Regency Rakes 02 - Rescued By A Viscount

by Wendy Vella

  Simon wasn’t quite so sure that Mathew Belmont’s actions were unreasonable, in fact, he thought the man was reacting to what he believed was a threat to his family, by protecting his sister from harm, and ensuring his mother’s heart was not broken again. Simon could not say his reactions would have been any different, were he in the man’s shoes.

  “I’m sure given time, Mathew-”

  “There is no time, Lord Kelkirk. As I have explained, we must arrive at the port of Liverpool three days hence at the latest.” Her hands fluttered and then settled on her lap as she spoke. “If you have no wish to help me now you know, then drop me where the stage passes through, and I shall secure a ticket.”

  He looked at her for several seconds. “I will ignore that ridiculous statement and instead tell you to calm down, Claire, as we are simply talking through this situation, and you are distressed enough already.”

  Normally, she would have told him exactly what she thought of his words, demanded he retract those ridiculous statements, yet she did not. Instead, she lowered her eyes on a tired sigh. “I must go, Simon, or I shall live my life wondering if I have abandoned my brother’s child.”

  “We will go to Liverpool, Claire, but right at this moment, you look as if you need some sleep. Close your eyes. We have many hours of travel ahead of us, and you will need your strength for what is about to come, I’m sure.”

  “If only I could.”

  “If only you could what? Sleep?” Simon frowned at her words.

  “We are to spend nights on the road, my lord. How will we explain my lack of companion?” She ignored his question in favor of asking her own.

  “Now you are worried about propriety?”

  “If I was on my own, I would simply say I was a companion traveling to my next position. I am not without wits, after all, and am sure I could have fooled anyone I met.”

  His eyes ran over her briefly. “You look like no governess I have ever met.”

  “And of course you are acquainted with a vast amount, seeing as you have children, my lord.”

  Simon smiled at her tart return. “As to your question, tonight we will spend at a small cottage a friend of mine owns. I know where the key is and there will be supplies on hand. We will worry about the next stop when it is before us.”

  All fight left her as he spoke. “I am putting you to a great deal of trouble, Lord Kelkirk, when in truth, I do not deserve to do so. I also know that my reputation will be in tatters, should anyone find out about this journey, yet that will not stop me from undertaking it, nor are you in any way responsible, should I be found out.”

  “A very pretty speech, Miss Belmont, and thank you for caring about my pristine reputation. However I’m a grown man, and the choices I make are mine alone.”

  “Please, Lord Kelkirk, I would not–”

  “I think we can dispense with the Lord Kelkirk, and you can call me Simon now, Claire, don’t you?” He was gratified at her small smile. “And why do you not deserve me to go to any trouble on your behalf?”

  Even troubled, she did not hide behind lies. “Because I have not always treated you as well as I should have, Simon.”

  He moved to take the seat next to her and took one of her hands in his. “To be fair, I have provoked that reaction from you.”

  He could see that she was close to tears. Exhaustion and worry were sitting heavy on her shoulders now. She looked up at him, and Simon felt her pain deep in his chest. “Not always and not to start with.”

  He searched her face. “Why did you feel the need to constantly provoke me?”

  She didn’t prevaricate or sweeten the words. “I wish I knew.”

  She looked so small suddenly–small and sad–and he couldn’t stand to see her hurting. “Will you let me help you, Claire? Just for a while, let me keep you safe?” Simon closed the distance between them and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Just this once, there is no need to show the world how strong you are, as I am the only one here to see.”

  “I can’t, Simon, because I fear if I let go, then I will fall apart.”

  He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his side. “Did you know Lord Henkle fell face first in the punch last night? It was quite a sight, especially when the punch splashed out of the bowl and covered Miss Dorothy Plummer’s new satin slippers.” She didn’t answer him, so he continued to tell her tales of the ton until he felt her body soften against him. Resting his feet on the opposite seat, he shifted, turning slightly so she lay against his chest.

