It was as if Sam was being given a second chance at a sister through Blake. But again, that year time bomb on their relationship loomed. “I suppose,” Samantha said.
“I have tea prepared in the red room, Blake. Why don’t we sit in there so we can hear all about your whirlwind courtship and marriage?”
Blake managed to slide beside Samantha and take her arm. The heat of him by her side added some comfort to her wandering thoughts. He leaned next to her ear and whispered, “How are you doing?”
Samantha noticed Blake’s cousin Howard watching them, his eyes narrow, his lips pulled down. She lifted Blake’s hand and kissed his knuckles. The light in her husband’s face forced some of the foreboding of their future away. “Fine,” she mouthed the word and Blake squeezed her hand.
Linda ushered them into the red room. Vaulted ceilings sat atop red, grey, and white wallpapered walls. The print was actually subtle despite the color. Floral paintings and silk drapes gave the room a feminine feel. A large bouquet of fresh flowers sat on a mantel above a stone fireplace.
On the coffee table sat a spread of sweet cakes and finger sandwiches, which the men reached for before taking the tea.
“Have you been to Europe before?” Linda asked as she poured dark tea into tiny cups.
“When I was in high school.”
“Then you know about tea time,” Gwen said.
“It’s just an excuse to snack midday,” Blake told her.
Gwen waved her brother off. “Don’t listen to him. He’s allergic to anything remotely English. I don’t think any of us were surprised to hear he’d taken an American wife.”
“Gwen!” Linda scolded.
“It’s true.”
Samantha chuckled.
“It isn’t my fault the women in Europe didn’t hold my interest,” Blake defended himself.
Howard stopped eating to ask, “So you and Samantha have known each other for a long time?”
Samantha and Blake had agreed that he would be the one to field the questions about their relationship. That way neither of them could stumble over the other.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“What would you say?” Mary, Blake’s aunt asked.
“We met last month.”
“Last month?” Gwen sounded shocked. “How can you marry someone you hardly know?”
Blake put his tea down and reached for Samantha’s hand. “I would have married Samantha on the first day had she said yes. There are some things in life you just know are the right thing to do.”
Paul, Blake’s uncle, sat forward in his chair. “The right thing, you say. Is there something you’re not telling us?”
Blake’s jaw tightened. “What are you asking?”
The women fell silent, their eyes on Samantha.
“Is she pregnant?”
Blake stiffened. “She, has a name, and I insist you use it instead of acting like Samantha isn’t in the room.” The deadly delivery of Blake’s words chilled her. This was a side of him she didn’t see often, and would rather not be on the receiving end of.
A smug smile crossed Paul’s face, but before he could say anything else, Samantha said, “I’m not pregnant.”
Even though the women in the room had said nothing, there was a collective sigh between them with the announcement.
“Then you married because of the will,” this came from the youngest cousin, Adam, who sat beside Howard, who said nothing.
Blake was on his feet, fists clenched.
Samantha scrambled to set her tea aside and grasped onto Blake’s hand. “Darling, we knew they’d question our motives.” Then, as if she was born to lying, she said, “How could they possibly know the energy that passed between us the first day we met, or the desire to be together and married without a long courtship?”
Linda finally spoke up, putting some ease in the room. “You make it sound so romantic, Samantha.”
Sam pulled Blake back into his chair and latched onto his hand to keep him from wringing the necks of the men in the room. “I’m sure you don’t want all the details, but your son is very romantic.”
“I want the details,” Gwen bit her lip as she spoke.
Blake’s eyes narrowed at his sister.
Samantha’s gaze skirted toward Howard. The man watched the entire scene without saying a word. His silence told her he didn’t approve. His cold stare reached toward Blake and Samantha couldn’t help but wonder how far Howard would go to get his hands on Blake’s inheritance.
****
The older Parker, of Parker and Parker sat opposite Blake in his office to discuss a few particulars of his father’s last will and testament. Blake remembered hearing his father insist, from the grave, that he marry in order to inherit the bulk of his wealth, but he had missed some of the details. Actually, Blake had cut the lawyer off at the time. Blake had just turned thirty when his father died; thirty-six seemed a long way off.
Wearing a suit, tie, and a stoic expression, Mark Parker opened his briefcase and removed a stack of papers two inches thick. “I see you wasted little time securing a wife,” the man said.
The last meeting between the two of them had been only two months ago. Mark reminded Blake of the deadline Edmund mapped out, but did so only because he was obligated to. Had Blake missed the deadline, Parker and Parker would stand to gain twenty-five percent of the estate, his sister and mother would be given a small stipend, but not enough for their lifestyle, and the rest would go to Howard and a few charities.