes with a bleak expression that sent a chill through him. 'How it would feel to jump from the cliff. To fall into that churning, frigid water.'

Shocked, he pulled the horses to a halt. He searched her face, looking for any indication she might be speaking in jest, but there was no mistaking the horrible truth to her words.

He swallowed hard. 'I'm sorry,' he said, inwardly cringing at the inadequacy of his words. 'I had no idea. All these years… I thought you were happy.'

'The only thing that brought me happiness was thoughts of home. Of one day being able to return here.'

Questions buzzed through his mind. What had happened in Cornwall to make her so unhappy? Clearly the separation from her home and her brother had greatly affected her. He cursed his own stupidity for not considering such a possibility, but he'd just assumed she would flourish in her new surroundings. He'd pictured her presiding over elegant soirees, being feted and admired by all of Society. And even if he had considered that she might not be happy, what could he possibly have done? Nothing.

Although her marriage had broken his heart, she had to marry in accordance with her father's wishes. 'Twas only right that she do so. He'd wished her well, secure in the knowledge that she would be pampered by a wealthy nobleman who would worship the ground she walked upon.

Yet she'd been unhappy. Had Lord Darvin not showered her with affection? It seemed impossible to credit. What man would not love her to distraction? No, it must be something else-

The answer hit him like a punch in the gut. No doubt the fact that she had not borne a child was the source of her unhappiness. He recalled her saying on more than one occasion how she longed for a large family some day, and how he'd hidden his misery behind a smile, knowing he could never marry her and therefore be the one to provide her with the children she wanted.

Pity gripped him, and without thinking, he reached out and covered her clenched hands with one of his own. Her eyes widened slightly, but she made no move to pull away from his touch. With his heart pounding as if he'd run a mile, he said, 'I hope being home brings you the happiness you deserve, Lady Darvin.'

She studied him for several seconds with an expression he could not decipher, then murmured, 'Thank you.' She then returned her gaze back to the path in front of them. 'I'd like to go home now.'

'Of course.' He reluctantly withdrew his hand from atop hers, knowing he'd never have another opportunity to touch her so intimately again. Filled with a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, he grasped the reins, then set the horses in motion toward Wesley Manor.

Sammie thought the hour Eric spent drinking tea with her and her parents in the drawing room had passed innocently enough. The moment he departed, however, she realized her naivete.

'Oh, did you see that, Charles?' Mama asked breathlessly.

Papa looked at her over the top of his bifocals. 'See what?'

'Why, Lord Wesley, courting our daughter.'

Sammie nearly choked on a mouthful of tea. While she attempted to catch her breath, Papa frowned and said, 'Well of course I saw Wesley. Impossible to miss the fellow, especially since he sat directly across from me. But all I saw him doing was drinking tea and enjoying these biscuits. Very good biscuits, by the way.'

Mama waved an impatient hand at him. 'Lord Wesley would not take tea with us for no reason. He was courting, I tell you. Oh, I cannot wait to tell Lydia-'

'Mama,' Sammie gasped out. She coughed several times, finally managing to catch her breath. 'Lord Wesley is not courting me.'

'Of course he is.' She clapped her hands in front of her, and her face took on a rapturous expression. 'Oh my word, Charles, our darling Samantha shall be a countess!'

Alarm raced through Sammie. Good heavens, why hadn't she anticipated such a reaction from Mama? No doubt because the magistrate's visit, coupled with her disturbing conversation with Eric in the Chamber, had interrupted her logical thought processes. Besides, she'd dismissed the possibility of anyone believing Eric would court her as completely illogical-yet here it was, staring her in the face. Something was horribly wrong with her logic of late, and the timing could not have been worse.

Well, she had to stop this at once. Before Mama started planning a wedding that would never occur. Rising from the settee, she strode across the room to her mother and grasped both her hands.

'Mama. Lord Wesley came today at Hubert's invitation. To see Hubert. To look at Hubert's latest invention. Do you understand?'

Mama sent her an exasperated look. 'Well, of course I understand, Samantha. But clearly his visit with Hubert was simply a ruse to see you' A sly gleam flashed in her eyes. 'I watched him very closely and caught him looking at you one time with an expression that could only be described as 'interested.''

'I'm certain he merely had dust in his eye,' Sammie said, trying to hold the desperate note creeping into her voice at bay.

'Nonsense.' Mama reached out and patted Sammie's cheek. 'Trust me, darling. A mother knows these things.'

Sammie drew a deep, calming breath. 'Mama, I assure you the earl has no interest whatsoever in making me his countess.' That, at least, was the truth. 'I beg you not to misinterpret what is nothing more than simple politeness on his part. If you do, he will no doubt withdraw his friendship from Hubert. I know your intentions are good, but surely you can see how embarrassing it would be for both Lord Wesley and myself if it were suggested he were a suitor.'

'I see nothing of the sort. Indeed, what I see is that one of the most eligible bachelors in England has taken a fancy to my daughter. Do you not agree, Charles?' She shot her husband an annoyed glare when he did not answer. 'Charles?'

Sammie's father, slumped comfortably in his favorite chair, awakened with a snort. 'Eh? What's that?'

'Do you not agree that Samantha would make an admirable countess?'

'Mama, I would make an appalling countess.'

'Heavens, I only dozed for a moment. Did I miss a proposal?' Papa asked, blinking behind his bifocals.

'No!' Sammie all but shouted. Dear God, this situation had gotten totally out of hand, and only served to strengthen her resolve to end things with Eric tonight-before Mama arranged to announce the banns. 'There is nothing between Lord Wesley and I.' Or there won't be after tonight. 'Do not even consider spreading tales that the man is interested in me. I'll not have this interference.'

Mama stared at her with a stunned expression. 'I'm not interfering-'

'You are. And it will accomplish nothing except causing me embarrassment. Is that what you want?'

'Certainly not,' Mama all but huffed. 'But-'

'No 'buts', Mama. And no more matchmaking.' Sammie blew out a deep breath. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have several letters to write.' She left the drawing room, closing the door behind her with a smart snap.

Cordelia stared at the closed door and whooshed out a frustrated breath. She turned toward her husband and treated him to a narrow-eyed stare when he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'well done, Sammie.'

Oh, what a vexing situation! Here was an earl, practically sitting on their doorstep like a gift from above, and she was the only one who recognized this golden opportunity. Well, of course recognizing such opportunities was a mother's responsibility, but how both Sammie and Charles could be so obtuse was a mystery of gargantuan proportions.

Well, she had seen that hungry look in Lord Wesley's eye when he'd thought himself unobserved. He was smitten with Samantha, she'd stake her life on it. Oooh, just the thought of lauding a proposal from an earl over Lydia's head shivered anticipation down her spine. Lord Wesley was a fine gentleman who she knew would make Samantha very happy. What woman in her right mind wouldn't find the dashing nobleman attractive? And even if he weren't terribly attractive, he was terribly wealthy. And well-connected.

Oh, it was a mother's dream come true! The possibilities were all but dizzying. Indeed, now that she thought of it, she felt rather lightheaded. She glanced over at Charles, then pursed her lips. Drat. No point having a spell when