by Rose Gordon
“A girl after my own heart,” Mr. Appleton said with a chuckle. He stood and held his arm out toward her. “May I escort you to the dining room?”
Rae looked to Simon for help.
“It’ll be all right,” he murmured quietly. “He doesn’t bite…hard.”
Rae reached out to swat at Simon’s shoulder and abruptly stopped two inches short. “Thank you, Mr. Appleton,” she said to her father-in-law.
“I’m ashamed to say this, but you should have swatted him,” Mr. Appleton said. “I’m afraid I didn’t tan his little hide enough as a little boy, you might need to smack him a little to keep him in line.”
Rae nearly choked. “Excuse me,” she wheezed, covering her upper chest and lower throat with her hand.
“Did my frankness scandalize you?”
“No.”
“Pity,” he said. “I shall try harder next time.”
“And I shall have to swing harder next time,” Rae parried.
Mr. Appleton let out a howl of laughter. “A closed fist usually helps.”
Shaking her head, Rae allowed Mr. Appleton to walk her to a vacant seat on the right side of the head of the table.
Mr. Appleton sat on the end, with his wife flanking him across the table from Rae and Simon sat on Rae’s right side.
“What a fortunate man I am,” Mr. Appleton announced, grinning like a jackal. “Dining within arm’s reach of the two most beautiful ladies in London.”
“Aha, so that’s where Simon learned it,” Rae mused. She appreciated Mr. Appleton trying to include her, but he was starting to go too far.
“Where Simon gets what?” Katherine asked.
“His exaggerated charm.” Rae bit her lip, hoping she hadn’t just offended anyone.
“Young lady, you have no idea.” A broad grin split Katherine’s face. “When Walter and I first met, he tried to convince me—”
Cough! Cough! Hack! Cough! Hack! Mr. Appleton banged his open palm over his chest. “Excuse me.” He waved his free hand in a rolling gesture. “Water,” he gasped.
Katherine picked up his water glass and pulled it toward her chest. “He tried to have me believe he invented the slide rule,” she said, then plunked his water down in front of him and shuddered. “Not that I had use for such a thing.”
Mr. Appleton attempted to chug his water while coughing and sputtering. He lifted his other hand, palm out.
“I’ll have you know—” Cough, cough.
Taking mercy on him, Rae said, “My younger sisters have both trained Simon to kiss their hands—no matter what they’ve had them in—each time they see him.”
“They do?” Katherine asked through her giggles.
Rae nodded her confirmation, noting the way Simon’s face was ten shades of red. Instinctively, she reached over and patted his arm just above his wrist. He turned his hand over, his fingers intent on holding hers. A chill came over her. Was he playing a part around his parents? The magic was gone in that very moment and Rae pulled her hand back to her lap.
If his parents had noticed their exchange, neither said anything about it.
“That I should like to see,” Mr. Appleton said.
“Perhaps one day we will?” Katherine suggested, spearing a pear with the end of her fork.
“I would like nothing more,” Rae said, surprising herself at just how much she meant that.
29
Simon’s gut knotted in the most painful way, and it had nothing to do with the fact that his mother had invited Rae to spend the day with her, but more of where he currently stood…
Just us, Mother had added as soon as she’d made the suggestion at the end of breakfast.
Simon might not be the most perceptive man in all of London, but Rae’s apprehension had been as plain as day. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything he could do to spare her such a fate. If he stepped in with some excuse today, Mother would have insisted they spend the day together tomorrow. Besides, he needed to see to the business of getting his bedroom furniture moved into their new house today. Staying another night at Father and Mother’s was not an option.
Moreover, perhaps if Rae and Mother were given some time alone, Mother would recognize the spark about Rae that had drawn him in, and it’d be yet another boon if Rae returned to him feeling more confident about her place and less concerned about his parents’ opinion of him.
A man could hope, couldn’t he?
Simon made a left on the next street and froze.
Giles lived three houses down. He had a list as long as his inseam to get done before he was to collect Rae from the lending library this afternoon, but none of those things seemed overly important as the moment. Thoughts of Rae and her siblings and their undeniable love and friendship filled his head and try as he might, he couldn’t dispel them.
Could Giles be his greatest friend? They were brothers, after all. Was it possible for the two of them to set aside their differences and rough start and be friends?
He’d never know if he didn’t try, he decided as he forced his feet to carry him down the street and up the stairs to Giles’ townhouse.
Simon took hold of the door knocker and banged it twice before he lost his nerve then blinked in surprise when Giles himself opened the door.
“Simon?” Giles asked.
“Have I been gone so long you didn’t recognize me?” Simon teased.
“No. I recognized you,” Giles said adamantly. “You’ve never darkened my door before.”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” And judging by the way Giles hadn’t invited him inside yet, he had the feeling that Giles didn’t want him to darken it.
“Why wouldn’t I want your company?” Giles asked, his brow furrowing.
Simon could rattle off a dozen reasons. He didn’t. “I don’t know,” he said a tad sarcastically. “Everyone finds me charming.”
