Page 39 of Not the Duke's Virgin

Victoria sipped her tea, her appetite not nearly so robust. But she managed some toast and fruit, knowing she would need strength for the coming day.

As more guests filtered in, lively conversations and discussions about the news and gossip of the day arose. Victoria was content to let the chatter flow around her. She noticed Simon enter, looking vital and handsome as ever in a dark green riding coat. Her wayward gaze lingered a moment too long, forcing her to drop her eyes as he took his place at the head of the table.

Eventually, the extravagant breakfast wound to a close, and Simon stood up to address the guests. “I hope you have all enjoyed the hospitality of Hayward thus far. I thought today we would spend the morning indoors, enjoying reading and playing games. Please adjourn to the drawing room at your leisure.”

Chairs and sofas were arranged in a circle around the large, well-lit room. Simon led Victoria toward a settee, then seated himself in an armchair nearby. Madeline happily sat on Victoria’s other side.

The Dowager Duchess was seated near the cold hearth, a snoozing greyhound at her slippered feet providing her only company. “Come now, boy, read us something diverting,” she called imperiously, waving her hand. “I wish to be entertained.”

Simon raised an eyebrow but complied, selecting a volume of poetry from a side table. He had a pleasing voice, rich and mellifluous, ideal for oral recitation. Despite herself, Victoria found her turbulent thoughts quietening as she listened to him read verse after verse.

After nearly an hour, Simon paused to take a drink of water. “I think that is enough poetry for one morning,” he pronounced, snapping the book shut decisively. “Let us play some charades to liven up the atmosphere.”

This suggestion was met with great enthusiasm. The guests rearranged themselves into teams. Madeline clasped Victoria’s hands beseechingly until Victoria laughed and agreed to be her partner. Simon’s eyes glinted with amusement, but he did not object, moving to pair with an older gentleman instead.

As the game commenced, Victoria found herself caught up in the lighthearted spirit.

Madeline clasped her hands eagerly. “Let us begin the charades! Who shall go first?”

“Allow me.” Simon stepped forward and held up two fingers.

“Two words!” called out a gentleman.

Simon nodded and proceeded to mime reading a book.

“Book, read, novel!” other voices rang out.

Simon shook his head and pretended to stir something.

“Cooking, baking, mixing!”

When no one guessed correctly, Simon combined the actions.

“Reading cookbook!” Madeline cried. “Well done!”

There was applause as Simon bowed and rejoined the group. He seemed more at ease, his eyes glinting with humor as he watched each performance.

When Madeline’s turn came, Victoria whispered, “You can do this!” as her cousin took center stage.

Madeline acted out sewing.

“Knitting, embroidery, stitching!” Victoria shouted excitedly, then “Seamstress!” when Madeline mimed measuring cloth.

Madeline curtsied as everyone clapped. “Your turn, Your Grace!” she said.

Simon pantomimed drinking exaggeratedly.

“Ale, liquor, drunk!” everyone called out.

When he added weaving unsteadily, Victoria laughed. “Drunken sailor!”

Simon pointed at her, grinning roguishly.

Victoria blushed as others applauded.

Meanwhile, Oliver lingered alone in the corner, paying no heed to the game. He sipped broodingly on his wine glass, refilling it frequently from a nearby decanter. His stormy gaze remained fixed on Simon and Victoria’s lively interaction.

After an enthusiastic round of charades, the party broke to refresh themselves before lunch.

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