Her Favorite Duke (The 1797 Club #2)(9)

Simon swallowed and glared at his friend. “Pouting? I’m a grown man, we do not pout.”

“Ask any governess. I’m certain she would recognize the signs right away,” Roseford said.

Simon shook his head. “If you were alone with a governess, you wouldn’t be asking her about me.”

Robert laughed. “Not if she were comely, no. And damn it, man, you used to be right there with me! I could always depend on you to be at my side when conquest was on my mind. Hell, you remember that pretty opera singer in London?”

Simon clenched his jaw, for he did remember. Years ago, he and Robert had prowled for women together. They’d always found plenty of willing partners. They’d even shared a few of them, including the singer he now referred to. He supposed Robert meant for the memory to excite him.

It didn’t. He thought of those times and knew what they really were to him. A way to forget Meg. A way that had never, ever worked, for here he was, just as in love with her as ever. Just as hopeless in that love as ever. The future just as determined as ever.

Roseford tilted his head and speared Simon with a closer look. Now his expression went from teasing to concerned. Simon’s stomach turned. He’d already had a conversation about his heart with Idlewood—the last thing he wanted were words of comfort from Roseford of all people.

“You need to stop feeling this way,” Roseford said, his jaw set and his tone sharp.

Simon wrinkled his brow. “What way?”

Roseford leaned back, incredulous. “Look, it is what it is. There is no changing it. So just stop feeling this way.”

Simon’s lips parted. “Just how many of you idiots think you know something about me and my heart?”

Roseford shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a delicate subject, isn’t it, you coveting what you cannot have. I’m certain some have noticed and others clearly have not or you would have been called out years ago.”

Simon bent his head. “I deserve to be called out.”

“Not unless you’ve done something,” Robert said, slugging back another gulp of his drink. “Which I know you have too much honor to do.”

“You say to stop feeling like the heart has a lever one can turn on and off,” Simon said, pacing away. “It doesn’t.”

Roseford was quiet a long while, and then he shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been so foolish as to let my heart lead. My cock, yes. My heart…no.”

“So if I can’t take your advice about shutting off how I feel, then what do you suggest I do?”

Roseford pondered the question for a moment, then his eyes lit up. “I know—let’s go away.”

“Go away?” Simon repeated. “Go away where?”

“Ireland, perhaps. The lasses there are always welcoming,” Robert suggested. “Or…Napoleon’s been quiet since his marriage. We might be able to sneak down to Italy, lie in the sun. You need a fuck and I’m certain we could manage that.”

Simon chuckled even though he didn’t truly feel in good humor. “Fuck the pain away, huh? Because it’s worked so well before?”

“Maybe not, but it’s worth a try, isn’t it?” Roseford said. “Come on. It’s been an age since we went on the prowl together.”

Two days ago, Simon knew he would have refused this offer. The encounter with Meg on the terrace had given him a strange hope. But since she had been avoiding him ever since, and after that odd argument they’d had in the hallway, now he wasn’t so sure.

She didn’t seem to want him to intrude upon her arrangement, even if he could see she wasn’t happy with it. And the consequences for doing so would be so grave. Graham would despise him, likely James too. And certainly none of the others would appreciate that he would go against one of their group.

Loyalty was important. His was being tested. But if Meg didn’t want him…

“Very well,” he said softly.

Roseford’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Yes, perhaps you’re right that I need a change of scenery.” He allowed himself a heavy sigh. “I do have one request, though.”

“And what is that?” Robert asked.

“I want to leave soon,” Simon said. “I want to leave soon, and I don’t want to come back until after Northridge’s wedding.”

Roseford wasn’t exactly the most empathetic of their group, but his face softened at the request. He nodded slowly. “Of course, Crestwood. If that is what you need, I’ll begin making arrangements right away. We could leave in a few days’ time and certainly we can find plenty to do that wouldn’t bring us home until long after the new year.”

Simon wanted to feel relief in this decision. After all, he was about to keep himself from doing something he might regret. And yet, as he clinked his glass against Robert’s, he didn’t feel good.

He felt like he was running away from his future. He felt like he was running away from his heart.





Chapter Three





Simon couldn’t help his smile as he watched Meg wallop the croquet ball with all her might. She had always been competitive and her laughter carried through the air, caressing his ear like a kiss. He would miss this when he was gone. Just as he would miss the soft music of her voice, the way tendrils of hair shivered around her face when she moved, the way she always let her hand linger on his a beat too long when they met or talked or danced.