by Gayle Callen
Suddenly his cane hit something hard and he came to a stop. With all his ruminating, he’d forgotten to count his steps when he’d turned down the hall. And had he turned to the right or left? He wasn’t sure if he was in the gentlemen’s or ladies’ wing of the manor. He squelched his instantaneous embarrassment. For several minutes he stumbled down the corridor, feeling more and more foolish. Door after door, he would knock, listen for silence, then step inside, each time hoping he could find a piece of furniture that would give him an idea which room he was in.
Suddenly, he heard a door open behind him, and he froze.
“Simon?”
It was Louisa, the one person he didn’t want seeing him like this, fumbling around helplessly like the blind man he was.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, and her voice was closer now.
“Everything’s fine,” he said briskly. “You can go back to bed.”
“But why are you opening doors?”
“I simply forgot to count my paces, and I lost my sense of direction. I was hoping I’d recognize a room to reorient myself.”
“Ah, I always wondered how you found your way around at night.”
His skin was hot with embarrassment. He was back to the beginning again, wondering how she looked at him, how she pitied him. His muscles were stiff; his jaw ached from clenching his teeth. Every time he was convinced he was getting by, that he was all right, something happened to make him realize how helpless he was. He was so tired of feeling alone, something he still wasn’t used to.
He walked toward her voice. “I can’t sleep. Mind if I come in?”
He heard her gasp, knew how scandalous he was being. She’d send him on his way any moment.
Then he felt her arm slide into his, and she led him inside. The entire room smelled of her; he could imagine lazy mornings waking up surrounded by the essence of her.
“I didn’t have a chance to light a candle,” she said. “I think there’s a chair right here.”
“Ah, so you’re in the dark tonight, too.” His tension began to subside.
With his cane he found the chair, then he bent until he could feel the seat. He sat down, then gave her a half smile. “I know I shouldn’t be here.”
“Stay a little while. I was writing letters earlier, and it always makes me miss my sisters. Your company is appreciated.”
“I don’t think so. This is a good excuse for you to pick my brain and try to see what I’m thinking.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I told you before, I’m not in despair—although my foolishness tonight probably has you wondering.”
“I didn’t think—”
“Then what were you thinking when you came to my room? There aren’t many women who would immediately assume that I wanted to kill myself, not when I have my family and my faculties. Well, most of them.”
She was silent for a long minute, and he began to wonder if he’d touched on something too deep for her to discuss.
“My father had those things, too,” she said softly, hesitantly. “And it didn’t matter. He killed himself.”
His mouth fell open, and he had to cover his shock as he said, “I never heard that. I’m so sorry, Louisa.”
“We hid it. I shouldn’t even be telling you. I vowed to my sisters and mother that I’d never tell a soul, and here I’ve just…blurted it out.”
“Maybe you needed to tell someone. I promise you that no one will ever hear about it from me.”
“Thank you. You see, I never recognized his despair. Of all my sisters, I was closest to him and I never saw his problems, never realized he needed help.”
“He hid them from you?”
“Oh yes. Several business investments had gone bad, and he was finally out of money.”
Simon inhaled sharply. “You mean he left his family alone to deal with his mistakes?”
“Surely you can see that he was not in his right mind.”
He could see that the man had been a coward, but she didn’t need to hear that.
“My mother was…not herself. She didn’t want their old friends and business acquaintances to know. And she wanted him buried in the church graveyard.”
“So you took the burden of hiding a suicide.” He imagined three young women seeing their father’s body, hearing their mother’s hysteria. They’d become the adults in their family.
“It wasn’t that difficult,” she said distantly. “He’d hanged himself. We didn’t let anyone see the body.”
“My God.” No one had comforted her, and he couldn’t now, though he wanted to take her into his arms.
She took a deep breath. “So forgive me for jumping to conclusions about your mental state.”
“I do. It’s understandable.”
In the dark, in their companionable silence, he felt a closeness to her that had been rare with anyone these many months. It made him sad and uneasy that he’d somehow lost the ability. Had he changed so much? He didn’t want to think so.
“Your situation makes my parents seem quite…normal,” he said.
“You didn’t think so before?”
“They were not exactly selfless. My mother is a very beautiful woman, and I think she was disappointed that Georgie doesn’t look like her. That doesn’t say much for my mother, does it.”
Bitterness crept into his voice, but Louisa said nothing.
“And Leo took up so much of their time—constantly having to be told to study, and rescued from his various schemes.”
“Your brother doesn’t sound much like you.”
“Oh, he’s a charming scoundrel, believe me. He’s very good at making one want to help him. I’ve probably done too much for him myself. For my parents, Georgie was too easy to raise—a hard worker and very dutiful. When my mother neglected to take her under her wing, to teach her of the feminine arts involved in the ton, Georgie seemed glad to be free of it all. Her inferior governess tried to seduce me more than teach Georgie.”
“And your mother didn’t do anything about her?” Louisa asked in outrage.
“Well I didn’t exactly share that last part,” he said wryly. “And as I said before, my mother—”
“Was more concerned about herself. It’s amazing you—and Georgie, of course—ended up such decent people.”
