by Rose Gordon
Simon darted his gaze between Mr. and Mrs. Hughes. “I was hoping to talk to you, sir.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”
“Privately,” Simon clarified.
Mr. Hughes’ face hardened. “If this is about Henrietta, you need to talk to Drake.”
“She is your daughter, is she not?” Simon asked.
“Yes.” Mr. Hughes’ lips thinned into a tight line. “He’s her acting guardian.”
Simon raked a hand through his hair. The man wasn’t going to make this easy, was he? “I understand that, sir. I also understand why you might have thought he was suited for the role. However, she is still your daughter and as such, I’d like to ask your permission to ask for her hand.”
Mr. Hughes stared at Simon stoically. “Have you spoken to Drake?”
“No.” Did the man not care he had a say in his daughter’s future? “I wanted to ask you.” He held the older man’s gaze. “Her father.”
“You didn’t need to.” The sour turn of his lips spoke far more than his voice.
“I know,” Simon admitted. “I wanted to.”
Mr. Hughes scrubbed his hands over his face. “Son, do you…” He trailed off, scratching his jaw.
“Yes.” Simon swallowed. “I know everything I need to know.”
Rae’s father nodded once. “Do you…er…” He scuffed the dirt with the toe of his boot. “This isn’t some sort of sophisticated arrangement, is it?”
“No. My intentions are honorable.”
Relief flickered over Mr. Hughes face, replaced quickly by a hard, hesitant look. “Are you sure you know all you need to?”
“Yes.” Simon didn’t mean his response to come out so cold and sharp, but it was clear Mr. Hughes didn’t believe him. “I don’t care about her past. I’m only interested in her future, and as long as it’s with me, I’ll treat her right and be the best husband I can be to her.”
For the first time since they’d met, a smile spread across Mr. Hughes’ tanned face. “Well then, as long as she wants to marry you, you have my blessing.”
21
Rae ran her ungloved hand around the top edge of the hearth in the drawing room. “Must I return to London?” she asked her sister. Truly, that was the last place she wanted to go. All right, not the last. The last would be back to Mr. Fisher’s, but London was a close second.
Juliet set her teacup on its saucer with a soft clink. “I think it’d do you some good.”
Rae frowned at her sister then sent a pleading glance to Drake who sat beside his wife, seemingly content not to join the conversation. “Your matchmaking won’t work.” Rae lowered herself to the settee. “He isn’t interested.”
“Poppycock,” Juliet said with a wave of her hand—a phrase and a gesture that she’d recently adopted and employed every time Simon was mentioned directly or indirectly. Likely, Juliet knew just how much it grated on Rae’s nerves and as any good older sister, that’s why she kept doing it.
“Oh, then do the two of you plan to do something indecent and need me packed away?” Rae challenged sarcastically. Truth was, Juliet and Drake weren’t the indecent sort, however, they made no move to cover up their love for one another nor that they shared a bedchamber every night.
“I like your suggestion,” Drake drawled, his eyes slowly traveling down his wife’s form. He nodded with approval. “How soon can her things be loaded, Juliet?”
Juliet swatted his shoulder. “It’s too late to send her tonight, you fiend. It’s already dark.” She snuggled closer to her husband. “Perhaps at sunup.”
Rae scowled. “Juliet, please, see reason and let me be. I’ve gone to London for three Seasons and still no betrothal contract. I don’t want to go back.”
“Can I go in her stead?” asked twelve-year-old Celia, who’d been content to drink tea and eat treats in silence until now.
“Absolutely not!” Drake said, frowning. “You’re far too young to even be thinking about marriage.”
“Oh, Papa, even I dream about marriage,” Kate, said, a wistful expression on her face.
Helena, who was barely ten, nodded, the same wistful expression on her face.
Drake’s face darkened and he scowled at the pair. “Juliet,” he said between his clenched teeth.
Juliet patted his knee then interlaced her fingers with his. “Girls spin dreams of marriage. It’s what we do.”
Rae snorted. “Not this one.”
“You most certainly did when you were their ages,” Juliet corrected.
“Well, I have no grand disillusion that I’d like the institution now and I have no desire to go back to London to join the husband hunt.”
“And there’s no reason for you to,” came a soft baritone from the door.
All eyes shot to the owner of that voice: Simon. He wore a black, crumpled coat and breeches, a gold waistcoat, a white shirt, and a sad, floppy cravat. Beside him stood a boy Rae had never seen before.
“Mr. Appleton.” Juliet smiled to try to cover the shock on her face. “To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?”
“Would it be all right if I speak to Rae?” Though his question was meant for Juliet and Drake, his eyes were locked with Rae’s.
“Of course.” Drake made a sweeping motion toward the middle of the room with his open hand.
“Alone.”
Juliet was off her bottom in less than a heartbeat. Drake was not. His large, tanned hand reached for his wife, staying her. “No.”
Simon swung his gaze to him. “My intentions are honorable.”
Rae couldn’t say why, but his words irritated her. Did he think he could just waltz into her sister’s drawing room after leaving abruptly almost a week before and suddenly everything would be all right between them and she’d be ecstatic that he’d just declared to Drake that his intentions were honorable? She mouthed a quick, thank you to Drake, suddenly not wanting anyone to leave.
