Page 6 of The Unwanted Duchess

“Samantha,” she mocked, imitating his tone. “That is all you ever say. Samantha, do this, or I will do this. Samantha, say that, or I will do that. Samantha, Samantha, Samantha. It is a funny name, is it not?”

At last, she realized that she could not remain composed enough to say all that she wanted to say. She needed to do as she was told, and she needed to go to bed. Her father would be furious by morning, but that hardly changed anything from her usual life.Besides, it was not as though he could use his usual punishment with others in attendance.

“Goodnight, Father,” she said sweetly, stumbling back into the household.

Her father followed her, which she hated. He was always there, breathing down her neck. Then again, that small part of her that seemed able to see sense knew that he was likely ensuring that she was simply going to the correct room.

As she passed through the hallway, there was the horrid duke that continued to stare at her. This time, however, he seemed almost amused by her state. Had she been in a clearer state of mind, she might have said something to him, but even she knew that it would not end well, and so she simply glared at him and hoped that would be enough.

“Stay in here,” her father ordered once they arrived. “If I could lock you in, I would.”

“I already know that to be true,” Samantha slurred, but her father did not find her amusing in the least.

“Bed,” he commanded, and with a small nod, she turned and entered, the door closing firmly behind her.

In truth, the only reason that she obeyed was because it was what Diana would have told her to do anyway. She was certainlynot going to do what her father said out of respect or any such thing. Not in her state.

Besides, her bed did look quite comfortable. Throwing herself onto it, she proved her theory to be true. It was incredible, almost as blissful as the damp grass. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift off.

It was still dark outside when she awoke. She was rather dazed and very much confused, and she wondered if she had slept through the entire day, and now, it was night once more. It was strange, not knowing when it was. She still could not think clearly, and she knew that whenever she had felt like that before, all that she had to do was cross the hallway and talk to Diana. Her older sister had always known what to do, and she was very rarely wrong.

If someone knew what to do, it would be her.

And so, in spite of her orders, she creaked her door open and stepped into the dark hallway. The door seemed to have moved, but she found it quickly enough and slipped into the room.

“Diana?” she whispered to no response.

She must have been asleep. It made perfect sense; it was the middle of the night, after all. Yes, her sister would be fast asleep, and Samantha would join her and fall asleep easier, and then they would discuss what happened in the morning.

She climbed into the bed, resting her head on the pillow and sighing deeply. She felt a heavy arm wrap around her waist which was quite the comfort. There was such warmth in it, and since Diana had left, she had hardly received any of that, and so she clung to it.

She did not notice that anything was amiss for a moment, simply enraptured by how at peace she wanted to feel. She realized that the arm around her was far larger than Diana’s ever was, but she was also aware of her condition and so did not feel the need to trust her own judgment.

“Can you not sleep?” a voice whispered.

Samantha froze. The voice was deep and surly, decisively not Diana’s. It was unmistakable.

It was a man.

CHAPTER 3

It was likely not what the other guests were expecting (being awoken in the middle of the night by a scream), but that is likely what happened to many of them.

Samantha could not help it, and she certainly wished that she were able to as she stumbled out of the bed and landed on the floor on her stomach. She kept her forehead pressed against the floor for a moment, willing herself to wake up and find herself in her own bed once more, but it did not happen.

She was in a gentleman’s room, in hisbed, and now…

“What are you doing?” she ordered, and though she could not see anything, she heard him sitting up and then lighting a candle, and in the warm glow of it, she could see the most unmistakable pair of blue eyes looking back at her.

“You,” she breathed. “Where is Diana?”

“Who is Diana? Lady Samantha, are you well?”

Samantha knew that she was not thinking correctly, but she was still so sure that this was her sister’s room, and there was a gentleman that was in there that was not her sister, nor was he her sister’s husband. He shouldn’t have been there.

“What are you doing here?”

“It is my room,” he whispered pointedly. “What areyoudoing here?”

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