“You think I’m decent?” he said. “You wouldn’t think that of me if you knew what I was thinking when alone in the dark with you.”
Chapter 11
Louisa found herself shivering, although she was terribly warm. She was seated close to him, their knees almost touching. Her eyes were constantly drawn to the loose buttons undone at his neck, leaving his skin bare. The moonlight sculpted him, shadowed him, made him remote and yet so touchable. Every time she was with him, her own skin seemed alive with sensation. She reminded herself that he was lonely, and a romance was not the way to help him. He needed a friend more than a lover, and she wanted to be that for him—though a dark part of her longed to be the other.
“You should go, Simon,” she whispered, although she made no move to see him to the door.
She watched his face. Shadows hid his eyes, but she basked in the way he always focused on her. She’d felt so drawn to him that she’d told him about her father, broken vows she’d sworn to her family. What more would she do in the name of this…awareness between them?
And how could she know if sympathy were driving her emotions, and if he were just reacting to that? She sensed that his selfish mother had worked her cruelty on him as well. How would a woman like that tolerate a blind son?
He rose to his feet, and when she did, too, she took his arm. She felt him stiffen, saw the way his head swung to look down at her.
“When you touch me,” he said in a low, tense voice, “it’s hard to remember that you’re only helping a blind man to the door.”
“I’m a friend helping a friend. Why can’t you accept anyone’s help? It doesn’t always have to be about pity or lust.”
“I’d prefer lust.”
But he let her help him toward the door.
“You know, Simon, you’ve walked so much at night that you know your way about.”
“And you got that from tonight?”
“Tonight was an aberration. But if you’d walk around even more—say, by day—you’d become more proficient at it.”
“I hate not knowing who’s in a room.”
“Then tell everyone that. When you enter a room, they should know to tell you they’re there. You’re not imposing on anyone that way. Everyone here cares about you. Look how much you pleased them by simply sharing your meals.”
For a silent moment, she regarded him, trying to find the emotions he hid behind his expressionless face.
“I’ll think about it,” he finally said.
But there was a quirk to his lips that made her think she had won this point.
She opened the door, checked the corridor to make sure it was empty, and then guided his hand to the doorframe. “Good night.”
The next day, while the ladies were just sitting down to luncheon, deep in conversation about their next London trip, Simon came into the dining room—alone.
Louisa understood the significance immediately, and her heart lifted with gladness. Simon let his fingers trail along the chairs as he walked toward his place at the head of the table. Louisa almost called out a warning, because Lady Wade’s chair was several inches farther out than the empty ones next to her.
But Simon’s cane tapped the leg of the chair, and with his fingers he found his way around it. Startled, Lady Wade frowned up at him, then understanding flooded her face, and her eyes moistened with tears. She stared hard at Georgie, who gaped at Simon, then put a finger to her lips.
Simon pulled out his chair, sat down, and gave them all a smile. “This silence among you three is rather obvious. No, Manvil did not accompany me. Yes, it’s a miracle. Can we eat?”
“Oh, Simon,” his grandmother said fondly. “I knew you could do it.”
“I’m trying, Grandmama. But you’ll have to promise that when I enter a room, someone tells me who’s there.”
“Oh, of course. And right now, it’s Georgie, Louisa, and I.”
He grinned. “Thank you.”
Louisa took a chance. “You know, my lord, I have been thinking about the way to serve you food. I know you usually have only one item on your plate.”
“Makes things simpler,” he said dryly. “But do you plan to change that, too?”
Lady Wade and Georgie looked between them with obvious curiosity.
Louisa blushed. “What if we try four items, and tell you where they are? Like top, bottom, left, right.”
“I don’t wish to unduly burden the servants,” he said, putting his napkin in his lap.
Georgie flashed a worried look at Louisa.
But Louisa struggled on. “They’re already preparing several plates now. I don’t think it’s any more of a burden to place the food on one plate in a certain position.”
He sighed. “Don’t you feel you’re burdening the poor blind man with too many new things in one day?”
“Simon,” Lady Wade scolded. “I haven’t noticed any self-pity, so you can’t start now.”
Louisa held her breath, exchanging glances with Georgie.
Simon hesitated. “Grandmama, just because I don’t display my every feeling, doesn’t mean I haven’t experienced them. Self pity, especially. But I’m doing better. And I’ll think about what Miss Shelby said regarding my food.”
“That’s all anyone can ask,” Lady Wade said.
They ate in companionable silence until Simon was served a plate of ham, and Georgie tried to cut it for him.
“Georgie,” he said, “if you don’t want me to pity myself, then I need to start cutting my meat so I feel older than five.”
“Oh,” she said, straightening up and setting down his knife. “I knew that Cook would—I never meant—”
“Of course you didn’t,” he said gently. “You have been my source of strength through this, Georgie, and I wouldn’t have come this far without you.”
Lady Wade dabbed at her eyes again, and even Louisa felt a tightening in her throat. Before making fools of themselves crying in front of Simon, they went on talking about Georgie’s wardrobe fittings. They all pretended not to watch Simon, who was the center of attention, whether he wanted to be or not. He cut his meat slowly, felt purposefully for the meat, speared it, and put it into his mouth. He showed no triumph at doing something so little, but Louisa felt it for him.
