by Rose Gordon
Juliet batted the pillow down. “Your mind is in the sludge, young lady.” She tsked. “It was just as enjoyable to have him admit how he felt about me as it was to have him show me.”
And then with a wink, Juliet scooted off the bed and left.
Rae wanted to believe her sister. And for part of it she did. Relations with Simon would be enjoyable. She’d certainly enjoyed sitting on his lap in the woods… But she still wasn’t convinced his feelings for her were the same as hers for him and the thought made pain slice through her all over again.
It was finally time for Lucy and Giles’ wedding and Simon thought he just might burst.
“You don’t look so good, Uncle Simon,” Seth said by way of greeting. He came and sat down next to Simon who’d found an empty bench in the dark hall near where the bride and groom were dressing for their grand event.
“Thank you,” Simon said dryly, scooting over to give the lad more room. “Your new grandpapa has kept me buried under a mound of papers that must weigh one hundred stones.”
Seth grimaced. “You don’t think he’d do that to me, do you?”
“Put you to work in his office and teach you how to manage investments?” Simon nodded thoughtfully. “He just might. It’s not such awful employment.” He patted the boy’s head. “You have a few years yet.”
Seth released the most dramatic sigh Simon had ever heard. “Oh good. I’m rather partial to playing games and painting with Giles.”
Simon arched a brow. “Giles, huh?”
“He’s more fun to play with than Mama,” he said sheepishly.
Simon coughed to cover his laugh. “That’s not what I meant,” he said when he recovered. “You’re still calling him Giles.”
“I know.” Seth bowed his head and stared at the top of his knees as if there was something unbelievably fascinating about the blue breeches he wore. “I haven’t asked yet.” He looked up, uncertainty stamped on his face. “What if he says no?”
“I don’t think he’ll say no.”
“But if he does then…” Seth shrugged.
Sensing that the boy needed more encouragement, but not sure how to offer it, Simon said, “Maybe after the wedding, when things slow down the timing will be better?”
Just then, Giles emerged from his dressing room.
It was the first time Simon had seen him since the day he’d made an utter fool of himself in the lending library. Dressed in blue and gold, Giles looked quite dapper. “Congratulations,” Simon offered, pushing to his feet. “I think you two are well suited.”
Giles stared at him unblinkingly. “Do you?”
“Yes.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and forced himself to talk to Giles. “I suppose after today you can remind me that she’s taken.” He grinned. “And now so are you.”
Giles offered him a slim, uncertain smile and Simon clapped him on the back.
“Forget I said anything. Let’s get you up by the altar.”
For as long as Simon lived he’d never forget Giles informing Simon that Isabelle wasn’t available for him to pursue. “She’s taken,” he’d said. Then again and again each time Simon tried to inform Giles that he and Isabelle had an understanding. The man had been right, of course. Isabelle was taken. And now, so was Lucy. And Rae? Simon nearly tripped over his own feet.
Giles telling Simon that Isabelle was taken had infuriated him. Not because he’d spun daydreams of the two of them living happily-ever-after, but rather she hadn’t told him herself. Instead, she’d allowed him to make a fool of himself. Lucy’s engagement was more of a surprise and his first instinct was that she’d been taken advantage of and as a gentleman, he felt responsible to help her. But she hadn’t wanted help and when he realized that, again he was mortified more than anything.
But what about Rae?
What if she was taken? By him.
Simon’s pulse quickened and his jaw suddenly started to hurt. He idly rubbed his hand over the side of his face and forced himself to relax his face. From the corner of his eye, he saw the curious looks from Seth, Giles, and the vicar who’d apparently been waiting for them.
“You’ve got that look again, Uncle Simon,” Seth said as Giles and the vicar walked off.
Simon scowled at Seth and they both burst out with laughter at his attempt to be angry.
