by Gayle Callen
“Paul?” Simon said in surprise, then felt a growing worry. “This is a public place, and he’s always considered her a little sister.”
“Simon, I’ve tried to tell you that things have changed. Oh dear.”
“Now what?” he demanded, exasperated.
“She’s run away and left him there alone. She looks distressed, and he looks confused. If only she could tell me what is wrong!”
Simon was the confused one.
After an hour of casual conversation with neighbors, Simon was surprised when Louisa told him that Paul Reyburn was approaching.
“Miss Shelby,” Paul said, “would you mind if I speak to Simon for a moment?”
She released her hold, and Simon missed her already.
“Of course, Mr. Reyburn,” she said. “All this talking leaves one very thirsty.”
Simon put his hand on Paul’s shoulder and let himself be led through the crowd.
When Paul finally stopped, Simon said, “So where are we?”
“There isn’t anywhere else to go, so I’ve picked the quietest corner of the assembly room.”
Simon raised his voice over the small orchestra. “Quiet?”
“Private anyway.”
“Is something wrong, Paul?”
“I’m worried about Georgie.”
Simon stiffened. “Don’t tell me Keane is here.”
“Nothing like that. She’s just…ignoring me.”
“Ignoring you? She’s always treated you the same as she’d treat any member of the family. But of course, now you’ve kissed her hand.”
“You saw that?”
Simon laughed. “No, but everyone else here did.”
“Damn. But that doesn’t seem enough reason for her to be angry. Embarrassed, maybe, but she seemed upset with me. Could there be another man whose attentions she wishes to attract?”
“I don’t know what to say, Paul. I don’t think there’s a particular man she’s trying to impress. She’s not very good at these social things.”
“Well, who would be, next to you and Leo?”
Simon appreciated that Paul discounted his blindness, but his ease in Society was long gone.
“So may I visit her tomorrow?” Paul continued.
“Are you asking my permission?” Simon asked slowly.
“I never thought I needed to.”
Paul sounded baffled, and Simon felt the same way. What was going on?
“Visit whenever you’d like,” Simon said.
The next afternoon, Paul did indeed come to visit, although it was to Simon’s study that he came first. The butler announced him and departed, along with the secretary who’d been transcribing a letter. Simon waited with his hands folded in his lap.
When Paul said nothing, Simon finally said, “I thought you were coming to visit Georgie.”
“I am. But I thought you should come in with me.”
“Don’t worry—we won’t leave you unchaperoned with her.”
Paul made a disgusted sound. “But I always used to be able to talk freely to her. What happened?”
“You kissed her hand.”
“But—”
“Louisa and my grandmother are with her. Go pay your respects.”
Paul grumbled something as he left the room, and Simon found himself curious enough that he couldn’t concentrate. Paul and Georgie? That didn’t make sense. She had known him as a friend her whole life. She hadn’t even given herself a chance to consider another man.
He walked out into the corridor and only took a few steps when he heard, “Hello, Simon.”
Louisa’s voice could always make him smile. “Hello. Is Grandmama still with Georgie and Paul?”
“They all went to the library together, and now she’s waiting inside while they walk the conservatory.”
“Let’s you and I look in on the conservatory, too.”
“Simon,” she said in a warning voice.
“I’m Georgie’s brother. I want to know what’s going on.”
“Would you like people watching you and me?”
“They would get quite an eyeful, would they not?”
She groaned.
“There’s a little balcony overlooking the conservatory from the first floor.”
“So you want me to narrate everything for you.”
“Not everything. I just want to know that she’s comfortable.”
When they reached the balcony, Simon remained just inside, while Louisa peered over the balustrade. The humid warmth of the indoor garden was more intense here, the scents more potent.
“They’re standing still, talking,” she whispered. “No, Paul is talking, and Georgie is keeping her head down, listening.”
“Georgie always talks to Paul,” he whispered back. “Maybe she really is bothered by the hand kissing. Maybe she doesn’t think of him like that.”
“Simon, you’re playing the protective big brother again. I know you always want to rescue her, but you can’t this time. Oh dear.”
“Louisa—”
”He’s leaving and he doesn’t look happy. Do you mind if I go to her?”
“Of course not.”
When she was gone, Simon made his way back downstairs and to the library. No one spoke to him, so his grandmother must have gone somewhere else. He walked to the conservatory, wanting to help.
He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when he reached the door, he heard Georgie speaking in a forlorn voice.
“I shouldn’t see him again. He wants more from me, and I’m hopeless.”
Simon rubbed his hand down his face in frustration. Louisa had worked tirelessly with Georgie—why was she not more confident?
“Why do you feel this way now?” Louisa asked. “You and Paul always did well together.”
“But that was…before. When I was just a friend and not a woman. I don’t make a good woman.”
Simon gritted his teeth together, wanting to help somehow, but he just…waited.
“Why ever would you say that, Georgie?” Louisa asked with gentleness. “Surely you’ve seen how successful these last few parties have been. Men have wanted to dance with you, talk with you.”
