Her Favorite Duke (The 1797 Club #2)(19)

“I’ve done nothing,” she said, lifting her chin and trying not to think of that kiss with Simon. “We were trapped, that is all. I have done nothing wrong.”

Graham let out a bark of angry laughter. “It doesn’t look that way to me. It looks like you opened your—”

Now it was Simon who lunged from behind her. “You shut your goddamned mouth and have some respect!” he shouted, his hand coming to settle on Meg’s back.

She appreciated the protection, but since every single man in the room tracked the inappropriate movement of his hand, it didn’t help their situation.

James stepped forward, catching Graham’s arms as Meg pushed back at Simon to hold him from the fight. “Enough!” James snapped, his sharp tone silencing the room. He shoved Graham toward Baxton. “Get him out of here. You two ride back to the estate and I will deal with you there.”

Graham shook his head. “There is no dealing, James. Is there? Is there, Simon?”

James glared at him and sent a side glance to Baxton, who was barely containing his grin of glee at the drama unfolding. Meg held back a sob. What a tale he would have to tell.

“Go. Back. Home,” James said.

Baxton at last took Graham’s arm and tugged him out the door, with Graham sending looks of pure rage at Simon the entire time. Once they had left, James slammed the door behind them and turned to Simon and Meg.

Meg had seen her brother through many a troubling scenario. Through their father’s abuse and neglect, through their mother’s many outbursts when she was drunk, through his courtship with Emma, which had not been entirely smooth. Today, looking at her, he had an expression she had never seen before. There was tension on his face, worry, anger and a touch of what she knew was disappointment.

She had disappointed him, and that cut her all the way down through her heart. She turned away from it, blinking at the tears that rushed to her eyes.

“Go into the bedroom and get dressed, Meg,” James said softly. “Simon will do the same out here.”

Simon cleared his throat. “Er, my clothes are in the other room.”

James jerked his face toward Simon, and the disappointment Meg had seen directed at her was tripled for him. “Of course they are,” James growled. “Margaret, bring the Duke of Crestwood’s things to me and I will deliver them. Then get dressed in the bedroom. Please.”

“Yes, Jamie,” Meg whispered, reverting to her childhood nickname for him in the hopes it would soften him to her.

He said nothing as she entered the room and caught up all of Simon’s clothing. She brought them back and handed them over to James. He touched her hand once he held everything, then wordlessly leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

“Can you manage?”

She nodded and looked over his shoulder one last time at Simon. He was staring at her, his expression filled with guilt and regret. Regret over what they’d shared. She supposed she should feel the same, considering what their actions had now wrought.

But she didn’t. And seeing those emotions on his face broke her heart anew. Slowly, she closed the door and covered her face. Her entire world had just broken. It was very likely nothing could fix any of it.





James threw the clothing and Simon barely caught it as it hit his chest with enough force that it nearly took the air out of him. They stood there, staring at each other for a long moment before the silence was broken by the sound of three gunshots in the distance.

“What was that?” Simon asked.

James shook his head, his dark eyes snapping with emotion. “That is Baxton firing off shots to tell all the others searching for you that you and Meg have been found safe.”

Simon swallowed. “All the others?”

“Yes. All our friends and most of the other men in our party spread out all over the estate at dawn this morning, hoping to find you and my sister alive.”

Simon bent his head, trying not to think about the frantic, terrible night James must have endured. The love he felt for his sister was deep and strong after the childhood they had gone through together. Even a hint that she might be lost to him must have choked James with fear.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking, Simon?” James hissed.

Simon sighed as he tugged his trousers on and let the blanket fall away at last. He shook out his shirt as he pondered the right answer to the question. The truth seemed the only way out.

But not all of it.

“I wasn’t thinking at all,” he admitted. “I saw Meg sneak away from the party. She was obviously upset about something, so I followed her.”

“That wasn’t your place,” James ground out.

Simon hesitated. No, it was not. And he’d known it when he did it. He’d gone anyway. And he hadn’t stopped her until they were far away from the house, until the storm was looming…perhaps there was part of him that had orchestrated all this.

Which made it all the worse.

“I-I wasn’t lying when I said we got caught out in the storm. Nor was she lying when she told you that nothing…nothing happened between us.”

His mind ripped him back to that kiss in the bed. To her soft, naked body trapped against his as she sighed and moaned into his mouth. That moment when he had almost lost control and driven himself into her so no one else could ever lay claim to her.