Had she truly helped him? She’d encouraged him to walk alone, but hadn’t imagined he’d be ready to take two new “steps” on the same day. She was filled with a sense of happiness that she’d made a difference. There weren’t many men who would so graciously accept her help, especially when she and Simon were…distracted by each other, feeling things they shouldn’t be feeling. She closed her eyes and tried to forget how just her touch had made him react. She well understood that. He did the same thing to her.
As if he could sense her staring at him, he looked toward her, and she blushed and took another bite of her eggs. She tried to let him eat in peace by turning to Georgie. “Though we’re only going for fittings, I’m sure we can persuade the dressmaker to give you a few gowns that day. Then we can begin the next phase of your education.”
Georgie sat back in her chair, looking nervous but determined. “What do you have in mind?”
“It’s time to accept invitations from local families, perhaps a small dinner party or musicale. You’ll feel like a different person with a new hairstyle and wardrobe.”
Georgie nodded, but Louisa sensed that the bravery wasn’t coming easily.
“Everything we’ve been working on will start coming naturally, Georgie, I promise. Even the dancing. We’ll practice the quadrille again this afternoon.”
While Lady Wade discussed Enfield’s imminent—but minor—social calendar, Simon appeared almost too thoughtful. Louisa knew he was worried about Georgie being hurt again. She wanted to reassure him, but not in front of his sister.
Simon tried to concentrate on the delicate task of cutting his meat, but his thoughts wouldn’t leave the image of Georgie walking into a dinner party beside Louisa. God help him, he knew Louisa would never purposefully harm anyone, but just by being at Georgie’s side, harm might result. There were men with no scruples, who would lead on a naïve young woman, and have her alone before she realized what was happening. Had Louisa been such a victim?
In his mind he saw Louisa, beautiful, confident, unaware of the ugliness in some men’s minds when they looked at her. She would be crushed if she knew the truth.
But Georgie could lose the opportunity to attract her own callers. Simon considered accompanying them, but what good would he be to them? Georgie would feel like she had to take care of him, rather than giving herself the chance to be available to talk to future suitors. Simon would be forced to imagine what people were thinking or doing. It would be a terrible way to spend an evening, and with no redeeming value to Georgie at all.
Then he thought of Louisa, naïve in some ways about how she affected men. She, too, would be vulnerable. But Simon would have to rely on his grandmother, or maybe Paul, to tell him what happened.
His plan to guard Georgie from what Louisa might teach her hadn’t really worked yet—because so far there was nothing to guard against. Louisa was helping.
For several days, Louisa was busy, going on calls with Lady Wade and working with Georgie in the afternoons. Her life felt almost fulfilling—especially since she was watching her other “secret” student blossom. Simon was moving cautiously about the manor, and it lifted everyone’s spirits. Whenever Louisa had free time, she followed him just to see how he was doing—what he was doing. When she wasn’t with him, she was wondering about him. Once she saw him trip on the legs of a table that had been moved. She almost went to him, but stopped herself in time. He wouldn’t want her to know she’d witnessed wha
t he probably thought was a humiliation. She only saw bravery and determination in everything he did.
This obsession with Simon wasn’t good for her, because the lingering temptation of him was only slumbering, waiting, feeding on itself and growing larger, so that at night she lay awake and ached for him. She played the kiss over and over in her mind, and imagined he’d come to talk to her again, this time of his own volition.
She kept reminding herself that he had virtually trapped himself in the house, that she was the only lady here not related to him. Of course he would be distracted by her.
The day after returning from the London dress fittings, Louisa and Georgie were practicing their quadrille in the afternoon when Lady Wade entered and sat down to watch them. Louisa was doing well in the man’s steps of the dance. When they were finished, they curtsied dramatically as Lady Wade clapped her enthusiasm.
“Oh, girls, that was marvelous,” the old woman said. “Georgie my child, with that lovely hairstyle and that beautiful gown and such grace, everyone will admire you.”
As Georgie blushed, Louisa looked at her with pride. She almost felt like a mother.
“But there’s someone to see you in the drawing room,” Lady Wade continued.
“Who?” Georgie asked. “Is Mr. Reyburn visiting?”
“Yes.”
Louisa had thought she detected a curious, momentary hesitation in Lady Wade’s manner, but Georgie was already patting the curls of her hair where they brushed her neck.
“Do I look all right?”
Louisa smiled. “You look beautiful.”
And that wasn’t a lie. With a flattering hairstyle and an elegant green gown that matched her eyes, Georgie could turn many a head. But maybe Mr. Reyburn’s head was all she wanted to turn. Louisa thoughtfully watched her walk to the door.
“You, too, Louisa,” Lady Wade said, waving her away.
“Of course,” Louisa answered, smiling. “Georgie needs a chaperone.”
She caught up to Georgie in the corridor and said, “So Mr. Reyburn has caught your eye.”
Georgie shot her a startled look, and although she blushed, she said, “We’re simply friends.”