Unfortunately for Simon, that sick feeling in his gut and the pumping of his blood didn’t settle during the ceremony. With each smile Lucy favored on Giles, Simon’s pulse quickened and a new sort of jealousy for Giles formed within Simon. Giles knew what he wanted from the moment he arrived at Lucy’s house in Shrewsbury and he’d been persistent about it ever since. Even Giles, who spoke slowly and direct, could discern when his heart had been claimed and didn’t rest until he’d claimed hers as well.
“Repeat after me,” the minister began, turning to Lucy. The way the couple was positioned and from where Simon observed, he hadn’t been able to see Giles’ face for most of the ceremony—only Lucy’s.
She peeked up at her groom from beneath her lashes, a faint blush staining her cheeks and a smile as wide as the Thames on her lips as she repeated her vows to love, honor, and cherish Giles for the remainder of her natural life.
Simon narrowed his eyes on her. She meant those words; there was no doubt about it. She loved Giles more than anyone. He nearly snorted and coughed to cover it up then turned his face away from the questioning eyes that had fastened upon him. One of which were the curious eyes of Seth. Of course.
When Lucy finally finished her vows and the vicar declared her forever attached to Giles, Simon sighed with relief—and then received a sharp look from his mother. He mouthed a quick apology. She didn’t look swayed, but he didn’t give a damn about that right now. He had one mission and it didn’t include offering her an explanation.
Seth, however, couldn’t be ignored so easily.
“Did you eat some bad mushrooms last night, Uncle Simon?” Seth asked as soon as the handful of guests who consisted of his parents and Lord and Lady Belgrave formed a reception line for the bride and groom.
“Well, Seth, I think it’s time to take my own advice.”
Seth’s brows furrowed. “You’ve offered advice?”
Simon curled up his lip and wrinkled his nose. “Yes, to you,” he reminded him. “Not that you took it.”
“Then it must not have been good advice.” The way the corner of Seth’s mouth twitched gave him away.
“It was excellent advice, and you know it,” Simon said, tweaking the boy’s nose. He dropped his hand back to his side and took a deep breath. “Now, I just need to do it.”
“Do what?”
“Ask.”
“Ask who what?”
Simon bit his tongue. For as much as he liked Seth, he wasn’t certain he could be trusted not to blab Simon’s secret to Mother and Father while he stayed with them for a few days after the wedding. An idea formed and he pulled Seth to the side. “Say, how would you like to go on a little adventure with me instead of staying with your new Grandmama and Grandpapa?”
Seth twisted his bottom lip and sank his top teeth into it. “I don’t know. The last time you traveled, I found you bloodied and beaten and had to strip you naked and cover certain areas so Mother wouldn’t be scandalized when she took care of you.”
Simon forced a shrug and a sigh. “Being beaten within inches of your life is just a risk you’ll have to be willing to take to go on a secret adventure.”
Seth pursed and twisted his lips and cast a hesitant look over his left shoulder. “And where is the destination of this adventure?”
“A place every boy your age would love to go and explore. A place called Crumbles.”
20
Just as Simon had predicted, the word “Crumbles” hooked Seth’s interest and didn’t let go.
Fortunately, Seth didn’t blab the details to Giles or Lucy when he bade them farewell. Even more fortunate, he managed to keep his lips closed about their destination when Mother and Father
had questioned them while coming to get Seth’s clothes.
“Perhaps you two should stay in London and have daily adventures,” Mother suggested.
Seth shook his head wildly. “I’ve already seen London. Uncle Simon is taking me on a real adventure.” His eyes lit. “We might even get to see highwaymen!”
Mother paled, and Simon patted Seth’s shoulder and gave his head a little shake to silence anymore nonsense that might be on the verge of tumbling from his lips.
“Simon, I promised his mother I’d keep him safe,” Mother persisted.
“And he will be. I’ll make sure of it.”
“But—” she started again then stopped when Father’s hand found her shoulder.
“Let them go,” Father said in his usual quiet tone. “A boy’s greatest ally is his uncle. Let them have their fun.”
“But what if they get hurt?”
“And what if they don’t?” Father challenged softly. He fixed his eyes on Simon and Seth who stood by the door anxious to leave. “I think the biggest harm will come if we don’t let them go.”