  “Be still, Claire,” he said as she protested. Surprisingly, she did as he asked, and then, with a tired sigh, she placed a hand on his heart and relaxed. He found a long strawberry blonde curl trailing down her back, picked it up, and rolled it around his fingers. He had known Claire Belmont was a woman who had the ability to unsettle him, yet holding her like this, he realized he had underestimated his feelings for her. She smelt sweet and felt soft in his arms, but there was so much more to his attraction for her now. The feelings she stirred inside him should have had him dropping her at the nearest posting house and fleeing back to London. He wanted to protect her and make her smile again, and the feel of her pressed against him was a sweet form of torture.

  “You’re a good man, Simon.”

  “You sound disappointed by that observation.”

  “I’m disappointed I did not allow myself to see it before now,” she corrected him.

  “Sadly, I know when this is all over, you’ll retract those words and once again be tart-mouthed towards me.” Simon sighed, his breath stirring her hair.

  Her hand smoothed the front of his jacket, and even through the layers of cloth, he felt her touch. “I shall try not to be.”

  He knew that at this moment in time, Claire had no defences in place. If he pressed her, there was every chance she would tell him whatever he wanted. Yet he could not do that to her…or maybe he could, just a bit.

  “But where will the fun be in that? Lord, don’t tell me you will start simpering and giggling behind your hand when I draw near? It would shock me, Claire, to the soles of my large feet. I love to watch your eyes narrow as they turn on me. It is an honor that only I can make you drop that polite façade the rest of society sees. “

  “Most evenings I am simply hiding behind that façade of respectability, Simon.”

  “Are you not respectable then?” He lifted the long curl and ran it down his cheek before speaking.

  “Of course I’m respectable, but sometimes it is a struggle.”

  Her words made him smile as he imagined her suddenly doing something rash in a ballroom, like lifting her skirts and kicking her legs in the air.

  “We all have other sides to us, Claire.”

  “Do you?”

  He thought about his estate and the aunt and uncle who lived there and the large glasshouse that enclosed his treasures. Yes, he had secrets and other sides to him, too. Perhaps they were not dangerous or exciting. Nor was he ashamed of them. However, they were his secrets to hold close–his alone to share with whom he wanted, when he wanted to.

  “Yes,” he said softly. “I have another side to me that only a few people know about.”

  “You like to read those dreadful sensation novels my mother is so fond of, don’t you?”

  Simon snorted and gave the curl a tug. “I do not.”

  “You like to dress in purple satin and wear jewel heeled slippers away from the prying eyes of the public?”

  She’d always had the ability to make him smile, even when he’d wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. “No. I leave the jewel heeled slippers to Captain Cummings.”

  “He is such a silly man and cannot seriously think he looks anything but foolish, can he, Simon?”

  “To his mind, he is a man of elegance and beauty, a pinnacle for the rest of us to aspire to, and if he causes no one harm, Claire, then who are we to change him?”

  She sighed, not a delicate lady’s sigh but a gusty man’s one. “Oh dear,
not only are you a good man but a kind one, too.”

  “Poor Claire. Are your illusions being shattered?’

  “I think I always knew you were a good man, Simon. After all, we share friends.”

  “Georgia loves me best, however–she told me.”

  Her laugh sounded rusty. “Will you tell me your secrets, Simon?”

  “I think not. At least, not yet.”

  She was silent, and he could almost hear her thinking as she tried to guess what his secrets were. “D-do you have a child, Simon?”

  “Do I seem like the kind of man who would have a child or two hidden away?” Her answer suddenly meant a great deal to Simon.

  She lifted her head to look at him, and he lost himself in her lovely eyes. “No, you do not, but then, neither did my brother,” she said solemnly.

  “God I’m sorry, Claire. I didn’t think–”

  She placed her gloved fingers over his mouth. “You have nothing to apologize for, and I should never have asked you that question, as you are, indeed, an honorable man and would not abandon children to their fates.”

