Her Favorite Duke (The 1797 Club #2)(62)

Chapter Twenty





Simon sat on the ground, laying out food and drinks across the blanket that had been tucked into the saddlebag. He was very focused on the act, which gave her time to observe him.

When she’d ridden up to the cottage and he’d stepped out to greet her, every part of her heart and soul had screamed at her to launch herself into his arms.

But she hadn’t. And he hadn’t asked her to do so. He’d only asked for her open mind, and she was trying to give it. It was almost impossible when he did things like quietly and calmly declare his love for her, but then deny that she should decide her future only on his words.

It would be easy to do that, for those words were what she’d wanted to hear for so many years.

“Are you certain you don’t need help?” she asked, shifting on her feet as he set a fallen wine goblet upright for the third time.

“No, I can manage this,” he said, and smiled in triumph as the glass stayed in place at last. “Come join me.”

She laughed as she did so and settled onto the blanket. The spread was lovely, with cold chicken, fresh bread and enough cheese to satisfy even her. He prepared a plate for her and handed it over, along with a glass of wine, then made a plate for himself.

She smiled at him. “You know what this reminds me of?”

His eyes lit up. “That picnic we all went on when you were, what…sixteen?”

She nodded. “James was so lost when he first inherited. I think it was the first time he laughed when he was duke.”

“He and Graham went to fish, didn’t they?” Simon asked.

She shivered as she thought of that long ago day. “And you and I were left alone.”

His own smile fell. “It was the first time we were alone since your engagement. I was trying to maintain a distance, but all I wanted to do was kiss you,” he whispered.

She shrugged. “I wanted you to kiss me, but I knew you wouldn’t.”

“I should have,” he said, scooting a little closer. Close enough that she felt the warmth of his skin, the brush of his breath against her cheek. “I should have thrown caution to the wind and kissed you right then and there. I should have told Graham and James that I wanted to marry you. I should have told you.”

“Why didn’t you?” she whispered, looking up at him, drawn in by all the passion she knew was between them but knowing that would never be enough to sustain their happiness. That had been proven already.

He reached out and dragged his fingertips across her jawline, letting his thumb trace her lower lip gently. “Honor,” he whispered.

She frowned. There was that word again. Honor had been the foundation of all the walls he put between them.

He continued, “I would have told you then that it was honor that stopped me. But that wasn’t it. Not really.”

Her eyes went wide at that admission. “What was it?”

“Fear,” he admitted, and it was clear how difficult that word was to say. She saw it in the darkening of his cheeks, in the way his eyes darted away. “It’s no excuse, but I spent my life trying to fit a mold, trying to please unpleasable parents. If I edged the wrong way, everything I wanted was withheld.”

She and Emma had discussed this, that Simon had not be raised to fight, but to please. And she understood his desire to make things right rather than to ask for what he wanted. “I do understand. I’ve seen the way your mother treats you even now. It wasn’t right to make you dance for your reward. Not when the reward was love.”

He cocked his head. “I never knew love until I met my friends. That was brotherhood and acceptance. And I was afraid to lose it. And honestly…” He trailed off and then shook his head. “Bloody hell, this is difficult to say.”

She took his hands and squeezed gently. “Just say it.”

He nodded. “What if I risked it, Meg? What if I had leaned in and kissed you and told you everything in my heart? And then you’d…hated me for it. And they’d hated me for it. I was terrified I’d lose everything that I held dear and end up alone again.”

She flinched. “So you didn’t try.”

“No,” he said with a sigh. “I didn’t try. It was cowardly of me.”

She watched him carefully, his drawn face, his torn expression. She had always loved Simon for his ability to make light of difficult situations. For the way he acted as peacemaker when it was needed. In truth, that made then very alike.

So alike that neither of them had tried for more, even when they both desperately wanted it. Wanted each other.

She pushed to her feet and smiled down at him. “Come.”

He wrinkled his brow. “You don’t want to eat?”

“After.”

“After what?” he asked, his tone wary as he got to his feet.

She laughed. “It is one of the last warm days in the fall and that lake will soon be too cold to swim in. I always wanted to do it, but was discouraged once I was a young woman. Not appropriate, they said.”

His eyes went wide. “You want to swim in the lake with me.”

She nodded, then turned her back to him. “Unfasten me, will you?”

There was a beat of hesitation, then she felt his hands sliding across her shoulders, to the buttons along the back of her habit. When he’d loosened her, she shed it, along with the plain shift dress beneath, leaving her in only her chemise. When she turned, he’d already stripped out of his shirt and unfastened his trousers, which now slung low on defined hips.