Her Favorite Duke (The 1797 Club #2)(54)

Meg nodded. “Yes. I’ve been giving him his space.”

Emma shook her head. “Then you must stop doing that. This has been a war of small battles, it may be time for a far larger one. Something more direct. Simon loves you—anyone who looks at you together can see it, even if he wants to deny it out of some misplaced sense of guilt. You have to force him into seeing that the future is where he must go, not live in the past.”

Meg drew back, for Emma had just said the thing she longed for most. The thing she couldn’t believe at the moment. “Loves me?” she repeated softly. “He has wanted me, cared for me, but he’s never said the other.”

“I know. Have you?”

She tensed. “No,” she admitted softly. “I’ve been too afraid of his rejection. If he turned away, I think I would have to…to leave. I couldn’t bear having him know that I loved him and him not care in the slightest.”

“That is what fighting is,” Emma said. “It’s knowing that we might lose what we desire, but doing it anyway so that we can get what we need even more.”

“Did you fight for James?” Meg asked, thinking back to earlier in the summer when her brother and Emma had circled each other. She hadn’t ever believed their love was easy, but she hadn’t considered that Emma was going into battle.

Emma smiled softly. “Yes. I misunderstood something I saw him do and my life became very clear in that moment. Despite everything my father was threatening, despite the danger posed to me by outside forces, I told James I didn’t want to marry him.”

Meg’s mouth dropped open. “You did?”

“On the morning of our wedding, no less. I told him I loved him and would accept nothing less from him.” Emma shivered, like even the memory still touched her. “It was terrifying to stand there, looking at him after I’d said those words, waiting for him to respond. I think that moment must have stretched out forever. But the risk was worth the reward. James didn’t know how I felt. And once he did, it opened up a world of honesty and passion and love that has made everything else I ever went through fade in its intensity, replaced by contentment and joy.”

“But what if James hadn’t said he loved you?” Meg asked, trembling as she pictured Simon turning away from her.

Emma swallowed hard. “Then at least I wouldn’t have lived a lie like my mother did or your mother did. At least I would have known how to proceed with my eyes wide open.”

“I’m afraid,” Meg admitted, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as all the worst outcomes of the bravery Emma described played through her head.

Emma nodded. “I know. But being brave is really about being afraid and doing something anyway. Be brave for yourself and for him. Whatever happens, at least you won’t regret staying silent or passive about your own future.”

As they stood together, Meg felt some of Emma’s strength swirling into her and giving her what she lacked. “Yes, you’re right of course,” she whispered. “I’ve held back with Simon, as much as I’ve accused him of doing the same. I’m going to face him head-on. At this point, I think I must.”

She let out a long breath and moved toward the parlor door. Emma laughed, “You are going right now?”

“Yes. Simon went to his club, but he should be back before supper. I think I’d best go home and make some preparations before he returns.” She gave Emma one last look that she knew reflected her fear. “And before I lose my nerve.”





Simon sat in the corner of White’s, a drink in hand and a newspaper folded in his lap. He was meant to be sipping the drink and reading the paper, but neither was on his list at present. He was too distracted by thoughts of Meg and also by the chilly reception he had received since his arrival an hour earlier.

Oh, the men around him said hello, but no one had dared approach him and publicly declare they would remain a friend to him. Of course, he recognized he fully deserved that outcome.

Meg didn’t. He did. But he would destroy them both socially thanks to his lack of decorum when it came to his feelings for her.

“Why did I follow her?” he muttered as he snapped the paper open and lifted it.

“My very question,” came a slurred voice.

Simon froze, for he knew the voice as well as his own. He lowered the paper to watch Graham flop himself into the chair across from him. His friend’s normally bright blue eyes were bleary with drink and he clearly hadn’t shaved for a week.

Simon shifted, watching all the eyes on them from all around the room. In that moment, all he cared about was his friend.

“Graham,” he said softly. “I-I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Should I hide away and let you have White’s?” Graham snapped.

“No, of course not,” Simon said, ducking his head. “There is no reason for you to hide from anywhere. You did nothing wrong.”

A flash of raw emotion moved over Graham’s face at that statement, but then it was gone. Only the understandable anger remained there, the disgust.

“Damn right,” Graham muttered, downing the rest of his drink and setting it on the table between them.

“Would you like…would you like me to give up my membership here?” Simon asked.

Graham stared at him. “Not return to White’s?”