‘Freddie, do not bother apologising,’ Samuel said sardonically. ‘I should not wish for our relationship to begin with a lie.’
She let out a crow of laughter and gave him a beguiling grin. ‘You are not as stupid as you used to be, and no one calls me Freddie any more.’
‘And you are not as skinny as you used to be,’ he retorted.
She laughed again and more colour came into her cheeks. She was an attractive woman with curves even courtesans would be jealous of. ‘I suppose I am not. But then, neither are you. You seem twice as broad as before.’
‘Do you wish to marry me?’ he asked bluntly, hoping that by some miracle she would be the one to release him from this unwanted obligation.
‘No,’ she said honestly, raising her eyebrows. ‘Do you wish to marry me?’
No, but I wouldn’t mind kissing you.
Where had that thought come from? He pulled at his collar, feeling rather hot and betrayed by his own body.
‘Heavens no! I do not even know you.’
And I’ve never liked you.
Frederica laughed loudly at this and his lips twitched. Earlier in the day, he would have thought that there was nothing humorous in his situation. But he’d forgotten that Frederica could be funny; unfortunately, in the past, he’d been the butt of most of her jokes.
She sobered first, clearing her throat. ‘Perhaps we could become better acquainted now that we are no longer children? I long for adventure and purpose. And no doubt you have had many adventures and political intrigues whilst on the Continent.’
Samuel stiffened. He hated how the aristocracy glamourized war with their fancy uniforms and formal parades. There was nothing adventurous or exciting about a battle. It was loud. There was so much blood, the wounded, and the burying of your friends. ‘Those stories are not fit for a woman’s ears.’
Her lips tightened into a straight line. ‘Quite a set-down.’
He could not help but smirk back at her as he watched Frederica struggle within herself to be civil. As a child, she would not have even tried. She would have yelled at him, hurled an object, or got her revenge when he least expected it. Usually with a dead rodent or a live snake whilst he was sleeping. Still, he had loved the summers he’d spent at Hampford Castle with her older brothers, avoiding Frederica whenever possible. Her brother Charles had been his best friend and closest companion. He was also the first person he’d seen buried. After his death, Samuel had resented how Frederica had tried to take her brother’s place as his friend. She was a poor substitute for Charles, who had been a good listener, clever, and kind.
Little had Samuel known then how many friends he would lose in the war. How many pieces of himself he would bury with them.
After a few moments she said in a lighter tone, ‘Shall I receive many set-downs as your wife?’
‘I haven’t asked you to be my wife,’ he pointed out.
Frederica lifted her eyebrows in an arched look and talked with her hands. ‘No, you have not. And I have not said yes, but somehow, I believe we will both find ourselves arrayed in finery and in front of the Archbishop of Canterbury before too long.’
‘Dreadful thought.’
‘I know. It quite gives me the dismals.’
She was so quick-witted. Samuel was smirking at her, as if they were friends instead of old acquaintances who shared a keen dislike of each other. But there was little choice but to make her his wife, so he’d have to make the best of it.
He got out of his chair and kneeled before her. ‘I have found in the army, that if something has to be done, it might as well be done at once: Lady Frederica, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’
Frederica covered her mouth with her hands and fell into a fit of chuckles.
He caught his breath in surprise, his heartbeat quickened in annoyance. Shaking his head, Samuel asked, ‘Why can you never be serious?’
She laughed harder and tears began to form in her lovely hazel eyes. Unexpectedly, her mirth warmed his heart and Samuel struggled to keep his own mouth from forming a smile. Maybe he needed a little lightness in his life.
It was a ridiculous situation that they had found themselves in. Engineered by their meddlesome mothers and his dead father’s extravagance.
He handed her his handkerchief embroidered with his initials and the Pelford crest and said in the same exaggerated formality, ‘Dearest Lady Frederica, please accept this small token of my high esteem.’
Frederica snorted and giggled harder. Eventually, she stopped laughing and took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, breathing in and out slowly. Her gaze met his and it felt like she was seeing through his ragged soul. He was not sure that he wanted her to see the darkness that raged inside of him now. The terrible secrets that he held in his heart. The burdens he carried.
Taking her hand in both of his, he said, ‘Am I to receive an answer, or shall I spend the afternoon kneeling on the floor?’