“But shouldn’t it be easier? It always is for my brothers, for my mother.”
“And you want to be like her?”
“No!” Georgie said vehemently. “I know I can’t be a woman like her.”
Simon leaned his head back against the wall, full of sorrow.
“Did your mother tell you that?” Louisa continued.
Georgie drew in a breath, and Simon wondered if she were crying.
“Yes, but I didn’t think I had listened,” Georgie said with a sad laugh. “I thought I didn’t care. But now when I stand there between Simon and Leo, I feel like…nothing.”
“You mean ‘nothing ’in other people’s eyes—or your mother’s eyes?”
Georgie remained silent.
“Perhaps your mother didn’t know how to show you understanding or compassion as a little girl, so you grew up thinking you had to do whatever you could to please her.”
“And I never could,” Georgie whispered.
“And you still think you have to please everyone, that it matters how you compare to Simon and Leo. The people who truly love you don’t care that you might not be the best at everything you do. So should you care so much what acquaintances think?”
There was a long silence before Georgie spoke. “I hadn’t thought I cared so much about making a good impression on people.”
Simon went back to his study and shut the door behind him. Was that also his legacy from his mother, caring too much about what people thought, how they viewed him? He’d thought he’d retired his need to be ”the entertainer.” But he’d spent his life trying to amuse his parents, keep everyone happy, and even blind, he’d continued in that pattern. That need to please just didn’t go away. Inflicting his blindness on people, making them uneasy, was something he hadn’t wanted to do. So he’d retreated, not w
anting people—besides family—to see him stumble, to see him eat, to see him dance. Just like Georgie, he’d been pleasing everyone else before himself.
And before Louisa had come, he would have let Georgie continue on in error, trying to please him with her assistance. He’d become like Leo—good at getting people to help him so he never had to ask. He was angry with himself, worried for Georgie—and relieved that he’d discovered the truth, all at the same time.
All because of Louisa.
And when Georgie didn’t need her anymore, Louisa would leave.
He tried to imagine his life without her, and it seemed an even darker place. But how could he ask her to stay, to join him in this darkness, when she deserved so much more?
Chapter 20
Over the next several days, Mr. Reyburn called on Georgie regularly, and Louisa was quietly thrilled. After the first awkward day, Georgie seemed to become more confident by the hour. The couple could often be found walking in the garden, or riding through the countryside, an inconspicuous groom trailing behind them. Louisa would have thought Simon would be pleased with this, but he seemed thoughtful around the young couple, and Louisa wondered if he was concealing his disapproval. Why would he disapprove of his own friend calling on his sister?
She couldn’t ask him what he thought, because he didn’t come to her room at night anymore. And there always seemed to be someone with him during the day. She would have despaired of his interest, if he didn’t seem to be so focused on her whenever they were in the same room together. Once or twice Georgie nodded toward Simon while giving Louisa an encouraging look. What did she expect Louisa to do—pay him special attention in an obvious manner? Perhaps that would even drive him away.
But she had to know what he was thinking. For the fourth night in a row, she lay in bed wide awake, frustrated with their relationship, unable to sleep.
If Simon wasn’t going to come to her, she would go to him.
After wrapping her dressing gown over her nightdress, she stepped outside onto the dark balcony. Rain was falling in soft waves that soaked into her loose hair. There was no moon tonight, so instead of running she had to follow the building.
But she knew which room was Simon’s. She tried the door and found it unlocked. Slipping inside, she put her back to the door and just breathed heavily. It was as dark inside as it was outside and she felt vulnerable, hesitant, even foolish.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
She gasped, because she hadn’t heard him, hadn’t sensed him. But he was before her, looming over her. She was aware of him in the darkness as he was of her. The heat of him was a solid wall she wanted to lean into, to surround herself with. Instead she shivered and waited, alone.
“You didn’t come to me,” she whispered.
“Let us not pretend anymore, Louisa. I can’t be alone with you, because I don’t want to be a gentleman when I am. I want to touch you.”
She felt his fingers in her hair, pushing the damp locks off her shoulder.
“I want to taste you.”
In the darkness, she felt a stir of movement a moment before his hair brushed against her face. She tilted her head as he pressed his mouth below her ear, then licked a tantalizing path down her neck. She groaned, reaching for him, but he held her hands away.
“I want you in my bed, Louisa.” He spoke the words against the hollow of her throat. “I have no defenses left against you.”
She was helpless against the need they both shared. Could he be falling in love with her and not know it? But regardless of her reputation, she was inexperienced in the ways of men. She knew a man did not have to be in love to desire a woman.
But was it worth the risk to discover the truth?
A knock sounded on his door, and he suddenly backed away from her. She held her breath in panic. Much as she wanted to explore Simon’s feelings for her, she didn’t want him trapped in a marriage he hadn’t planned.
“Simon?” It was Mr. Wade. “I just returned from Paul’s. Let me in.”
She fumbled for the door handle behind her. Simon brushed her aside and opened it for her.
