The Wild Passion of an Eccentric Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Emily Honeyfield

  “You deserve a man who can give you his whole heart, Emilia,” Simon said with utter conviction. “And I must not proceed until I know that I am that man, and that there is no other.”

  Simon watched as a gentle wave of disappointment came over Emilia’s face. Had he hurt her? Simon was speaking the truth. Lust was clouding his reasoning, and he needed time and space to examine his own heart. Emilia deserved no less. So much had been revealed on that evening, so much had transpired, and Simon needed contemplation to know the truth.

  “I fear that I need time to understand the same,” Emilia finally said, rolling off of his chest. When she did so, Simon could also feel a sting of disappointment. He didn’t want her to create distance, either physical or emotional. “It’s so confusing, this arrangement that we have. And emotions have been provoked,” Emilia went on.

  “Yes, that is what I feel.”

  “And perhaps in the fantasy that we have created, I allowed myself to fall into it completely. Were you to be my husband, I would not pause. But because this is all for deception, it seems a tad dangerous.”

  “I do not want you to feel danger at any time,” Simon said, caressing her cheek once more. “We will only go as far as you’re comfortable.”

  What the devil was Simon implying? That should she wish to go further, he’d capitalize upon her wishes? No, Simon needed to be firm with himself to ensure that he could be trusted. He needed to make a resolution with himself not to proceed unless he was sure that his heart was feeling the love that he thought it felt.

  Were that the case, Simon would give himself over to Emilia fully. He would not hold back. Simon was the kind of man that once he decided upon something, there was no turning back. He discovered with Lady Susana that once his heart was in the mix, it would not back down. His heart became hungry for her, and when Lady Susana refused him, it only intensified his ardour.

  It made Simon recall what he had said to Emilia earlier. He warned her of the fickleness of men’s hearts; how when the object of their affections refused them, it caused the heart to be fonder. And when their hearts and passions were accepted, it could cause a man to lack in affections. Simon was beginning to believe that what he had stated had been false. He could see himself loving Emilia, even as she gave over her heart to him.

  In fact, he could see that making his heart all the more ardent. Why was she having this effect on him? There were no games to be played and nothing to hide. Simon felt as though he could be entirely open and honest with Emilia, and she would not hurt him. Knowing this filled him with a manly satisfaction that he never before thought possible.

  Simon longed to take Emilia and pull her on top of his chest once more, but since his senses had finally returned, he was resolved not to do so. Emilia was not his to pick up and do with as he pleased. She was her own entity and required the utmost respect. To stick to this resolution was going to be hard, but Simon finally felt the strength to be more fully a man and abide by his principles.

  “They must wonder where we are,” Emilia said, a note of concern in her voice.

  “We can tell them that we were painting,” Simon said.

  “I suppose that’s a good excuse. But my hair is amiss,” Emilia said with a little laugh.

  “Not nearly enough,” Simon said, then instantly scolded himself. Had he not made a resolution to behave himself but a moment ago? Although, he looked into Emilia’s eyes and could see that she delighted in what he had said. This brought him satisfaction all over again. “You know, we can just remind them that we’re an engaged couple, and can do what we please.”

  “I suppose that we do act the part rather convincingly, don’t we?” Emilia said with a humorous smile.

  “We did not need to rehearse even for a moment.”

  “I find it all rather extraordinary,” Emilia went on, turning contemplative. “We formulated the plan quickly and stepped into this new world without hesitation. It’s been a success, and now we’re lying next to each other on a couch!”

  “It all does seem far-fetched, I know. I never dreamed that things would happen the way that they have.”

  “I’m still utterly grateful to you,” Emilia said, looking into Simon’s eyes. As she did so, he softened yet again. Every time that he looked into her eyes, Simon saw something new there. It was as though she were unfolding before him.

  “I’m grateful to you,” Simon replied.

  “No, but truly,” Emilia went on. “This was your plan, after all. You didn’t need to help me. You probably just felt pity for me. Whatever was the cause, I feel as though you saved me.”

  And Simon wished to save her over and over again, in countless different ways. He humorously thought that he hoped that Emilia faced a number of catastrophes each day so that he could save her.

  Simon chose not to utter any of this with words.

  “I could sense that you were truly in need,” Simon went on. “For whatever reason, I couldn’t bear to see you suffer in the way that you were. There was a fragility that I saw in you that night, and it pained me to think that you were getting hurt in any way.”

  “I do not feel that pain anymore,” Emilia went on, her tone warm and humble. “I feel safe again.”

