Page 48 of Finding Love at Roseford Blooms
As they climbed back into the Range Rover, Simon reflected on how much easier this all felt with Lizzie next to him. And also, how much he wanted to be by her side protecting her when she needed it, too. Perhaps it was because of what she’d shared with him about that night back in their teens, but he found himself wanting to be there with her for everything, good and bad, from now on.
About an hour later, they pulled into the car park of the Silverton House Bed and Breakfast and briskly retrieved their luggage. Simon had hung his suit carrier on the handle of one of the back seats, and was juggling that, his holdall and Lizzie’s overnight bag by the time she’d stepped down from the Range Rover.
‘Give your suit to me.’ Lizzie grinned, clearly appreciating Simon’s chivalry. ‘I’m feeling a bit better now the painkillers have kicked in.’
Simon handed it over, and got a better grip on their bags. ‘Thanks.’
They headed to the front of the charming, Victorian house where they were staying, and checked in with the friendly and welcoming owner. During their picnic in the Long Gallery, Simon and Lizzie had talked about the sleeping arrangements, and Simon had booked them a room to share. They were pleased to be led to a generously sized, light and airy room that overlooked the back garden of the property.
‘This is lovely, thank you,’ Lizzie said as the owner left them to it. She ambled over to the sash window, which had been pulled up to let in the summer air, and breathed in the scent of honeysuckle and English roses that tumbled over the garden walls and packed the borders of the freshly mown lawn.
Simon looked at her for a long moment, enjoying the sight of her. Despite the circumstances, and still feeling nervous about what was to come, he slipped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and gently leaning down to kiss the side of her neck, breathing her in as she arched against him in pleasure.
‘That feels good,’ she murmured, before turning around to kiss him on the mouth. Her lips felt soft and warm, and as the kiss deepened, his body immediately responded to the press of her torso against his.
‘What time do we have to be at the school?’ Lizzie asked breathily.
‘Not until seven,’ Simon responded between kisses that were growing more heated. As he pulled back slightly from her, he felt his desire surging at the look in her eyes. It was clear that they were both thinking about how to best spend that time, and that their thoughts were heading in exactly the same direction. Simon pulled the curtains across the window, and allowed himself to be led to the huge, brass bedstead. As they collapsed down onto the thick, white duvet, they began discarding their clothes, and soon they’d lost all track of time.
40
Later on, after a shower, Lizzie lay in a white, fluffy towel on the bed where she and Simon had spent most of the afternoon, watching Simon slipping into his dinner suit. The cut of it was exquisite, and she was reminded again of what a great figure he made when he tried. Despite where he lived, and what he did for a job, it was sometimes easy to forget that he was Simon Treloar, Tenth Lord of Roseford, even if his circumstances were now a little different from his forebears’. But there was something about the straight lines of his back as he stood, the way he, when he chose to, carried that heritage with pride, that seemed so natural. It was also deeply at odds with his admissions about what had happened to him during his time at Cross Dean. Everyone wore some kind of protective psychological armour, she thought, and she had the feeling that Simon’s had been years in the making. She also knew that he was going to need it tonight.
‘Do you need any help with the bow tie?’ she asked as he pulled it from the inside pocket of his suit carrier.
‘No, thanks.’ Simon threw a grin at her over his shoulder. ‘I’ve got it down to a fine art. Wouldn’t mind a hand with the cufflinks, though.’
Lizzie tucked her towel around herself and stood up from the bed. ‘Of course.’ She took the small jewellery box that Simon passed her and opened it. The cufflinks, silver inset with sapphires, glinted back at her when she opened it. ‘They’re gorgeous,’ she breathed.
‘One of the few family heirlooms left unhocked,’ Simon replied dryly. ‘I guard them with my life.’
Carefully, Lizzie slipped the left one into the buttonhole in Simon’s crisp white cuff. The colour was exquisite against the fabric. Then, quickly, she did the right.
‘Thank you,’ Simon said. His eyes were similar in colour to the sapphires, and Lizzie found herself staring deeply into them as she looked up at him.
‘Any time.’ Then she glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘I’d better get my skates on.’
‘I’ll, er, go down to the lounge and wait for you,’ Simon replied. ‘Unless you need my help with anything?’
‘I should be fine,’ Lizzie replied. She leaned up and kissed him. ‘See you in a bit.’
As he softly closed the bedroom door behind him, Lizzie swiftly did her make-up and then slipped into the dusky pink dress that she’d bought for the occasion. It was a colour that suited her. She pulled up the zip, thankfully at the side and not difficult to reach with her still tender arm, and then slipped on the shoes she’d bought to match. Both shoes and dress had come from the newly opened shop in Roseford, which had saved Lizzie hours of trawling through websites and waiting for something to be delivered. The owner of the shop, Polly, had a great eye, Lizzie had to admit, as the chiffon of the dress fell flatteringly to just below her knees, and the shoes were the perfect complementary shade.
She wrapped her hair into her go-to style for going out, a messy, asymmetrical Dutch braid, with several tendrils of her dark hair framing her face to soften the look, and took a deep breath. She was glad she’d made the effort; it might sound a little old-fashioned, but she wanted Simon to feel proud to have her on his arm tonight.
Checking she’d got everything she needed in her handbag, she grabbed her jacket from the hook on the back of the door and pulled the bedroom door shut behind her. She walked to the steep staircase and took a moment to compose herself. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous; it wasn’t as if she knew anyone who was going to be there tonight, after all. It actually felt quite good to be the moral support in this situation, to have no agenda other than to be there for Simon.
As she descended the stairs, she heard Simon in the lounge having a chat to the owner of the B & B. He was so good with people, it was difficult to imagine him as the boy who lacked confidence at school.
She walked through the doorway into the lounge and was gratified to see Simon doing a double take.
‘Hi,’ he said, smiling broadly. ‘You look absolutely wonderful. That’s a knockout dress.’ He put his drink down on the bar and walked towards her, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.
‘Thank you.’ Lizzie glowed with pleasure. ‘I’m glad you approve.’
‘Can I get you a drink? I’m having a spot of Dutch courage myself, while we wait for the taxi.’ He gestured to his glass on the bar. ‘Ron here assures me that this is the best single malt this side of the Irish Sea, and I’m inclined to agree with him.’
‘I’m fine for the moment, thanks,’ Lizzie replied. She was wary of mixing booze with painkillers, and she’d had another couple before she’d come down. Her collarbone was pleasantly numb right now, but she didn’t want to take any chances. ‘Can I have a sip though?’