“You had something to say, did you not?” Drake asked, piercing Simon with his steely blue eyes.
Simon shifted uncomfortably.
“He wants to ask you to marry him,” announced the young man standing at Simon’s side.
“Seth,” Simon hissed, his face turning a dark red.
The boy, Seth, shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
“And do you always speak the truth, young man?” Juliet asked, her lips twitching.
Seth, who wore clothes as crumpled as Simon’s, puffed out his chest. “Of course I do. What would you like to know?”
“What do you want to share?” Juliet asked.
“That might not be a good question to ask, Lady Drakely.” Simon clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Seth here is like a volcano, once he starts chatting, he won’t stop.”
“I think I’ve found a new friend.” Juliet patted a small space on the settee next to her.
Rae wanted to roll her eyes. She refrained.
“All right, young man, tell me everything you know, and I’ll ring for you as many treats as you think you can eat,” Juliet said.
From the corner of her eye, Rae noticed that a bead of sweat had formed on Simon’s forehead. She’d feel compassion for him for what Juliet was about to put him through, and yet… He’d left her without so much of a word of explanation or a promise to return. He’d hurt her, cut right through her. And while she might love him, seeing him just now didn’t magically make everything that had happened dissolve.
Love?
The blood drained from her face. Did she love Simon? She must or his absence wouldn’t have been so devastating to her.
She pushed the notion from her mind and forced all of her attention on Seth.
“Well…” The nervous young lad licked his lips then threw a glance over his shoulder to look at Simon. “Er… Perhaps that’s not a good idea.” He dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “My mama doesn't know I’ve come here so she won’t know where to look for my body.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Simon burst out
. “I promised I’d return you safely and I will. Besides, you’re not the one I’m inclined to throttle at the moment.”
“Oh, dear, that wouldn’t be me, would it?” Juliet asked in mock innocence, bringing her hand up to her chest.
“No. It’s the beast you’ve shackled yourself to for the rest of your natural life.”
Drake’s only response was to grin like a simpleton as Seth blurted out his explanation.
“There’s really nothing more to tell, ma’am,” Seth said. “Uncle Simon—” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of where Simon was still standing in the doorway— “wants to propose to someone named Henny.” He looked over at Rae who was trying in vain to make sense of why on earth he’d just referred to her as Henny! “I’m supposing that’s her.” He shrugged. “He needs to ask her and quick,” Seth continued, biting his lip. “He’s been looking real sick the past few days—and not the way that Mr. Sweet looks when he has a cold and his nose turns red and his eyes swell up the size of pastries. No, he looks more like Mrs. Finch, who just happened to be spawning, did when she was told Mr. Finch went—”
“Seth, that’s quite enough,” Simon hissed.
“No, leave him be,” Drake said. “I’m quite interested in the rest of this description.”
“Well, Mr. Finch went home with a barmaid and—”
“On second thought, I think your Uncle Simon might have been right,” Drake said, then cast an uneasy look at his three girls who were listening to Seth’s story with rapt attention. Or perhaps they were just staring at Seth with their hearts in their eyes.
Seth shrugged again. “The man looks positively ill. Why, just look at him.” He gestured to Simon and all eyes went to him. “He’s been green all week.”
“All week,” Rae whispered before she could stop herself.
“All week,” Seth confirmed. The boy looked like he was about to burst with mirth. Simon, meanwhile, looked as if he were about to burst with something else. Embarrassment? Rage, perhaps? No, that couldn’t be; he wasn’t one to be prone to fits of rage.
“All right, I think you’ve earned your dessert,” Juliet said then turned to her husband. “And I think Simon has earned the right to speak to Henrietta without an audience.”
Rae wasn’t sure how she felt about being left alone with Simon, but it seemed as if the circumstance could not be avoided.
Drake, the girls, Seth, and Juliet each walked out without so much as a word to either Rae or Simon. (Although, the look on Juliet’s face spoke volumes.) Drake, however, grumbled something about being banished from his own drawing room, lingered at the door and exchanged a look with Simon that Rae couldn’t see.
Presumably deciding Drake was taking too long to leave, Juliet reached her slim hand back into the room and took hold of her husband’s wrist and gave him a little tug.
Drake grumbled a little more than lumbered from the room.
As soon as his form had crossed the threshold, Simon closed the door.
Rae ran her clammy palms over her skirts and stared at him.
He returned her stare and made no move to get closer to her.
Now that they were alone, Simon didn’t know what to say to her. “That wasn’t the proposal you deserved,” he said at last. “I’m sorry about that.”
Rae shrugged. “It wasn’t a proposal at all.”
“No,” Simon allowed, a small measure of hope welling up in his chest. Instinctively, Simon closed the gap between them and reached for her hands. “Rae, will you—”
“No.”
All the air in Simon’s lungs left his body in one swift whoosh and if felt as if she’d shot him in the heart with an arrow. Dropping his hands, Simon took a step back. He hadn’t prepared for a no and didn’t know what to do or say now.
