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The Duchess’ Second Chance

Page 54

by Hazel Linwood

“None of that is the truth,” he said. “I never pitied you, Amanda.”

“Then why wouldn’t you take the dowry?”

“I didn’t need the dowry. I have more than enough money. And to be honest, your father seemed as if he needed it more than I did. Maybe I shouldn’t have prioritized that, but the man hasn’t stopped asking me for money since the day we met. It seemed as though it would only make things worse if I took money from him. Leaving him the dowry was the best way to cut ties and allow the two of us to begin our life. At least, that was what I thought, but he does seem determined to go on bothering me.”

Amanda frowned, considering that. It did make sense. In fact, now that he said it, it made more sense than what she had been thinking. Of course, he would want to put an end to her father’s greedy pursuit of money, and leaving him the dowry made sense as a thing that might satisfy him. Sampson couldn’t have known that Amanda’s father had never been happy with anything in his life.

“So, you didn’t pity me,” she said.

“No,” he confirmed. “Pity was never what I felt with regard to you, Amanda.”

“Then tell me why? Why did you marry me?”

“I’ve told you…”

“No. Don’t repeat the same story again, because I know it isn’t true. You have to give me some credit, Sampson. That tale you spun about George…I’ve known for a while that it didn’t add up, and you’re not going to convince me that it does. Just tell me the truth.”

His face darkened. “Has it occurred to you that I don’t want to talk about what really happened?”

She didn’t soften. “Well, you have to. You’ve asked me to be your wife, and I agreed to do it, and I’ve never asked you for much. A safe home for me and for Rose. That’s all. But now I’m telling you that being married to me is going to require some degree of honesty. If you really have respect for me, you’ll give me that. You may not want to discuss these things, but it’s my life too, and I have a right to know.”

She waited.

He sighed. “Fine,” he said.

Amanda sat up a little straighter, her heart pounding.

“I did know George,” Sampson said. “We were good friends. That much is true. He became like a brother to me. And to say such a thing during wartime…it’s different than when I say it about a friend here at home. It’s stronger. We were all each other had during those days.”

Amanda nodded slowly, not wanting to interrupt now that he had finally begun to talk.

“And he did tell me about you,” Sampson went on. “You’re right to surmise that he wasn’t…as fixed on the topic as I led you to believe. But he spoke fondly of you. When the men talked about their wives, he said that his was young and pretty and kind, and though he hadn’t gotten to know you well yet, he spoke eagerly of doing so when he returned home. He did care for you.”

For the first time, Amanda found she could fully believe the things Sampson was saying when he spoke about George. It made her feel warm inside to think of him talking fondly about her. Their marriage was a thing that had never reached its potential, and she would always wonder about it, but to know that he’d been so positive about things took a little piece of that wondering away.

“But there’s something more,” she said. “Something you haven’t said. Something that made you want to seek me out and marry me. Because he didn’t ask you to do that, did he?”

“No,” Sampson said quietly. “He didn’t ask me to.”

Amanda waited quietly, her heart pounding. She was finally about to get her answer.

Sampson took a deep breath. “We were ambushed one evening,” he said. “We were completely unprepared, and many men were lost. And I nearly died too.” He closed his eyes. “I was staring down the barrel of an enemy gun. I couldn’t have done a thing about it. I was just waiting for the shot. And then…George pushed me aside.”

Amanda gasped. “He saved you?”

“At the cost of his own life.” Bitterness crept into Sampson’s voice. “The bullet hit him instead of me. He died that day so that I would live. I’d have done the same for him, but even so…I’ve never been able to forgive myself for that.”

He looked away.

His jaw was tight, his hands fisted at his sides, and Amanda felt ill. She reached across the carriage and carefully rested a hand on his arm.

He looked over at her.

“It isn’t your fault,” she told him quietly. “You didn’t pull that trigger. You’re not the reason he was killed. I understand that it must feel like your responsibility, but you aren’t to blame for it. I hope you know that.”

“If it hadn’t been for me, he would have come back home,” Sampson said. “He would have survived that ambush. He’d be the one sitting here with you now, building the life I know you both wanted. That was the way it was supposed to be, and the only reason it didn’t happen was that he met me and that changed everything.”

“You don’t know any of that,” Amanda said. “That’s a story you’re telling yourself. But even if he’d have survived that day, that ambush, the war wasn’t over in that moment. Something else might have happened. People die at war. That’s part of it. It’s dreadful, and I mourn that George is gone. But, of course, it isn’t your fault. You aren’t the one who ended his life.”