  The sadness in her eyes broke his heart. “I should imagine Anthony never knew of his child, Claire, so do not judge him harshly without all the facts.”

  “Do you think so?”

  Simon nodded.

  “I hope you are right,” she said and then muffled a yawn behind one hand.

  “Rest now, Claire, as you will need your strength for what is to come.” Pressing her head into his chest once more, he leaned his head back on the seat and closed his own eyes, and in minutes he slept.

  Reluctantly, Claire pushed herself upright and away from the warmth and comfort of Simon’s chest as she felt his body soften into slumber. Moving to the opposite seat, she looked at him. She had often studied people when they slept–mostly her mother whilst she caught naps between journeys–and tried to understand the miracle that had put them into the blissful yet elusive state called sleep. She had once been like that, able to sleep for long hours and awake refreshed, but no longer. Now she woke irritable and haggard. Such a small thing to many, yet to her it meant so much. Envy was a sin, and she had it tenfold whenever she saw someone sleeping peacefully.

  She shouldn’t have allowed herself to rest against Simon as she had, and she should never have told him about Anthony’s child, either, or about her trip to Liverpool. The problem was, she had not had any other options, and Simon had managed to slip beneath her defences before they were fully erected. His kindness had made her weak, and Claire could not afford weakness, especially not now.

  His face was relaxed in sleep, yet he could still make her weak female heart beat faster. He was a handsome devil, that silver and black hair making woman swoon when he was near. He was immaculately dressed, as he always was, and one large hand rested against the seat whilst his other sat on his thigh. His big feet were braced on the seat beside her. Splaying her fingers, she put them next to the one closest. They were huge, dwarfing her hand.

  She had no right to involve him in this. If anyone found them alone together, she would be ruined, and he would be the recipient of her family’s anger. She would not allow that to happen. If she was ruined for rescuing her brother’s child, then it was her ruin alone, not Simon’s. He thrived as a highly sought-after bachelor in London society, and she would not be the one to bring about his downfall. If she had to leave London and retire quietly to the country, it would not destroy her as it would him.

  Of course, now her chances of marriage were extremely unlikely. Few men would understand about the child, and add to that her sleep problems, and she did not present a very attractive prospect. In fact, Claire doubted she would find love and a man with such an understanding nature.

  He would understand. Claire looked across the carriage at the slumbering man and ignored the little voice inside her head.

  Leaning back in the seat, she let thoughts come and go through her mind as she watched Simon sleep. He didn’t move. His hands didn’t twitch or clench, and his head never rolled from side to side. It stayed perfectly still on the back of the seat. He didn’t snore or snuffle. His breathing was steady and even. She watched him closely as the carriage rolled on for mile after mile. She watched him and wondered what the child’s name was. She watched him as her mind filled with scenarios of what her future would now hold. Could she raise a child alone? What life would it have as a bastard?

  It was as the carriage began to slow that he opened his eyes and looked straight at her. He gave her a slow, sleepy smile and then stretched like a large cat.

  “I appear to have slept the journey away, madam. I do beg your pardon for being such a terrible traveling companion.”

  His voice was deep and husky from lack of use and ran like heated honey down her spine. “Do you always sleep so deeply?” Claire questioned before she could stop herself.

  “I believe so. Sleeping has always been one thing I truly excel at.”

  “How lucky you are.” Claire kept her features calm as he gave her a searching look.

  “Did you sleep?”

  “Of course,” she lied.

  He slid forward on the seat, trapping her between his legs again, and then grabbed her chin as she tried to look away from him.

  “Why did you not sleep?” he said, studying her face, “when you so obviously needed it?”

  “I-I do not sleep well in carriages.”

  He was so close, she could see a small brown freckle just above his right eye. She’d never seen it before, and for some reason, it made her stomach flutter.

  “You also do not lie very well, Miss Belmont.”

