Samuel.

The three months since George's murder had moved slowly. Calais was beautiful, its white cliffs similar to England's, but Samuel had never been a fan of the beach. Now he and Omar stood in front of his uncle's house and wondered how he was going to be received. It had been three years since he had gone missing. Surely, both his uncles, Leopold and Rupert, and his cousins, Mathew and James, thought he was dead.

Omar put his hand on Samuel's shoulder. "Perhaps you should have worn English clothes."

"Perhaps." Samuel pulled the cowl of his turban away from his face, but left the hood of his burnoose on his head. He hadn't wanted anyone to recognise him until he'd presented himself to his family.

"I'll do the knocking." Omar chuckled and lifted the brass ring attached to a lion's head. "I can see you are nervous."

The door was opened by a short thin balding butler with a sour look on his face. He looked Omar up and down, and then glanced at Samuel. "We don't accept foreign peddlers here." As he went to close the door Omar put his hand on it.

"We are not peddlers." Omar directed his palm toward Samuel. "My master wishes an audience with your master, The Earl Leopold Denyer."

"State your business." Arthur Hawkesbury had been with the earl for twenty-five years and did not like unexpected visitors, let alone foreign ones.

"It is a private matter, and one of great importance, sir." Omar bowed. "If you would please inform him that we are here."

"And who might you be exactly?" Hawkesbury pulled his shoulders back to appear taller and lifted his nose in a snub.

Samuel looked up from under his hood. Hawkesbury had always been a snob. Samuel smirked. Snob or not, it was so good to see him.

"My name is Omar Jannat. This is Mlik Sámi. We are from Morocco and have important news for the earl." Again, Omar bowed.

"Yes. You've said, but what is important to you, will likely, not be of importance to the earl. He is a very busy man." With that Hawkesbury closed the door.

"If this doesn't work, Samuel. Then what?"

"Then I will have to dress as an Englishman and turn up in full view and shock everyone. Servants and all." Samuel smirked. "Hawkesbury's that old he'll probably have a heart seizure."

The door opened once more and a brisk, "Come," was spat at them.

The look of distain on Hawkesbury's face almost made Samuel laugh. He hung his head as he made his way inside, and followed the butler to the sitting room. "Wait here. His Lordship will not be long."

Omar looked around the room. It was the first time he had been inside a London Manor. "Do we sit? What is the etiquette in a house like this?"

"You may sit if you wish." Samuel stood by the window with his hands behind his back looking out onto the street. A carriage rumbled by. He didn't hear the door open, only the sound of his uncle's voice.

"What is this all about?"

"My Lord Denyer." Omar said as Samuel turned with his head lowered. "I would beg you to please sit."

Leopold Denyer looked Omar up and down, and then focused on the taller man. His head was hung, the hood of his cloak covering his face. Who the hell did they think they were? "I will not be told to sit in my own home by the likes of you."

Omar tried again. "It would be for the best..."

"Omar." Samuel held up his hand and stopped his words. "Thank you, my friend," he said in Arabic. "He will not listen." Samuel put both hands on the edge of his hood and pulled it back from his face. "Hello, Uncle Leo."

Leopold Denyer's eyes opened wide in shock. He staggered backwards and landed on the settee. "Samuel," he gasped. "Samuel, my boy. Is it really you?"

Samuel knelt before him and pulled the turban from his head. Loose hair that had escaped the knot framed his face. "Yes, Uncle, it is."

Tears rolled down Leopold's face. He grabbed Samuel in a tight hug and didn't register his nephew tensing. "We thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead." He took a hold of Samuel's face and stared at him. A concerned look crept across Leopold's face. "Where have you been? What has happened to you?" As he said this, he ran his thumb along the scar on Samuel's cheek. "We thought you had been murdered, robbed, and thrown into the Thames. Oh, Samuel." Again, Leopold threw his arms around his nephew, and then sat up abruptly.

"Hawkesbury. Tea." Leopold looked over at his stunned butler. "Tell cook tea and sandwiches, cakes whatever she has." The earl burst into laughter as he wiped his eyes. "This calls for a celebration. Come back as soon as you've spoken to cook. I need to send word to Mathew and James and of course your uncle Rupert." Leopold jumped up. "Wait, Hawkesbury." He scrawled a note. "James is here in London. Mathew and he have gone to The Lansbury. I have asked them to come at once." He handed the butler the letter. "Get one of the footmen to deliver it straight away.

*

Hawkesbury placed the tea tray on the occasional table. He set up the cups and looked over at Samuel. "Your Grace, how do you have your tea nowadays?"

The words went over Samuel's head. He couldn't help but note there were only two cups when there were three people. Perhaps his uncle didn't drink tea anymore.

"Samuel." Leopold stood up and touched his nephew on the arm. "Hawkesbury has asked how you drink your tea."

"There are only two cups."

Confused, Leopold turned to look at the tea tray.

"I thought His Grace's servant would be more comfortable taking tea in the kitchen with the staff, My Lord." As soon as Hawkesbury said the words, he knew he was in trouble.

"Omar. Is not! My servant! Please bring another cup!"

"Samuel?" Leopold had no idea what had just happened. His nephews face filled with rage.

"My Lord." Omar stepped forward and touched Leopold lightly on the back. "If I may." The earl stepped back so Omar could take his place. "Sámi," he spoke in Arabic. "What's going on?"

"I won't have them disrespect you. Without you I am no one." Samuel couldn't control the drum of anger that had engulfed him.

"This is all new to them, Sámi. You must let this rest. You must begin your life as you left it." Omar put his hand on Samuel's shoulder to try and ease the tension in younger man's body.

"I cannot do that, Omar. As you well know. I am a different man to the one I left behind."

"This is true, but your family expects you to be the same. You must try."

Samuel tilted his head. "Thank you, my friend."

Leopold watched the two men speak in the strange language. Samuel was not the same. Whatever had happened to him over the past three years, had scarred more than just his face. He hadn't acknowledged his title at all. Leopold wondered if Samuel knew his brother was dead and that he was now His Grace, The Duke of Irvine, who would be in control of the House of Irvine and everything that came with it. George Somersby had tried very hard to take over complete control of the finances. Frederick's will had only left him in control of investments made in the name of the Irvine House. The rest of the financial responsibility remained in Leopold's control, in Samuel's absence. The family had all presumed Samuel was dead. Frederick's will made it clear he had never truly believed it.

"I'm sorry, Uncle. I forget myself. Please forgive me."

"Samuel. There is nothing to forgive." Leo hugged his nephew again. This time he felt Sam tense. The boy had been damaged somehow. He vowed to help him come back to them fully. He turned to Hawkesbury. "Please bring more china." Leopold indicated one of the chairs. "Sit, Omar. Please. Tell me what has happened over the last three years."

Well, that was a wee bit tense. Hawksbury is lucky to be alive, me thinks ;)

Photo taken from Etsy.