Her Favorite Duke (The 1797 Club #2)(23)

“Come in,” Simon said when Graham didn’t move.

Graham’s eyebrow arched. “Inviting me inside like nothing happened?”

Simon drew a sharp breath at the cold, hard quality of Graham’s tone. He fought to keep his own neutral. “No, there’s no way I can look into the mirror and not know what happened earlier.”

“You want me to apologize for breaking your pretty face?” Graham drawled.

“No. I want you to come inside because there are likely a dozen listening ears in the hallway,” Simon said through clenched teeth. “And I think whatever you have to say requires privacy.”

“Privacy. Yes, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? What you did last night with my fiancée required privacy, didn’t it? And you bloody well arranged a situation where you’d have it,” Graham hissed as he came inside the room and slammed the door behind him, hard enough that one of the portraits on the wall fell clattering to the wooden floor.

Neither man moved to retrieve it, but they stood staring at each other. Simon struggled to find words to say to Graham, but it was almost impossible. His friend’s words were true, at least to some extent. Simon hated himself for it.

“You’re angry, Graham,” Simon said softly. “And you have every right to be. I’m not making excuses for what I did last night. For what you stumbled upon this morning.”

Graham laughed, but it was a hard, angry sound that crackled through the room. “But?”

Simon clenched his fists at his sides. “Nothing happened,” he said. “Nothing happened. You must know me well enough to trust me when I tell you that, looking into your eyes.”

Graham shook his head slowly. “I think it may be that I didn’t know you at all. Nor her, it seems.”

Simon stiffened. “If you want to be angry at me, slander me, go ahead. I deserve it, I can take it. But stop including her in this. Meg was not at fault.”

“You two,” Graham breathed. “Always thick as thieves. Always turning toward each other, whispering and giggling, dancing.”

Simon clenched his jaw. “You don’t like to dance, Meg does. It’s the only reason—”

“Clearly not the only reason,” Graham interrupted.

Simon bent his head. “I suppose not.”

“James came in to talk to me. To say that you two needed to tidy up after your dirty little night together and that I had to wait for my satisfaction. He’s trying to make me feel better, you see, by telling me he believes there have been feelings between you for years.”

Simon flinched. “I wish he had let me tell you that myself. And why aren’t you still with him? I can’t imagine he sent you up here to have this conversation while you’re in this mindset.”

“He didn’t,” Graham conceded. “He went to talk to Baxton. Apparently the viscount is spreading the story around the entire party. I don’t know why James is bothering to put a stop to him. Once Baxton said that kind of gossip out loud, there was no way it wasn’t going to spread like wildfire.”

“No,” Simon whispered, hating himself. “It’s too good.”

Graham tilted his head and looked at Simon closer. “It is, isn’t it? After all, how often do two dukes, friends since they were children, fight over another duke’s sister? How often does one of those dukes and said sister slide behind the other’s back and…what did you tell me? Do nothing together. Do nothing while naked.”

Simon gritted his teeth harder. Graham was spoiling for a fight and he was baiting Simon now, saying everything he could to make Simon start it. And it was working, for Simon was starting to want nothing more than to return the punch that had broken his nose earlier.

“Stop, please,” he whispered.

Graham shook his head. “Did you laugh at me while you did nothing with my fiancée? Were you planning on telling me all along, bragging like you used to do with all the women you fucked over the years? Or were you two going to keep it quiet, let her marry me and just continue to carry on behind my back?”

Simon lunged then, pushed to his limit and beyond. He caught Graham’s lapels and slammed him back, smashing him against the wall with all his strength.

“I would never have done that, goddamn it, Graham. You should know better. I was going to leave. Roseford and I were leaving in a day or two, out of the country, and I wasn’t going to come back, not until after you were married. What happened last night wasn’t some way to get over on you.”

“Even though you have feelings for her?” Graham asked, not fighting Simon’s grip. Not moving at all except to look down at him, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“Yes,” Simon whispered. “Yes, I have feelings for her. I have had feelings for her for almost a decade. And I never acted on them, I never acted on them once, because of you. But you can’t act like you care this much, damn you. You don’t want her, you never did. And here I was, dying inside knowing that she would be yours. That you would one day touch her like I wanted to, that you would one day have children with her that I would have to look at, see her eyes and your hair. You didn’t want her, Graham. And I did.”

“My problem isn’t that you wanted her,” Graham growled. “My problem is that if you’d told me a year ago or five years ago, I would have stepped aside and wished you nothing but happiness. But you didn’t tell me. You let it fester, you let it change our friendship over the past half a decade. A friendship that you claim means so much to you. And then you reached out and you stole her from me in the most public way you could muster.”