“But I promised his mother,” Mother started again. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to him.”
“Katherine,” Father started, then dropped his voice to a whisper.
The worry in Mother’s eyes stayed, but slowly her jaw went slack. “All right,” she said at last. “But you two will be back before Seth is to be returned to his mother in two days.” She wagged a finger at Simon. “Without a single scratch.”
Simon threw his hands up into the air, palms out. “I promise. The boy shall be returned in museum condition.”
“Good,” Mother chirped. “Because if he’s not, you’ll get to be the one to explain it to his parents.”
“There will be nothing to explain,” Simon said, silently praying he was right, save a betrothal announcement, that is.
Not wanting to risk Mother changing her mind, Simon ushered Seth out to the waiting carriage.
“What’s at Crumbles and how long will it take for us to get there?” Seth asked, making himself comfortable on the velvet bench.
“You’ll see when we get there.”
Seth crossed his arms over his chest. “Now that you’ve trapped a traveling companion, you’re not going to become unfun, are you?”
“I’d remind you that unfun, is not a word, but I don’t want to be seen as an ogre.” Simon put his hands out in front of him. “Care to learn a new game you can teach your papa?”
“A-all right.”
“The name of the game is stone, parchment, shears and you put your hands out like this. Perfect. This is stone, this is shears, and this is parchment.” After showing the different symbols, Simon put his hand back into stone position. “Now, a few rules: stone crushes shears, shears shred parchment, and parchment covers stone.”
“Covers it?”
Simon nodded. “I, too, thought that stone was the ultimate choice because it could fly through a sheet of parchment.”
Seth snorted. “Only if someone stood at the top of the London Tower and dropped it on that fancy parchment everyone uses in London.”
“That’s vellum. It’s animal skin and it certainly could cover a rock. Some of the invitations I’ve received could be used to smother a man.” He scooted up toward the edge of his bench. “All right, you know the outcomes, now let’s play. Bring your hand up like this, hit your palm two times and on the third, show your choice.”
Seth stared blankly at him as if he were still trying to make sense of everything.
“You’ll get it after a few rounds,” Simon encouraged, tapping his fisted hand on his flat hand.
Simon had been right, Seth picked up on the game in a matter of minutes and insisted they play it over and over and over and over and over until at last Simon couldn’t take it another minute.
“Change of plans,” he said to Seth, rapping on the roof of the carriage with his knuckles.
Banes, the coachman, stopped the carriage and pulled the door open. “Sir?”
Simon climbed down from the carriage, grateful for a chance to stretch his legs. Through his excitement to go see Rae at Crumbles, one thing had niggled at him from the back of his mind. “Let’s make a detour.”
The older man’s leathered face scrunched up as he looked up to the sky. Purple, red, and orange streaks filled the lower half of the horizon. “If we stop, we’ll never make it to Crumbles by nightfall.”
“We probably won’t anyway,” Simon said. “But we’ll be close enough.”
Seth’s head emerged from the window. “Where are we going, Uncle Simon?”
“We’re going to stop off at Bedlam,” Simon said easily. “There will be plenty stone, parchment, shears partners for you. You’ll love it.”
“All right,” Seth said happily then pulled himself back into the carriage.
“Bedlam, sir?” Banes questioned.
“The Hughes house,” Simon clarified. “I need to speak to someone there before I find Rae.”
“This is Bedlam?” marveled Seth a short time later as the carriage pulled up in front of Rae’s girlhood home. “It looks more like a shack.”
“It’s Bedlam,” Simon said. “You’ll be captivated by the chaos and deafened by the noise as soon as the front door swings open.” He patted the top of Seth’s head. “I promise.”
Seth grinned wildly. “All right! I knew coming with you would be fun.”
Simon would wager the boy was about to be in for more fun than he could have ever dreamed of. “Seth,” he said as they walked up the dusty path that led to the house. “If you get frightened, just keep in mind if you tell your mama where we’ve been and what you’ve seen, she might become a lot more frightening.”