“I would have said yes on Saturday.” The waiver in Rae’s voice grabbed his attention—and his heart.
“I’m sorry,” Simon admitted. “I shouldn’t have left. I-I…” He swallowed uncomfortably. “I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to stay, but I needed some time to make sense of it all.”
“Make sense of it what?” She blinked her red-rimmed eyes.
“Us. This.” He made a vague gesture around the room. “All of it.” Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair once more. “After the catastrophe with Isabelle, and then the misunderstanding with Lucy, the last thing I wanted to do was become entangled with another young lady and create more fodder for gossip. So when my heart started beating outside of my own chest and walking around in your reticule, I had to get away. You didn’t deserve the gossip and stigma that would have come with being the third young lady this Season I’d formed an attachment to—even if it was genuine this time.”
“Wasn’t that for me to decide?”
“Yes,” he said with another swallow. “I just—”
“Assumed you knew best,” she finished for him challenge and fire swirling in her blue eyes.
“Not exactly.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “At first, I didn’t fully recognize my feelings for what they were.”
At that, Rae did the most unexpected thing: she dropped her head into her hands and started shaking uncontrollably then said something Simon didn’t understand about Juliet.
Without thought or hesitation, Simon closed the gap between them and wrapped her in his arms. “Shhhh,” he crooned.
Rae dropped her hands and lifted her chin, tears coursed down her red face.
Simon ached to dry them.
“I’m laughing!” She swiped at the tears on her cheeks then dissolved into another fit of laughter.
Still holding onto her, Simon asked, “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing you’d understand,” she said dismissively. “It’s something my sister said.”
“It’s probably best you don’t share that with me, then.”
“I wasn’t going to.” Her pert response made him want to pull her closer, which of course pressed her pert breasts up against his chest, effectively depleting him of every ounce of humor whatsoever.
“Rae, please forgive me. I shouldn’t have left like that. I struggled with it then and so many times I wanted to turn back, but I didn’t want to hurt you, so I pressed forward.”
“Leaving hurt me,” she whispered, her hands still at her sides.
“I know and I’m so very sorry.” He brushed a kiss above her eyebrow. “Please forgive me and give me a chance to make it right.”
“Make it right?’
Simon nodded.
“And how do you plan to do that?”
“By proving to you just how much I love you each day for the rest of my life.”
“Y-you love me?” she stammered, her eyes searching his.
“Yes, and I think everyone but you already knew that.” He snorted. “Even your father.”
“My father?”
Simon nodded. “I spoke to him an hour ago.”
“You did?” Her shock made the uncomfortable conversation with Mr. Hughes worth every second. “That’s why Seth called me Henny.”
Cringing, Simon nodded. “My apologies. I’ll set him right when we get back into the carriage.”
“Thank you for asking him,” she said softly.
“You don’t need to thank me. I did it because I wanted to get his blessing to ask to marry you.” A smile pulled on his lips. “Which I still haven’t done,” he mused. “Seth declared my intentions with his grand announcement then when I went to ask, you said no before I finished.”
Rae lowered her lashes and brought her arms up around him. “I’m sorry about that,” she whispered. “I wasn’t ready then. But—” she met his eyes again— “I think if you ask again, you’ll hear a different answer.
22
Rae stared at Simon, the man never ceased to stun her.
“You have to leave today?” she asked the next morning in disbelief.
Simon nodded once. “Seth’s mama doesn’t know he’s come on this adventure, and I
need to have him back by tomorrow when she and Giles are expecting his return.”
Rae was torn between laughing and crying. Instead, she grinned and was touched. Knowing Simon had been desperate enough to come see her with such a small window of opportunity, made his visit that much more romantic.
“Before you go, we need to discuss a few wedding details,” Juliet said. She walked over to the little oak secretary in the corner of the room and withdrew a quill, a little stack of paper, and a calendar. “First thing we need to settle on is a date.”
Rae ground her teeth. “How about Scotland on Wednesday?” she suggested airily.
“Perfect,” Simon said at the same time Juliet said, “Absolutely not.”
Juliet narrowed her eyes on the pair of them sitting on the settee. “You two will not be making a trip to Gretna Green.”
“And are you planning to tie us to our beds to ensure we don’t?” Rae asked her sister.
Juliet smiled smugly. “Never underestimate the will of an older sister.”
Despite herself, Rae laughed. Juliet would never admit such, but planning Rae’s wedding was just as much for Juliet as it was for Rae. Juliet hadn’t had a word of input about anything from the date she married…or who she married.
“All right, we will get married here,” Rae allowed.
Juliet’s face brightened. “Thank you,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to marry here, but I am honored.”
Rae didn’t know why Juliet would think she wouldn’t want to have her wedding at Juliet’s home, but she couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather have it.
“Now for a date,” Juliet chirped.
“It takes two weeks to cry the Banns,” Drake reminded them.
Juliet started. “Two weeks isn’t enough time to plan the wedding of the Season. How about next April.”
“Next April,” both Rae and Simon said in unison. It was bad enough that Simon would have to leave for London in another hour at the latest, asking them to spend almost a year apart would be maddening!