Her Favorite Duke
Page 13
She smiled and all but dragged him to the settee. She practically shoved him into place and took the seat at his side. She leaned in to pour tea, sweetening his just as he liked it before she handed it over and prepared her own cup.
“What do you want to talk about?” he asked, his tone strained.
She could see he feared her broaching the topic of their engagement or their wedding or, God forbid, their marriage. A part of her wanted to talk about all three of those topics.
But today was about their friendship, so she smiled as if none of the hard things existed and said, “Did you see Sir William Hargrave in the garden yesterday?”
Simon shook his head. “I don’t think so. What was he doing?”
“Well, you know his eyesight is failing, and I’ve been told in good authority that he has spectacles but refuses to wear them. He’s vain as a peacock.”
Simon had begun to smile. “On good authority, eh?”
“Very good, but I shall not reveal my sources,” she said with a laugh, her heart feeling light as they once again fell back into the kind of playful, easy friendship they’d shared for so many years.
“Protect the sources, it’s of utmost importance, I agree,” Simon said, and sipped his tea. “So we have a half-blind Sir William in your garden, I assume without his glasses.”
She nodded. “Yes, and it was getting late in the afternoon so the shadows were beginning to draw out over the shrubbery and the statues that are placed between them.”
“Yes?” he encouraged, drawing out the word.
“I overheard talking as I was picking some fresh flowers for the arrangement in the foyer and I went toward the sound only to find Sir William having a long discussion…” She took a dramatic pause. “…with Venus.”
Simon barked out a laugh. “He was talking to James’s half-naked statue of Venus? The one you used to drape cloaks around and put hats on?”
“To be fair, I was hardly more than a child when I dressed her up,” Meg said with a laugh of her own. “I’m surprised you recall that at all.”
His face got a bit more serious. “I recall all of it,” he said softly.
Her heart beat a little faster at his words, at the increased intensity of his gaze when he said them, but forced herself to remain light.
“Well, Sir William would have likely enjoyed Miss Venus in all her finery, for he was having a full conversation with her. He hardly drew breath,” she said with another giggle. “I considered stopping him and explaining, but he was having a lovely time. And I didn’t want to embarrass him.”
Chuckles shook Simon’s frame and he tilted his head back. She stared at him, enthralled by seeing the Simon she’d always known and loved, right here with her again.
“Of course you’re too kind of correct him. Poor man, I wonder what he thought when his lady friend didn’t speak or accompany him back inside.”
She shrugged. “That she was a good listener? Or playing hard to get? Either way, I assume they will be wed before the year is out.”
The last sentence stopped Simon’s laughter short and seriousness entered his face again. Meg frowned. Apparently her words about a wedding reminded Simon of their own rapidly approaching one.
“I suppose you and I have no place to laugh about anyone else’s behavior,” he said slowly. “Not after what we did.”
She pursed her lips, loath to leave behind the comfort she had once again found in this man’s company. In fact, she refused to do so.
She set her teacup down and met his eyes, arching her brow in challenge. “Are you speaking of the scandal created by Lady Margaret and the handsome Duke of Crestwood?”
Simon’s brow wrinkled and he stared at her. “What are you doing?”
“Of course, is it so unforeseen that they might find themselves in this predicament?” She leaned in conspiratorially. “After all, they have been close for years.”
His frown deepened as understanding dawned. “Margaret—”
“Come, don’t be coy, Simon,” she said. “You always have a unique take on all the day’s gossip. What is it on this situation?”
He cleared his throat, and for a moment she thought he might just get up and run like he had been running for days. But then he sighed. “I think some would say that the duke is a cad and should have been called out by Lady Margaret’s former fiancé or her brother. Men have perished in duels for far less than what he did.”
Panic gripped Meg at even the thought of such a thing. That Simon would have been willing to fight, to die, over the slights he had caused Graham and her brother. And that it was only the decency of those two men that had kept a calling out from happening.
She forced herself to take a few calming breaths before she said, “I suppose some would also say that Lady Margaret should have been sequestered to the countryside, shunned forever by good Society and even her own family.”
Simon’s eyebrows lifted. “Some would say she made that very suggestion, herself.”
She smiled, though the memory of that awful day in James’s office did not make her happy in the least. “That may be true. But I think all those people would be wrong, regardless.”
“Oh?” he said. “Then what do you think?”
She scooted a bit closer, letting their knees brush against each other. Even that benign swish of fabric on fabric made her ultra-aware of her desire for so much more.
“I think,” she whispered, lifting a trembling hand to brush it over his smooth cheek. “That Margaret and the duke are simply human. That people make mistakes, especially when they’re desperate.”
His face flashed with a moment of sadness. “You think it a mistake?”
“The way it was done, perhaps.” She leaned in, letting her breasts rub his arm, tilting his chin down toward her. Their lips nearly touched when she added, “But I’m not sorry, Simon. I wish you weren’t either.”