“My wife didn’t.”
Simon’s face burned with mortification, and a retort sprang to mind. He reminded himself that Giles’ often blunt words and simple speech was a result of his being born with his life’s cord wrapped around his neck, not of malice intent. “Indeed, she didn’t,” Simon agreed. “For the best, too.”
Giles stared at him, his expression unreadable.
“We didn’t suit and never would have,” Simon said. “She picked the right brother.”
Something flickered in Giles’ green eyes and his jaw tightened. “Is that why you came?”
“Because Mother had a moment of confession last night? No.” He removed his grey felt hat and fingered the brim. “Giles, I’d already put the pieces of that particular puzzle together.” He grimaced. “I’ll grant you, a few didn’t go where I thought they did, but overall, I’d already deduced we shared more than just a mother.”
Giles stiffened.
Surely Simon wasn’t informing Giles of something he hadn’t already realized. Or had he? Uncertainty filled him. “Perhaps I should go.”
Shrugging, Giles said, “If you want to.”
“Considering you haven’t invited me inside, and you’re staring at me as if you’d like nothing more than to strangle me, I think it’s my best option at the moment.”
Giles took a step back. “You can come in.”
Perhaps it was merely because Simon didn’t know Giles well enough to read his expression and tone, but he had the oddest feeling he should go and allow Giles to get back to whatever it was he’d been doing before Simon had arrived.
“That’s all right, Giles. Perhaps another time.”
With only a single nod, Giles closed the door, and Simon went about his day. He’d tried. That’s the best he could do. Rae and her siblings might have a wonderful relationship, but that didn’t mean Simon and Giles would have the same.
After nine long hours of errands and paperwork, it was finally time to go to the lending library.
“Did you two have a good day?” Simon asked his mother; Rae was nowhere to be seen.
“I did.” Mother
bit her lip. “Simon, I think Rae isn’t feeling the thing.”
Ah, so it hadn’t been his imagination. A small measure of relief coursed through him.
“Ladies,” Mother began again, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Every so many weeks your new bride will…um…her mood will change a bit.” She found something fascinating about his cravat and stared at it. “As will some of her interests.”
Now it was Simon’s turn to shift uncomfortably. Long ago his father had informed him of the facts of life. That was awkward enough, but if he understood his mother correctly, that made things even more awkward.
“Thank you,” he choked, still uncomfortable about the conversation and yet, grateful that he now had a reason for why Rae had turned so cold toward him. “Where is she?”
“I sent her to go lie down.”
Simon made his way to the small living quarters in the upstairs part of the library. Without knocking, Simon slowly opened the door and took in his wife’s resting form. With her dark hair slipping from its pins and a faint pink staining her cheeks from exertion, she was an image of beauty. Simon sat on the bed next to her and swept the hair from her forehead. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Yes, please.”
Simon helped her up then looked around. “Where are your purchases?” He wasn’t sure if she’d remembered their new address to have them sent there.
“I don’t have any purchases.”
“Oh.” Simon handed her reticule to her then frowned. “Please forgive me, tomorrow I’ll inform all of the shops on Bond Street that you may charge to my account.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Was there something you liked that you’d like for us to go back for now?” he offered, willing to do anything he could to bring a smile to her lips.
Rae knit her brows. “Simon, why do you think we went shopping?”
“Because that’s what ladies do,” he said without hesitation. As soon as the words were out, a better understanding of the day took root and a lead ball was lowered on his stomach. “You two spent your day here, didn’t you?”
With an audible swallow, she nodded. Tears glistened in her eyes and Simon wrapped her in a hug. “Rae, I’m so sorry. When my mother said she wanted to spend the day with you, I assumed she planned to take you shopping or calling not to work at her blasted lending library. I’ll go speak to her immediately.”
“No! You mustn’t.” Rae’s hands pushed at his shoulders, tears coursing down her face. “I don’t want her to know.”
Simon enclosed her hands with his. “I won’t tell her everything, just that you’re not her apprentice and if she wants to spend time with you, it won’t be here.”
“Please, don’t say anything to her.” Her tone held an edge of hysteria he didn’t understand.
“If I don’t then you’ll be back here again,” he pointed out.
“Which is better than if you do and she wants nothing to do with me.”
Simon pulled her close again. “You and my mother can find something else to do together,” he assured her.
“Simon, please promise me you won’t tell her. Please?”
“But what if she could help you learn to read?”
Her stricken face was her only reply.
“All right, I won’t tell her,” he promised. He’d promise her the world if he could. Though how he’d go about helping her hide that for the rest of her life was a mystery to him. An idea formed. “But—” he tipped her chin up using three of his fingers— “only if you promise to let me help you learn.”
Rae’s body went rigid in his hold. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why does it suddenly matter so much to you that I cannot read?” She pulled away from him. “It didn’t before we wed. Why does it now?”
“It doesn’t matter to me.” He pierced her with his gaze. “It matters to you.”
