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Wilhelmina glanced out the window as she left the bedchamber. The rain had not let up. It looked as though the storm would last a while longer. Which meant she might have an entire afternoon with Sam.
She could not decide if the fluttering in her belly was anxiety or anticipation. Or just the idiotic girlish reaction she had whenever Sam Pellow, however briefly, walked back into her life again.
Chapter Two
Sam was glad he had not ordered tea right away because, as he ought to have expected, the duchess had not yet returned after half an hour. He’d spent the greater part of his years living in close quarters with men, and sometimes forgot how long it took a lady to “shake off the dust of the road.” It was one of those things about women that tested the patience of many men, but that Sam always found rather endearing. He liked the idea that ladies always wanted to look their best. But today it only gave him more time to ponder this unexpected encounter. He was encouraged by their brief exchange, which had been neither awkward nor strained. She had been perfectly open and friendly; none of her protective hackles were up, as they sometimes had been in the past. But those hackles had always been thrown up in defense of his own undisguised disdain. It had taken many years for Sam not to feel betrayed by her decision to lead such an infamous life. Discovering what had become of Willie had changed his own life forever. He no longer harbored romantic illusions of any kind where women were concerned. Willie had cured him of that weakness. Or so he’d always thought, until he found himself in London seeking her out. Not once, but twice. It had been a fool’s errand each time, but he’d never been rational where Willie was concerned.
By the time he’d come to terms with the fact that she had only done what she could to survive after her shrew of a mother had tossed her out on her ear, it was too late to effect the sort of reconciliation he’d wanted. She had married and become a grand lady, a duchess.
She was widowed now, though. That piece of news had been something of a jolt. This serendipitous meeting at an old country i
No, today it would simply be two old friends who hadn’t met for years, catching up with each other’s lives. He would enjoy that. And when they’d grown easy in their conversation, perhaps she would allow him to apologize for his past behavior, for judging her so harshly.
A lull in the noise and general conversation in the room allowed Sam to hear bustling in the entry hall. When he saw the duchess through the doorway, escorted by Grissom, the i
By all rights, a woman of her age should not look so appealing, and yet a brief surge of sexual desire crested and broke like a wave inside him. It was pure stupidity, of course. They were both too old for such nonsense. His only excuse was that he had been without a woman for too long.
But damn it all, she looked good. Without the bo
But it was the way she moved that stirred his loins. A sort of feline grace that drew all eyes to her as she crossed the public room. The skirts of her white dress flowed elegantly as she walked, hinting at the curve of thigh and hip beneath, and the bodice dipped into a deep vee that revealed a tantalizing glimpse of bosom. Even at her age she radiated an irresistible sensuality. Was it a performance, well practiced, or had it always been there, drawing him from the start, all those years ago?
“Duchess,” he said as he held out a hand to her.
“Thank you, Sam.” She took his hand and allowed him to guide her up the two steps to the alcove. When she was seated, she looked up at him and smiled. “I am sorry to have been so long. You have no idea how complicated a process it can be for ladies to dress, even with help.”
“It was worth the wait,” he said as he took the seat across from her. “You look beautiful.”
She chuckled. “Sam! You have become a flatterer.”
He smiled and shrugged, a bit embarrassed that he had spoken his thoughts aloud. He was saved from responding by the arrival of no less than Mrs. Grissom with a pot of tea and a serving girl with a tray of crusty bread and butter and jam. The tea service was obviously her best china-not the heavy blue and white dishes that lined the old deal dressers flanking the fireplace, but delicately thin-walled pieces such as Sam had brought his wife from the East Indies.
“Here you are, Your Grace, a nice pot of my best Bohea. And more ale for you, Cap’n.” Mrs. Grissom and the girl unloaded their trays and arranged everything on the table just so, as if they were in the finest restaurant in London instead of the old Blue Boar in Upper Hampden. “The bread’s fresh baked, and there’s good local butter and my own blackberry jam. If there’s anything else you need, you just ask Lizzie here to fetch it for you.”
The duchess offered effusive thanks and the i
“What brings you to this part of England?” she asked. “I confess I was astonished to see you here.”
“No more astonished than I was to see you. I somehow imagined you never left London.”
“Oh, I sometimes follow the beau monde to Brighton or a country house party. I have just come from one, in fact, and was on my way home when this wretched storm broke through. But this is a charming old i
“I am a more intrepid traveler, I fear. I am simply waiting for the rain to stop and I will be on my way.”
“To…?”
“I am to visit friends who live a bit north of here. But I must say, Willie, that I am delighted to have met you here. It has been such a long time since I’ve seen you.”
“Ten years.”
His brows lifted in surprise. “Sink me, has it been ten years?” Could it really be that long? Yes, it had been 1804, during that long leave after Sarah’s death, before Trafalgar. It was the last time he’d visited London, in fact. He had not even come to town for Nelson’s funeral in 1806. Oh yes, he remembered his last meeting with Willie quite vividly. It was when he learned she had married the Duke of Hertford, and he had barely avoided making a prime fool of himself.
And yet she knew exactly how long it had been. Lord, he hoped the date wasn’t burned in her memory because of his bumbling behavior.
“How have you been, Willie?”
“Very well, thank you.” She looked up from pouring tea and caught his eye. “That was not merely an idle question, was it? Yes, I am indeed very well. I have a good life. I have become quite a respectable widow, you see. But what of you? With the wars over, have you come home to stay a while?”
“More than a while. With Boney confined to Elba, there is little activity for the navy in Europe. And I have no desire to join the war in America. Instead, I have retired.”