He stared down at her, tension still coursing through his body. But then he cupped her chin and brought his lips to hers. The passion between them pulsed there as he tangled his tongue with hers, as he pulled her closer, almost into his lap. But there was something else in the kiss. Something deeper than mere desire. Something she felt and wanted to hold on to with both hands.
His mouth moved over hers, gentle at first, but with increasing passion as she wound her arms around his neck. He tilted his head, driving his tongue between her lips as the world around them faded and all that was left was powerful physical sensation and driving lust.
Meg was almost swept away by it. She could feel Simon close to the same when there was a soft sound from the doorway to the parlor.
They jerked apart, both turning to find Emma standing in the entryway. Her cheeks were flamed and she was staring up at the ceiling as if there were something interesting to be found there as she said, “Oh, hello, you two. I was wondering where you were.”
Simon lunged to his feet, backing away from Meg as he shook his head. Once more the wall he had been putting between them was slammed down and he gave her a formal bow before he said, “Excuse me, ladies. I think I should…go.”
The last word was strangled, and without further explanation he slipped past Emma and disappeared from view.
Meg got to her feet slowly and walked over to the window. For a long while she stared out, and eventually she watched as Simon strode from the house and walked out over the rolling hills of the estate, away from the gate and down toward the woods.
She couldn’t help but make a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. Emma said nothing through it all, but at last Meg heard her close the parlor door. She turned and found her friend leaning back against the barrier, watching her intently.
“You have no one else to talk to about this,” Emma said. “I know that’s isolating when things are so…complicated. Will you tell me what is going on?”
Meg bent her head. “I’ve been reticent to discuss the situation with you because of your marr
iage to my brother. I know that you two don’t keep secrets.”
“You fear I’ll run to him, telling him anything I hear?” Emma asked.
“Wouldn’t you have to?”
“Well, I don’t recall that promise in the vows we made when we wed,” Emma said with a laugh. “I admit that we are honest with each other. We went through too much individually and together to be less than that. But honesty doesn’t require that I tell him every detail of every conversation I have. And I think James would want you to have a friend in this difficult place you find yourself. Only if I felt you were endangering yourself would I feel it was necessary to discuss our private exchanges with your brother.”
Emma’s words were comforting and Meg adored her so much. The idea of sharing the truth with a friend was tempting indeed.
Still, she was cautious as she said, “If it won’t put you in a difficult position.”
Emma moved forward and took her hand. “You and I are friends. I want to help. Talk to me.”
“Simon…” she began, and then it was like a dam burst and all her words spilled out, rushed together. “Oh God, Emma, he hates himself for what he did to Graham. What he did to James. What he did to all his brothers in their club. I know people see him as somewhat shallow, I think because he’s so quick to laugh or tease, but that isn’t true.”
“No, all those who truly know the man recognize his depth,” Emma said. “He feels deeply.”
Tears stung Meg’s eyes as she nodded. “He does. And right now he is bent on self-punishment. On keeping himself from happiness because he feels he doesn’t deserve it. I have no idea where that will lead us.”
Emma nodded slowly. “James has said something similar. That Simon’s personality is to punish himself for every wrong. But we know where this leads, Meg.”
“Where?” Meg asked, and she was terrified of the answer.
“A wedding,” Emma said with a small smile. “It’s all leading to a wedding, isn’t it? Let it lead there and see if that changes the situation.”
Meg swallowed hard. “But what if it doesn’t?”
“Then you’ll deal with that when that comes.” Emma squeezed her hand gently. “You can do it, I know you can. Things weren’t easy for James and me, either. You know that. But we’re here now. Happy. Strong in our knowledge that we love each other and that we will work to make our love stronger every day. It takes work and dedication and understanding, but it’s worth it. And I know you’ll commit yourself to the same path.”
“But will he?” Meg asked.
Emma blushed again. “He certainly seems to have a passion for you, if what I walked in on is any indication.”
Meg shook her head as memory after memory bombarded her, from the passionate kiss in the cottage on the night that had started all this to the heat of his touch the night before when he’d claimed her pleasure over and over.
“Passion,” she said with a shiver. “Oh yes, there is that. He allows that if nothing else and it’s the only hope I cling to, the only way to make him surrender a bit of himself to me.”
“Am I to assume you two have…” Emma waved her hand to indicate the obvious.
Meg smiled despite the difficult topic. Regardless of the fact that her friend’s passion for her own husband was obvious as anything, Emma was not comfortable saying certain things out loud. Even in private between friends.
Meg hesitated. “We truly didn’t do anything that night in the cottage when everything was blown apart, Emma. He kissed me once, but it went no further.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Emma said. “I never believed otherwise. I’m not sure James or even Graham did, either. But obviously things have now changed.”
“Simon and I have circled each other for years,” Meg whispered. “It was all friendship and light, but beneath the surface we both knew what we didn’t admit. That there were deeper feelings and longings that could never be pursued.”