  That was all that Simon needed to hear. He wished for Emilia to say that she truly loved him, that she wanted to be with him. But, in the end, as long as he made Emilia feel safe, then he was content. There were countless things that he wanted from Emilia Spencer that he daren’t ask for, but her safety was capital.

  “Come,” Simon said, thinking that it was finally time that they join the others. Getting up from the couch that was still warm from the heat of their bodies, Simon reached out his hand so that Emilia might take it. He pulled her up swiftly and firmly so that Emilia did not need to expel any energy. If she was feeling nearly half as exhausted as he was, then he didn’t want her to exert herself.

  But even though he was spent as though they had just made love fully, there was also a giddy energy within his breast. Although he did not know the true nature of the emotions that resided there, Simon had a feeling that that must be the sensation of love.

  Chapter 16

  Coming back down the stairs, Simon bid Emilia to walk in front of him as he delighted in being behind her for reasons that he could not explain. There was silence as they walked and not much more to say. They had nearly given themselves to one another fully, and they both seemed to be basking in the glow of it. Thoughts of Emilia would linger in his mind for the rest of the evening without abatement.

  Entering the tearoom, they were greeted with smiling faces. It was truly almost time for supper, but it seemed as though the little group was content to remain in the tearoom until the dining room was ready. Kingsley had come out of his room and seemed to be in better spirits. Rose seemed pleased to be speaking with the artist at length.

  Ushering Emilia into the room, Simon brought his hand to the small of her back to direct her, and then wondered whether or not that was best. He didn’t wish to reveal too much, but she was his supposed fiancée, after all. It was all so confusing, but Simon decided that, in the wake of what they had just experienced, he’d allow his affection to come through for all to see.

  “Welcome!” Lady Helena said, seated beside her husband.

  “I’m afraid that we got a trifle carried away with painting,” Emilia said, and Simon pulled out her chair so that she might be seated.

  “We were wondering where you were,” Kingsley said, his tone dubious. It was as though he knew exactly what it was that Simon and Emilia had been up to. Simon had done his best to remedy his appearance, but Kingsley could see through such things.

  Just then, Simon thought that there was another precaution that he and Emilia could have attended to. A little smudge of paint upon the hands would have been a fine choice. After Emilia was seated, Simon came around the table and seated himself, content to be able to look across at Emilia, though wishing she were nearer. Upon seating himself, Simon im
mediately looked across at Emilia, who was looking back at him. They shared a smile of understanding and listened as the conversation carried on. The tea brought Simon even more into reality and back to his senses. What had happened up in the studio already seemed like a dream; a dream that he never wished to forget.

  “Are we staying for supper?” Rose asked, and Emilia knit her brow.

  “Rose, you should never be the one to ask such questions.”

  “Nonsense,” Kingsley said with a wave of the hand. “Of course, you can stay. I’ll have Rutledge prepare the table for six.”

  “That’s ever so kind of you,” Emilia said graciously. “I can’t believe the evening was so fast upon us.”

  “Time flies when engaged in pleasant activities,” Simon said and instantly regretted it. He knew what he was implying. Simon wondered if he’d need to hold his tongue for the rest of the evening.

  Just then, Rutledge entered the room with the same disinterested scowl that he always had. “Good evening,” he said with a bow of the head.

  “Rutledge, be sure to set the table for six tonight,” Kingsley said.

  “Yes, sir,” Rutledge replied.

  “Also, take pains to ensure that the raspberry soufflé is served for pudding.”

  “Very well.”

  “That is all,” Kingsley added, picking up his cup of tea.

  “There are two letters that I wish to deliver,” Rutledge said, stepping towards the table. He placed them in front of Simon.

  “I thank you,” Simon said. He thought it curious that two letters arrived at the same time.

  “I’ll call when dinner is prepared,” Rutledge added, and left the room.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Simon said, taking the letters and exiting the tearoom. Although it couldn’t possibly be something urgent, Simon thought it best to check, nonetheless.

  Walking into the study, Simon opened the first letter and saw instantly that it was from none other than Lady Susana. He felt his breath catch in his chest and proceeded to read.

  Dearest Simon,

  I know that our last encounter was a bit trying, and for that I apologize. The past few weeks have been rather surprising and confusing. I know that perhaps learning of my engagement cut you to the quick, but please understand that I didn’t wish for that in the slightest. I’m so happy that you’re engaged to that woman.

