The Duke and I (Bridgertons, #1)(104)

"So I am," Simon replied. "Now leave."

"Not so fast," Benedict said, crossing his arms.

Simon turned to Daphne. "Which one of them may I shoot first?"

She threw a scowl at her brothers. "I have no preference."





"We have a few demands before we'll let you keep Daphne," Colin said.

"What?" Daphne howled.

"She is my wife!" Simon roared, effectively obliterating Daphne's angry query.

"She was our sister first," Anthony growled, "and you've made her miserable."

"This isn't any of your business," Daphne insisted.

"You're our business," Benedict said.

"She's my business," Simon snapped, "so now get the hell out of my house."

"When the three of you have marriages of your own, then you can presume to offer me advice,"

Daphne said angrily, "but in the meantime, keep your meddling impulses to yourselves."

"I'm sorry, Daff," Anthony said, "but we're not budging on this."

"On what?" she snapped. "You have no place to budge one way or the other. This isn't your affair!"

Colin stepped forward. "We're not leaving until we're convinced he loves you."

The blood drained from Daphne's face. Simon had never once told her that he loved her. He'd shown it, in a thousand different little ways, but he'd never said the words. When they came, she didn't want them at the hands of her overbearing brothers; she wanted them free and felt, from Simon's heart.

"Don't do this, Colin," she whispered, hating the pathetic, pleading note of her voice. "You have to let me fight my own battles."

"Daff—"

"Please," she pleaded.

Simon marched between them. "If you will excuse us," he said to Colin, and by extension, to Anthony and Benedict. He ushered Daphne to the other end of the hall, where they might talk privately. He would have liked to have moved to another room altogether, but he had no

confidence that her idiot brothers wouldn't follow.

"I'm so sorry about my brothers," Daphne whispered, her words coming out in a heated rush.

"They're boorish idiots, and they had no business invading your house. If I could disown them I would. After this display I wouldn't be surprised if you never want children—"

Simon silenced her with a finger to her lips. "First of all, it's our house, not my house. And as for



your brothers—they annoy the hell out of me, but they're acting out of love." He leaned down, just an inch, but it brought him close enough so that she could feel his breath oh her skin. "And who can blame them?" he murmured.

Daphne's heart stopped.

Simon moved ever closer, until his nose rested on hers. "I love you, Daff," he whispered.

Her heart started again, with a vengeance. "You do?"

He nodded, his nose rubbing against hers. "I couldn't help it."

Her lips wobbled into a hesitant smile. "That's not terribly romantic."

"It's the truth," he said, with a helpless shrug. "You know better than anyone that I didn't want any of this. I didn't want a wife, I didn't want a family, and I definitely didn't want to fall in love."

He brushed his mouth softly against hers, sending shivers down both of their bodies. "But what I found"—his lips touched hers again—"much to my dismay"—and again—"was that it's quite impossible not to love you."

Daphne melted into his arms. "Oh, Simon," she sighed.

His mouth captured hers, trying to show her with his kiss what he was still learning to express in words. He loved her. He worshipped her. He'd walk across fire for her. He—still had the

audience of her three brothers.

Slowly breaking the kiss, he turned his face to the side. Anthony, Benedict, and Colin were still standing in the foyer. Anthony was studying the ceiling, Benedict was pretending to inspect his fingernails, and Colin was staring quite shamelessly.

Simon tightened his hold on Daphne, even as he shot a glare down the hall. "What the hell are the three of you still doing in my house?"

Not surprisingly, none of them had a ready answer.

"Get out," Simon growled.

"Please." Daphne's tone didn't exactly suggest politeness.

"Right," Anthony replied, smacking Colin on the back of the head. "I believe our work here is done, boys."

Simon started steering Daphne toward the stairs. "I'm sure you can show yourselves out," he said over his shoulder.

Anthony nodded and nudged his brothers toward the door.



"Good," Simon said tersely. "We'll be going upstairs."

"Simon!" Daphne squealed.

"It's not as if they don't know what we're going to do," he whispered in her ear.

"But still—They're my brothers? "

"God help us," he muttered.

But before Simon and Daphne could even reach the landing, the front door burst open, followed by a stream of decidedly feminine invective.

"Mother?" Daphne said, the word croaking in her throat.