“But now they can,” Emma said.
Meg nodded. “At least the longings. Simon refuses to address the feelings. But the moment we were engaged, he swept in and all that passion, all that desire, it overflowed.”
“And how do you l-like it?” Emma stammered.
“It is wonderful,” Meg admitted with a sigh. “So different than some describe it. There is no bearing or suffering through it. I am an equal partner in my pleasure and his. And there is so much pleasure.”
Emma smiled, and the knowing light in her eyes let Meg know she understood completely. “I’m glad of it. You deserve that kind of connection. And it is a good sign. If he allows that passion, it means he may one day allow the rest.”
“That is my hope, too. I know I cannot keep the desires of my mind and the needs of my body separate. I can only hope it’s the same for him. Perhaps someday I can help him realize that keeping a wall between us won’t change what we did. It will only keep us from ever being happy.”
Emma slipped an arm around Meg’s waist, and they looked out the window together, silent as they both pondered the secrets that had been shared between them. Meg did feel better having told someone the difficulties in her heart.
But nothing had been resolved. And she knew she still had a mighty fight ahead of her if she wanted her future to be as settled and happy as Emma and James’s had become.
Chapter Fourteen
Simon caught his breath as Meg stepped from the house and took her place beside him on the grand staircase that led from the drive. She was exquisite in a dark green gown that was cut not scandalously low, but low enough for his imagination to take flight.
Of course he’d seen her in the past five days. They’d shared meals and passed in halls and engaged in casual conversation with her family. But they had not been alone together since their encounter in the parlor the morning the other guests departed. Nor had he been afforded the chance to go to her room or have her join him at night.
He supposed he could pretend it was because both of them were very busy with preparations for the wedding that now loomed up the next day. He and James had been wrangling the special license and preparing other formal documents and settlements. He knew Meg and Emma had also been involved in a flurry of activity, if the constantly scurrying servants and the never-ending stream of seamstresses traipsing in and out of the house with bolts of fabric had been any indication.
But he had a sneaking suspicion none of that was why he hadn’t had a moment alone with Meg. Emma had seen the passionate exchange between them in the parlor. He had to believe that all this activity was arranged in part to keep them from surrendering to desire again before their official vows were taken.
So he ached for her as she took her place beside him. He ached to touch her. To kiss her. To feel her body against his. Oh, he wanted to take her, of course he did, but more than that, he missed her company. That quiet connection that had always been so easy between them but now felt so impossible and out of reach.
In that moment of realization, she looked up at him with a faint smile. “Simon.”
“You are beautiful,” he said softly.
Her lips parted in surprise at the compliment, and guilt stabbed him. It seemed there was no winning in his current situation. Either he maintained a distance in penance for his bad acts and hurt Meg, or he moved in close and took what he wanted without regard for all he’d destroyed.
He frowned and faced forward again, watching as a carriage thundered through the gate and came up the long drive and into the circle before them. The seal on the carriage door was his own, the Crestwood name represented by a flourished C surrounded by carved rearing horses and golden filigree, and his throat closed as a footman raced to open the door and help down the arrival.
His mother stepped from the carriage in a burst of perfume and disdain. She looked up the stairs, her gaze flitting over the others and settling at last on Simon. Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned, and he felt her loathing as sharply as he ever had.
At last she reached him and Meg. Meg lifted her chin as the Duchess of Crestwood glared at them. “And here you two are,” was all she said.
“Welcome, Your Grace,” Meg said, holding out a hand that his mother ignored.
Simon stiffened, frustrated that her disregard for him would clearly stretch out to his future bride, as well.
“Mother,” he said.
She sniffed once more and turned to the others. “I am parched from that awful drive. May we retire to a parlor for some tea?”
“Of course,” Emma said, motioning to Grimble as she and James led the way into the house. “Please, follow us.”
The Duchess of Crestwood sharply turned her back on her son and moved to walk with the dowager, leaving Meg and Simon alone on the stairs. He let out a great sigh before he held out an elbow for Meg.
She remained facing him instead of taking it, her face lined with understanding and empathy. Of course she had known his mother a great many years. She knew some of the history that caused the strife that still existed between them.
“She hasn’t forgiven you?” she asked softly.
He tensed and turned his face, not looking at her as he said, “No.”
She reached up, cupping his cheek to turn his gaze back to her. Slowly, she lifted to her tiptoes and brushed her lips across his. Every other kiss between them had been passionate, driving, possessive, desperate. This was something else. As she pulled back with a shy smile, his heart swelled with all the things he knew he shouldn’t feel.
She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and tugged him forward. “Come, we face her together.”
He did as she commanded, allowing her to lead him into the house and down the hall to the parlor where the others had gone. He said nothing, but he wondered at her gentle strength, her solidarity with him in that moment. He’d had no siblings growing up. He’d felt like he had no family at all until he met James and Graham and they’d started their club with all the rest. That was part of why his betrayal was so bloody awful.