Jamie smiled, but his gaze was on Lady Everard. “Oh no, ma’am. I’m here at Kendrick Hall to stay. This is my home.”
Samantha kept her gaze on her tea, and her look was not nearly as bright as it had been in the other room. By now, Will was certain she was not one to shrink away from conflict. Was she trying to discourage his son, or draw him out with her silence?
“I imagine you will make a very fine earl one day,” Mrs. Dallsten Walcott said with a nod to confirm her opinion. “Once you have set up your nursery, of course.” She tittered like a young girl.
Samantha shot her a narrow-eyed glance. “I’m sure James has other plans at the moment.”
Mrs. Dallsten Walcott took a sip of her tea and said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her arched brows spoke for her.
“Lord Wentworth is planning to help me manage our holdings,” Will felt compelled to put in. “He also intends to reacquaint himself with his neighbors. Isn’t that right, James?”
“Exactly right, Father,” Jamie agreed. “I have a lot of catching up to do, with friends, with family. And I think I’ve nearly forgotten how to fish. Remember how Grandfather used to take us up to the Evendale, Samantha?”
That brought her head up. “Oh, yes,” she said with a grin to Jamie. “And I remember how many times you fell in.”
Will nearly winced as his son colored. “I still caught my fish, didn’t I?” Jamie challenged.
“Always,” she assured him. “And they were delicious cooked for dinner. I remember that, too!”
He set down his cup and saucer on the little ornamental table beside him. “Count on it, then. I’ll catch you a dozen of the biggest fish in the Evendale so you can have them every night for a week.”
Samantha’s spine straightened so quickly the points of her collar stuck out. Jamie had clearly overstepped himself, and Will thought he knew why.
“Perhaps Lady Everard would prefer to catch her own fish,” he offered and hoped his son would take the hint.
Samantha beamed at him, obviously pleased he’d understood. He refused to preen.
Mrs. Dallsten Walcott was less willing to agree. “Of course she doesn’t!” she all but scolded and threw in a shudder for good measure. “You catch those horrid smelly creatures, Lord Wentworth, as a gentleman should. Lady Everard and I will stay safely in the manor.”
Jamie, unfortunately, did not have the sense to hide his pride at her words. He visibly brightened, chin coming up.
Samantha scowled at him. “Do not look so pleased, sir. You should know I’m not one to let others have all the fun or make all the effort.”
His son must have realized his error, for he lowered his head. “Of course. Forgive me. I’d be delighted to take you fishing. And if you don’t care to fish, perhaps there’s something else we might do together.”
The yearning in the lad’s voice cut into Will. He thought he understood what had bonded his son and Lady Everard when they were younger, despite the differences in their ages and genders. Jamie had been an only child being raised by his grandfather; she had been an only child being raised by her governess, with only occasional visits from her father. With Kendrick Hall so close to Dallsten Manor, it was natural the two should band together.
But now their lives were different. Jamie had been away at school, and Will knew that Eton was a far cry from the rest of the world. Samantha Everard had seen more of that world, if only in England. The way Will had found her crying in the library said she’d seen heartache. Could Jamie appreciate the woman she’d become?
If she had a similar thought, she didn’t show it. Nor did she take the opportunity Jamie had offered to monopolize his attentions. “There’s always the summer party,” she offered with a gentle smile. “Everyone comes to that.”
Again, Will felt his son’s pain. “Yes, I suppose so,” Jamie said, looking away.
But in doing so, he missed the struggle Will could see in Samantha. Her golden brows lowered, and her hand twitched in her lap as if she longed to reach out to Jamie. What was going on inside her? Was she interested in capturing Jamie’s heart, or not?
As if making a decision, she put a hand on Jamie’s arm. “Tell you what—you always wanted to learn to fence. Why don’t I teach you?”
Will brought his cup to his mouth and took a sip to hide his groan. Lady Everard might have more experience in Society, but both of them needed lessons in diplomacy!
Jamie washed white and pulled away from her touch. “I learned to fence at Eton, thank you very much. What kind of man do you think me that I need a girl to teach me?”
“A girl?” There went her back up once more.
Mrs. Dallsten Walcott tittered again. “How silly. I’m certain it was just a jest. Tell Lord Wentworth it was just a jest, Samantha.”
Samantha’s lips were so tight Will didn’t think a word could have escaped. Indeed, all her emotions were leaping in her dark eyes. This needed to end.
He set down his cup. “I’m sure you’d agree, madam,” he said to Mrs. Dallsten Walcott, “that there’s no need to apologize for an acquired skill. Nor would Lady Everard be the first woman to acquire it.”
Mrs. Dallsten Walcott gasped as if he’d suggested all men start wearing petticoats.
Samantha, however, relaxed in her seat. “It’s excellent exercise,” she said, but more as if she were stating a fact than justifying her pastime. “So is boxing.”
He thought Mrs. Dallsten Walcott might have apoplexy. Even Jamie was regarding his friend with something akin to shock.
“It certainly is,” Will temporized. “James is rather good at that as well.” He gave his son a nod of encouragement. “But he excels at the blade. I imagine he’d be delighted to show you, Lady Everard.”
Once more she beamed at him, and he felt as if he were the most clever fellow on the planet. When she turned that smile to Jamie, the room seemed to dim.
“What do you say, Jamie?” she asked. “Shall we fence?”
“Now, now,” Mrs. Dallsten Walcott interrupted. “This has gone far enough. A match between a man and a woman is unseemly.”
Though Will knew many who would agree, hearing the sentiment expressed so vehemently made him question it. Why shouldn’t a lady fence with a gentleman, if both were willing and skilled? He’d never been one to confine a person, by age, class or gender. Why start now?
Samantha frowned at her chaperone. “I’ve fenced with men before. Cousin Vaughn taught me the basic moves years ago, and I’ve had bouts with my cousins Jerome and Richard as well.”
“And I’m certain you taught them a thing or two,” Will said before Mrs. Dallsten Walcott could protest further. “It sounds as if you quite enjoy the sport.”
“More than I should,” she admitted with a bubbly laugh, her composure restored. “You must fence as well, my lord.”
Will shrugged, but Jamie spoke up. “He’s an expert. You should join us Monday afternoon for our weekly bout.”
Will tensed and wasn’t sure why. He had no doubt he could hold his own with the blade. He was starting to fear he would have far less luck with his heart. He held his breath as she gazed at Jamie.
She had to see how much her answer meant to the lad. Emotion simmered in Jamie’s eyes, tension tightened the skin across his nose. He wanted her to fence with him, more than anything.
“Very well, then, James,” she said. “If it pleases you.”