“Don’t come back, Louisa,” he whispered. “You can do better than me.”
By the time she ran down the balcony, she was soaked to the skin, chilled—and very angry. How dare he think that his blindness should be a reason to deny her feelings for him!
She wasn’t going to avoid him; she wasn’t going to find someone else. She had met many men, and none had ever made her feel like Simon did. If he wanted her, however briefly, she would take those moments of happiness and make no demands.
It was time she took the risk of loving Simon.
The next day, she kept a close eye on Simon’s activities, and when she saw him head down to the lake with Manvil, she followed. She waited until Simon was already seated in the boat before she called the valet’s name.
“Yes, Miss Shelby?”
“You’re needed up at the house, Manvil,” she said. “I can navigate.”
“Manvil—” Simon began ominously.
The valet only glanced at his master with a grin on his face. “You heard Miss Shelby, my lord. The housekeeper must need me.”
Whistling, he walked away from them. Louisa untied the rope and climbed down into the boat. It rocked beneath her weight, so she settled herself carefully.
“So who needed Manvil more than I did?” Simon asked doubtfully.
“No one. I lied.” She kept her voice cheerful. “Go ahead—row.”
With the oar, he pushed away from the pier and began to row in slow, even strokes. She settled back to enjoy the view of Simon. She let her feet rest between his spread feet. Though he had to feel the spill of her skirts, he said nothing, his jaw set.
Just let him try to ignore her, try to ignore the awareness they’d both known of since their reacquaintance a month ago. She put up her umbrella and began to hum.
Simon broke first. “I’ve given the order to have the railings installed. It is a good idea, and I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” She kept her voice soft, intimate.
The boat was veering to the east, where the lake narrowed and curved away toward a copse of trees that hung over the water’s edge. Louisa didn’t bother to correct his course.
Simon was rowing harder now, faster, as if he was in a race. She wondered with amusement if he was trying to get away from her.
He couldn’t make everything go away by ignoring her, and if she had to teach him that, so be it.
“I was thinking about having a dinner party,” he said stiffly.
“Lovely.” And it was a step forward for him to consider eating among people, but right now, he was just trying to distract them both. She trailed her fingers in the water, then flicked droplets at him.
He blinked when they hit his face. “Very funny.”
Laughing, she leaned back on one hand, letting her foot brush against his.
He inhaled, but said nothing. The pace of his rowing said it all.
“What do you think about Paul and Georgie?” he asked.
She sensed his relief at having found a topic.
“I think it could turn out well,” she answered, still trailing her foot along his. “If she becomes too busy to assist you in the mornings, you know that I will.”
“Be careful, Louisa,” he said softly. “I can be selfish. I’ve been selfish with Georgie.”
“It’s not selfish if she wants to help you.”
He stopped rowing, then reached down and grabbed her wandering foot. She didn’t try to pull away.
“Is that what you want, Louisa—to help me?”
“If you’re asking if I pity you, that is the most ridiculous—”
But he suddenly stiffened and cocked his head. “You never corrected my course once. I always pull to my left.”
“I know,” she answered, distracted by his hand surrounding her foot. “I’ve never come to this part of the lake, and the trees are quite beauti
ful near the bank.”
“Trees!” He shouted the word, dropping her foot, and in that moment, the boat hit something submerged in the water.
Surprised, she fell forward and caught herself on his thighs. She looked up into his face.
He pushed her back to her own seat. “Are we taking on water?” he demanded.
She looked behind him and saw that the wood of the floor was cracked and raised up. Water seeped in.
“Yes. Oh, I’m so sorry, Simon.”
“It’s my fault,” he said shortly. “I never told you about the submerged trees in this part of the lake. How far are we from shore?”
“Not far.” She blushed. “I was enjoying the view of the trees hanging over the water.” And her view of him. She wasn’t worried—surely she could swim if she had to.
“Is the hole small enough to cover with your hand?” he asked.
“It’s pretty jagged, but I can try.”
“Then I’ll keep rowing. Do you see anyone?”
From beneath her bonnet brim, she searched for signs of life, but they were totally alone. “There’s no one, Simon.”
He leaned to the side while she stood up. The boat rocked wildly, and she grabbed his shoulder. Carefully she stepped into the bow to kneel down. Three inches of water already filled the bottom, soaking into her skirts. Using her umbrella, she tried to push the damaged pieces of wood back in place, but they broke off completely, leaving an even larger hole.
“Simon,” she began hesitantly.
“My boots are already wet,” he said with a sigh. “The water is coming in too fast for me to row to shore.”
She told herself the chill of foreboding she felt was silly. “We’re not that far. I can swim.” Once again she used his shoulder for leverage as she moved past him.
“Your heavy clothes will be a problem, but I’m a good swimmer. I can help.”
She bit her lip and looked toward shore. “It really isn’t far.”
“I’ll row as far as I can. It’s too bad there isn’t a bucket to bail with.”
“I’ll use my umbrella!”
“You can try. But first, remove as many petticoats as you can.”
She stared at him. “What?”