Rae wished Simon wasn’t so blasted perceptive. It did matter to her. For as much as Simon tried to tell her that it shouldn’t, it did. It all mattered. It only confirmed why his parents thought Simon chose to marry her. There was nothing special about her. She was just someone to ease his pain.
“Let’s go home,” she said, forcing a smile she didn’t feel.
30
One Week Later
Just as Simon had concluded when he’d talked to Rae in his mother’s library, Rae’s sudden change toward him had nothing to do with a female complaint. Though she acted and claimed nothing was wrong—she even smiled and winked at him from time to time and never once denied him intimacies—something was amiss. He just knew it.
And it was driving him mad.
So much so he was considering asking his mother to speak to her. He gulped. No. He wasn’t that desperate. Yet.
Perhaps he should pay Lady Townson a call—
“Go home, Simon,” Father said from the open door.
Simon jerked. “Pardon?”
“Simon, go home to your wife. There’s little to do here today.” He strolled into the room and took a seat on the opposite side of Simon’s desk. “Which is for the best.”
“How so?”
“Because I doubt you’d be able to pay any mind to anything other than woolgathering about your new bride,” Father teased.
Scowling, Simon said, “These aren’t pleasant thoughts.”
“No?”
Simon shook his head.
“Would you care to talk about it?”
“No,” Simon said automatically. He sighed. “I mean no offense to you, but the last thing any man wishes to do is talk about his marital problems with his father.”
“I can think of worse things,” Father said gently. “But, if that’s the last thing you want to do, perhaps then you’d rather bring these documents to Giles and give him a message for me.”
“He doesn’t want to see me,” Simon said with a scoff.
“Have you ever considered that your sticky web of problems with others, namely Giles and now Henrietta, has more to do with your lack of trying to untangle a little knot before it became a much larger one?”
Simon pursed his lips together. “What is that to mean?”
“You need to put forth a little more effort for what you want.” Father tossed the documents on Simon's desk. “Start with making an effort to go see Giles.”
“I did,” Simon defended. “Last week. He didn’t even invite me into his house.”
“Did you tell him you were there to talk to him?”
That brought Simon up short. “No.” He drew the word out. “I didn’t think I needed to.”
“The man isn’t a seer, Simon. If you wanted to talk to him, you need to tell him so. It might help to add that you mean him no harm.” Father mumbled that last part under his breath.
Simon thought that went without question when someone showed up on the front stoop. But, considering that Simon and Giles hadn’t exchanged too many civil words, he could understand Giles’ hesitation.
“All right,” Simon said. “What message do you have for him?”
Father’s eyebrows rose. “You’re actually going to go see him?”
“Yes.” Simon sighed. “For as much as you and Mother think I hate him, I don’t ,and if we’ll be seeing each other every Michaelmas, I’d better go start making amends now.”
The same was true for Rae. The two of them had no less than three decades to live out together; he needed to clear things up there, too.
Simon quickly tidied up his desk while his father scrolled out a message for Giles. He folded it, then grabbed a candle from Simon’s desk, and dripped wax on the edge before removing his ring and sealing it.
“If it’s important enough you needed to seal it, are you sure you’d rather not take this yourself?” Simon asked.
“And take away your excuse to go visit?” Father shook his head and stood. He strolled to the door. “But were I you, I’d say what you planned to say before giving that to him.” Then without another word
, Father quit the room.
Fifteen minutes later Simon was standing in the very spot he’d been only a week ago, feeling just as anxious. Splendid.
Also just as before, Giles opened the door.
“Do you always open your own door?” Simon asked before he could think better of it.
“When it’s the servants’ day off, yes.”
“They all take the same day?” Simon’s parents had only ever employed a cook and a coachman and had never given thought to how a large staff took their days.
“When there are only three, then yes,” Giles said matter-of-factly. He took a step back. “Would you like to come in?”
Hesitantly, Simon walked inside. Giles’ house was larger than Father and Mother’s, but had very few decorations and furnishings. In fact, all he could see from where he stood was only a minimal amount of wall sconces dotting the walls in the hall. No portraits. No statues. No tables with vases. Nothing.
“Why are you here?” Giles asked suddenly and without a hint of ceremony.
“Because I was passing by and thought I should stop by.” Simon fisted his hands in his pockets. “Perhaps offer an apology.”
“Drawing room.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re not here on official business, we should go to the drawing room.” Giles strode over to the closest door and pulled it open. He gestured inside. “After you.”
Simon entered the minimally furnished drawing room, thankful there were two chairs available. They might be brothers who shared more than just a mother, but that’s as far as it went.
Giles wordlessly plopped down in the other chair.
Were Simon a fly buzzing about, he’d have found the scene comical.
As a human, and most notably the one who’d been an arse since their first meeting, it wasn’t quite so comical. “Giles, my behavior toward you has been…er…”
“Understandable,” Giles finished for him.
Simon snapped his head to look at the strange man seated beside him.
“I wouldn’t like to be in your position as much as I am in my own,” Giles said solemnly. “I always thought you knew.”
