Her Favorite Duke (The 1797 Club #2)(24)

Simon drew back, releasing Graham’s lapels and turning away toward the fire. He didn’t know what to say to that charge. There was nothing to say, really. Whatever his intentions, whatever his goals, he had done exactly what Graham said.

“You are my friend, Graham,” he said softly. “I never would have hurt you on purpose.”

Graham moved toward him, his eyes narrowed. “You were never my friend, Simon. And you did.” He passed by to the door and paused there. “Now let’s go downstairs. There are things to be done. Humiliations to be made complete. You have a bride to finish winning and I want to get on with it so I can go home.”

He opened the door and Simon squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of a half a dozen footsteps scurrying away. Eavesdroppers, whisperers who would multiply this story, magnify it.

All of them would suffer for it: Graham, Meg, Emma, James…though only Simon deserved the censure and gossip. He opened his eyes and watched Graham walk away without so much as a backward glance. It killed him to do it, for he knew what that moment meant.

He had just lost one of his dearest friends. His life would never be the same.





Emma had turned away the lady’s maid, Fran, and now stood behind Meg, twisting her hair into a simple chignon. She had stayed with Meg since her return to the house, silent as Fran helped her into a hot bath, talking about nothing important as she was dressed.

Meg knew what her friend was doing. She was giving her a reprieve since they both knew there would not be another for a long time to come.

She appreciated Emma for it, more than she could express.

“I will not do as good a job at this as Fran would,” Emma said around the final hairpin pressed between her lips. “But you are beautiful no matter what.”

She slid the last pin in and handed Meg a mirror to look at her handiwork. Meg barely did so and turned to smile at Emma. “I’m not sure it matters how I look today.”

“Of course it does,” Emma said. “This is your armor.”

Meg stood and walked across her chamber to stand at the window. She looked down at the garden below where a dozen or so of the party guests were gathered, whispering behind fans, conducting animated discussions that could be about only one thing. Her cheeks burned and her chest ached with anxiety.

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” Meg asked.

Emma stepped forward. “Only if you’d like to.”

Meg faced her. “We must, mustn’t we? After all, what I’ve done, it will affect you and James. This scandal will be very deep for a long time to come. And you and he are only just married. I’m so sorry to ruin that happiness.”

Emma’s expression softened. “My dearest, there is nothing anyone on this earth could do to ruin my happiness when it comes to James. As long as he’s here in this world and he is at my side, I am complete. So there is no reason to apologize for that.” She caught Meg’s hands and gently squeezed. “As for the other, yes, you are moving into some muddy waters. I know snippets of what happened from that awful Lord Baxton’s gossip. Do you want to tell me the truth?”

“There’s so little to tell,” Meg whispered. “I was upset about—” She cut herself off, for saying out loud what she had been upset about felt wrong, especially now that so much damage had been done. “I was upset. I went for a walk, Simon followed, then the storm trapped us. Yes, when we were found we were naked, but that was only to allow our clothes to dry out. Nothing…happened.”

Emma arched a brow. “The way you say that makes me think a little more than nothing happened.”

Meg caught her breath as she looked at her friend. Emma had such a kind expression, a gentle one. And the truth of what had happened last night felt like it was festering in Meg’s body. She needed to say it out lout. She needed someone else to understand. “He—he kissed me.”

Emma nodded, but didn’t look surprised by the admission. “And how was it?”

Meg drew back. “That is what you have to say? No admonishment? No shock?”

“James may be surprised to find out that you have carried feelings for Simon for all these years, but I am not,” Emma said with a laughing shake of her head. “I have seen, even just since you and I became good friends a handful of months ago, how close you and Simon are. How much you mean to each other. So, how was the kiss? You have been waiting for it a long time.”

Meg shifted, for gossiping like schoolgirls over the kiss seemed untoward. “Perhaps I shouldn’t…”

“There is plenty of opportunity for self-recrimination to come,” Emma whispered. “Tell me about the kiss. You are allowed to have enjoyed it.”

“Graham never kissed me. Not more than on the cheek ever and rarely even that,” Meg admitted slowly. “So it was not only my first kiss with Simon, but my first kiss ever. And it was…I have never felt anything like it, Emma. It was tender and passionate, not gentle, but I wanted it so much. I wanted more.”

Emma smiled. “And I think we both know that more is what you are about to get. Is it the best of circumstances? No, of course not. But I hope you won’t let an odd beginning keep you from a happy ending.”

“Like you and James have,” Meg said.

Emma looked at the clock on the mantel and gasped. “We are meant to join them momentarily. Come, we’ll walk together.”