  I only wish to see you content. But I must say that since seeing you, there are emotions that I’ve been feeling that need to be expressed. It was like I was seeing you for the first time, Simon, and it moved my heart, just as it did before. Of course, this is all rather difficult considering that I’m now engaged, but please understand my need to express this to you. If you feel so moved, please respond to this letter with the truth of your heart.

  Sincerely,

  Lady Susana

  Simon nearly dropped the letter. There was so much to respond to that he didn’t know where to begin. For one thing, calling Emilia “that woman” infuriated him. If Lady Susana didn’t wish to use her name properly, then Emilia should never be referred to at all.

  The next thing to note was that the letter didn’t stir Simon nearly as much as he thought it might. He had told Emilia earlier that he was unsure of his feelings for Lady Susana, but the effect of the letter confirmed the fact that his feelings were not strong.

  That being said, Lady Susana did seem sincere. Wasn’t this what he wanted all along? Wasn’t it his greatest desire to have her fling herself into his arms? That was the whole point of the plan, but now things were turning in a different direction. Should he allow Lady Susana back into his life, most importantly of all, what would that do to Emilia?

  Simon was filled with a heady mix of emotions and decided it best to turn his attention to the second letter to take his mind off of things. Opening it, he knew that it was going to be of a different tenor instantly, merely by the handwriting. Simon could tell that the content of the letter was strident. He began to read.

  James,

  I know who you are, and I see what you’re doing. I was once a fan of Sir Gregory Kingsley, now I can most certainly say that I am no longer. His crimes are apparent, and I have evidence. The forgery of paintings is no small business, and I do have the means to expose this charade.

  Regards

  Simon’s blood instantly went cold. Who the devil had sent that letter and how did they know that Kingsley was painting copies? It was almost impossible to detect. It would have to be someone familiar with the works of the original artist. But the copies came from a collection that was not seen by anyone except the dead artist’s grandchild.

  Perhaps it was a fellow that saw multiple copies of certain Kingsley paintings in various countries? There was no way for Simon to be sure, but he did feel great fear. Should Kingsley be exposed, it would be the end of his career, the end of Montgomery House, and the end to the happiest years that Simon had ever known.

  Simon didn’t know what to do with the letter. Should he pocket it or burn it? He had the mind to make a fire and burn it instantly but wondered at the back of his mind whether or not Kingsley might want to see it for proof. He decided for the time being to save the letter as evidence.

  What surprised Simon was that there was no bribery in the letter. There were no threats. It was someone merely wanting to state what he could see. Or she. What if the letter was from a woman? From the handwriting, it was nearly impossible to tell, as though the text had been written in haste.

  Simon pulled his hand through his hair and thought of what to do next. How odd that he had told Emilia of all this business that very night. It was as though something was stirring in the atmosphere and everything threatened to come to the surface all at once. Was his plan with Emilia in jeopardy? Was her reputation in jeopardy? That night he had assured her that she would never come to any harm, but now, Simon was going to have to uphold that promise.

  He knew that he should return to supper at once, but Simon lingered in the study, pacing to and fro. Thoughts of Lady Susana’s letter returned to mind, and Simon couldn’t help being amazed at how well the plan was being executed.

  It was exactly the kind of response that he had wanted, and her need for forgiveness nearly fell into his lap. But had she asked for forgiveness? It seemed that she had merely stated her emotions and asked for Simon to do the same. What a bloody trap. No, all that Lady Susana wanted was for Simon to confess his own love so that she might feel powerful and vindicated yet again. Simon would not fall for such a trap.

  Should he tell Emilia about the letter? He knew that she would be impressed, but considering the truly deep emotions that they now shared, would it hurt her in some way to hear of what had happened? There was nothing that would pain Simon more. It seemed absurd to think of, but Simon was beginning to believe that the notion of Emilia feeling pain would make him feel pain, as well. He had no desire to make her jealous, and was sincerely grateful that she had not tried to do the same that evening.

  When Emilia mentioned Lord Pendergast, she could have expressed disappointment that he was not courting her. She could have tried to sway Simon in some way, were her feelings for him sincere. But Emilia had done no such thing and had spoken the truth. The very notion of that filled Simon with a sense of comfort and trust.

  Trust was truly the thing. After all that Lady Susana had done to him, if he ever got to the stage where he could truly trust Emilia, then she would have his heart; past question. She could have everything that he possessed; all his innermost thoughts and opinions. But Simon was getting ahead of himself.

  The deeper, weightier business was in the second letter, and he wished with every fabric of his being that he could ignore it. Simon desired to tear it up, throw it in with the rubbish, and convince himself that the whole thing was a fluke. But was that realistic or merely avoidance?