Lowering her head, she swallowed hard. ‘Do you blame yourself?’
Samuel rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Yes. No. I do not know. Wellington himself asked me to bring you with me and I could have told him no, but I did not.’
Frederica winced. ‘Then you too wish that I was not here?’
His gaze met hers and it pierced into her very soul. ‘No, I thought it was a good plan.’
Somehow his words made her feel worse. As if her ribs were growing tighter, making it impossible to breathe. She turned her head, breaking eye contact with him.
‘And foolishly,’ he continued, ‘I wished to spend more time with you and I did not seriously consider the danger I was putting you in.’
Her chin jerked back up.
‘You wanted to spend time with me?’ She said it slowly, as if each word was a question.
‘Well, we are about to be married.’
She hunched her shoulders and said in a small voice, ‘A marriage that you do not want.’
Samuel’s jaw was set in a tight line. ‘Rather, a marriage that I did not choose.’
Frederica did not know what to think or how to feel. She had loved and hated Samuel for as long as she could remember. He infuriated her like no one else could. He also brought out her very worst side. The one that never failed to get her into trouble. But she’d still longed for his attention. His smiles.
‘Perhaps you are hoping that I will be killed and then I will never be your wife.’ She knew as soon as the words left her lips that they were petty and untrue. But she wanted to hurt him as he had pained her with his indifference. ‘Then you can keep my mother’s money and live happily ever after.’
With a perfect wife of his own choosing. Who was pretty and not petty or impertinent. Or wicked. Who followed the rules and allowed the man to lead while dancing.
Samuel clenched his fist and brought it to his face. ‘It is far more likely that I will die in the following weeks.’
‘You survived the Peninsular War,’ she said in a small, gruff voice.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘It only takes one stray bullet and thenyouwill not have to marry me.’
She tried to swallow, but there was a lump in her throat. Standing up, she surprised Samuel by sitting on his lap and putting her arms around his neck. ‘Promise me that you will be very careful?’
His arms wrapped around her waist. His face close to hers. ‘Are you saying that you wish to marryme?’
Leaning forward, Frederica kissed his nose. ‘I wish to be a duchess. You happen to be a delightful addition to the title.’
‘A side benefit?’
Kissing his cheek and neck, she murmured her agreement. She loved how his skin tasted. The friction of brushing her lips over the stubble of his cheeks. But nothing could compare with his mouth upon hers and his tongue tangling with hers for dominance. Neither of them would concede without a fight in this sensual war. Taking a quick breath before diving back in with another lip-bruising kiss, Frederica thought that perhaps she was winning this battle. Her fingers were in his hair, their bodies close together, and she knew in this moment that she could not bear to lose him. That any hate she felt for him in the past was overwhelmed by love. Samuel was her opposite. Her antagonist. But she would have chosen no other man to stand at her side. He was her equal. Her everything.
Samuel nipped at both her upper and lower lips. The sting of his bites gave both pain and pleasure.
Peters entered the room to take the tea tray and she jumped off Samuel’s lap. Turning away from both men, she attempted to straighten her dress and her hair. Her neck and face hotter than the noonday sun.
She heard Samuel thank the waiter and the door close before she spun to face him.
Samuel’s lips were red and a little swollen from her kisses. ‘Clearly, that servant doesn’t know the meaning of aprivateparlour.’
A giggle escaped her lips.
He took a step closer to her. ‘And we were so comfortably situated too.’
She held out her hands to him and Samuel’s larger ones encompassed hers. ‘I still need your promise that you will be careful.’
Samuel brought her right hand to his lips and kissed it, then lifted the other and repeated the action. ‘I will be as careful as a cat.’