Elation touched the boy’s feature. “I can’t wait.”
Just then a warlike battle cry rent the air, followed by a series of yelps and screams.
“Sounds like you won’t have to wait any longer,” Simon said to the wide-eyed boy. He cautiously reached his hand forward toward the door. Decorum dictated he should knock, but what was the likelihood they’d even hear it?
Throwing all good breeding and manners to the wind, Simon grasped the doorknob, twisted it, and threw open the door, to reveal a scene even he couldn’t have dreamt up.
In the great parlor room with two aging settees overturned stood four shirtless boys, covered in mud and each yielding a makeshift bow and arrow.
“Welcome to Bedlam,” Simon murmured to Seth.
Seth’s grin widened, if such a thing were possible. “How are you connected to these people?”
“I’m hoping to be connected by marriage,” Simon admitted quietly then laughed at the boy’s unhinged jaw. “Peter, Lucas, Joseph, and Samuel, this is my nephew, Seth. Can you boys play for a few minutes while I talk to your papa?”
Without needing further invitation, Lucas waved Seth over to him and before Seth reached Lucas’ side he was flinging his shirt over the side of the toppled sofa.
Chuckling, Simon made his way out of the room before he got injured. It was astonishing their mother allowed them to play such a game in the house. Then again, with how short and plump she was, how could she possibly stop them?
“Hullo, Simon,” Dara cooed when she spotted him in the hall.
“Dara,” Simon greeted with a low bow. “Jane.”
Jane simply stared at him.
“Is something the matter, Jane?”
“No,” she said at the same time Dara said, “You left without telling her goodbye.”
Simon cringed. He had the oddest feeling she wasn’t the only one who’d be upset about that. “I’m sorry, Jane,” he said, sinking to his haunches. “I made a mistake and I hope you can forgive me.”
Jane sniffed and thrust her hand out toward him.
Dutifully, he kissed it. “Am I forgiven?”
“I suppose,” she said with another sniff. “But I don’t think I can marry you now.”
Simon sorely hoped he
r sister didn’t have the same reaction, not that it was anything less than he deserved. “Hmm, well, what about your sister? Can I marry her then?”
The little girl crossed her arms and took a defensive stance in front of Dara.
“How about Rae?”
Jane pursed her lips. “I suppose so.”
“Hopefully your father does, too.” Simon stood. “Do you lovely young ladies know where I might find him?”
“With Mama in the woodshed,” Jane said, pointing a stubby finger in the general direction of where the woodshed was located.
That explained why the boys were acting like savages in the house, Simon reasoned, walking past said group of savages in search for the door. Whhhhhhr. A stick flew through the air, missing his ear by a mere inch. “Seth,” he warned without looking over his shoulder to verify.
All the boys erupted into laughter, and four more arrows came in his direction. He ducked down then rolled on the floor to dodge them, leading the boys to laugh harder. Holding his hands up to protect his head, he walked on his knees to the door, pulled it open and sighed with relief when he was to the safety of the front porch.
Boys, he thought with a rueful shake of his head. Who would have ever thought the day would come when he found their antics amusing? Rae. She must have known all along such an ability was buried deep inside of him.
And now to claim her.
But first, her father…
Sobering, he took to his feet, brushed off the front of his coat, and began in the direction of the woodshed.
Ten feet separated Simon from the woodshed when the door flung open and a breathless Mrs. Hughes burst out. She skidded to a halt, her hands flying over her chest. “You startled me!”
“And you startled me,” Simon admitted.
Mrs. Hughes blushed and reached her skinny hand up to pat her unkempt hair, creating a more uncomfortable tension around them, her other hand straightening her bodice. It was little wonder that Mrs. Hughes was increasing as often as Rae had described.
As if the situation wasn’t uncomfortable enough, Mr. Hughes poked his greying head out of the open door. “Is something…” He coughed and disappeared from the doorjamb. A moment later he re-emerged, his hands still on his waistband. “Can I help you, Mr. Appleton?”