  “I– What do you mean? I’m not lying.”

  “Of course you are, and you’re atrocious at it, but the question of why you do not sleep can wait for another day. Right now, I shall tell my driver to stop somewhere quiet so we may eat and stretch our legs.

  Minutes later, the carriage stopped, and she was pleased to step down and stretch her legs. They were beside a narrow, winding stream that was flanked by plenty of soft grass and shaded trees.

  “Should we not press on, Simon? I fear we won’t reach our destination by nightfall.”

  “As you have no idea where that destination is, how do you know how far away it lies?”

  Claire huffed out a breath and placed her hands on her hips.

  “I have promised you we will reach our destination by the time you wish to. The rest, I’m afraid you will have to leave up to me and my coachmen, Merlin and Ben. Now,” he added, reaching for the basket and blanket, “a few minutes to stretch our legs and fill our stomachs will not delay us overly.”

  She trailed behind him as his long legs carried them towards the stream, where he placed a blanket beneath the shady branches of a tree and a large basket beside it.

  “Simon, when I have the child, will you let me find my own way back to London, please?” Claire had not meant to say the words so quickly; she had wanted to speak slowly, in a calm, rational manner. Standing nervously at the edge of the blanket, she looked down at him, now sprawled on most of it. So much had changed between them since this morning, and she wasn’t sure how to cope with those changes.

  “Be quiet and sit, Claire, for pity’s sake. How am I to eat with you trying to ruin my digestion?”

  “I can hardly believe any of this is happening, Simon, but most of all, I cannot believe I have coerced you into my mess. It was very wrong of me, and I want you to leave.”

  “What, now? Have you no heart, woman? I’m hungry, and it is grossly unfair of you to send me on my way in this state. Plus, if I left you here alone, you would suffer an uncomfortable night on the cold ground.” He was smiling as he teased her.

  “This is not a laughing matter, Simon. I have no wish for you to suffer because of my problems.”

  He moved quickly. One of his hands caught hers, and he pulled her down towards him, catching her as she tumbled. He then sat her on the blanket as one would a doll. She tried to clench her
fingers to stop him from removing her gloves, but soon he had them off and had handed her a piece of bread onto which he’d slapped a thick slice of ham. “Eat.”

  “No one has ever handled me like that before,” she said, stunned, yet still sitting as he had placed her.

  “Perhaps if they had, you would not be so contained.”

  “I’m not contained!”

  Simon simply gave her a steady look before saying, “Eat,” once more.

  Claire ate because, strangely, she was hungry. For days she had nibbled at her meals, yet now she suddenly found herself ravenous. As soon as she finished whatever he had thrust at her, he would hand her something else, and she continued to eat until she could not force down another morsel.

  “I was hungry,” she said, stating the obvious.

  “So you were.”

  “Simon, we must talk.”

  “No, Claire, we mustn’t. Now start folding the blanket so we can leave, as there is still some distance to cover before reaching our lodgings for the night.”

  Claire did as he asked and then followed him back to the carriage. Once there, he re-opened the hamper and gave his drivers some food, and soon, they were once again on their way. She would talk to him when they reached their lodgings. She would be calm and decisive. She would set out her case, and he would see reason and leave. Strangely, the thought of him leaving filled her with unease. Something about knowing Simon was with her made the entire journey and what she must do seem easier.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Your coachman has an unusual name, Simon.”

  “Yes. Ben is an extremely unusual name.”

  “You know very well I mean Merlin.”

  “Ah, Merlin. Yes, an odd name for a difficult man, Claire, who, of late, has been something of a trial to me.”

  “What did he do?”

  “My scullery maid is with child, and it appears he is the father.”

  “Oh dear, that is quite a difficult situation. What will you do?” Her question was one of genuine concern. Simon was pleased that she cared for the plight of his servants…which was foolish, if he thought about it. Why did her opinion matter to him so much?