Page 26 of The Viscount in her Bedroom
He found himself leaning toward her, wanting to know her secrets, wanting to understand the mystery of a woman like Louisa Shelby.
“My employer’s male relatives thought they could abuse my place in their household.”
She spoke calmly, distantly, as if it no longer touched her.
Before he could find a question that wouldn’t further her pain, she hurried on. “Oh, I resigned before more than ugly invitations were bandied about. But I thought you meant that rumors had spread that I was unaware of.”
He didn’t know how to answer that. She seemed to be only referring to her work as a companion, not her time in London, when she was sought after—and whispered about—by so many men. It wasn’t his place to hurt her by telling those truths.
“Is there someone I should call out?” he said lightly. “I can find dueling pistols. You only have to tell me where to aim.”
She laughed.
He realized he’d eased the tension between them with humor, which used to come so naturally to him. Something about her made him relive the old days, and it wasn’t such a painful thing.
~oOo~
The next morning, Simon found his grandmother alone in her morning room.
“Am I interrupting, Grandmama?” he asked.
“I’m only writing a letter. It can wait, I assure you. Do come sit down.”
Manvil led him to a chair, and when Simon was seated, he dismissed his servant to the corridor, his usual place. He paid Manvil well to be so available to him, but Simon still felt uneasy with it. Manvil had to be his constant companion.
And that made him think of Louisa Shelby, his grandmother’s companion.
“Grandmama, I want to talk about Miss Shelby.”
She laughed. “I keep trying to convince you and your sister that I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“And we’re not convinced.”
She didn’t respond.
“That’s not correct,” he continued. “Georgie seems convinced. But I’m the one who’s constantly running into Miss Shelby, who’s being forced to listen to her sing, to walk the garden with her as a group of ‘young people.’ Wasn’t that how you put it yesterday?”
“I had plenty of companionship with my friends visiting. She doesn’t need to be with me every moment of the day.”
“You’re deliberately putting her in my way, Grandmama. I’m not going to marry—ever.”
“I am not ‘putting her in your way,’ Simon,” she said firmly. “My actions are not always about you.”
She ignored his talk of never marrying, and he let her get away with it for now. If he was supposed to feel put in his place, she’d failed. He knew she was not yet ready to back down from this new plan of hers—matchmaking. She didn’t need a companion; she was finding him a bride. He was angry and uncomfortable, but consoled himself with the knowledge that at least Miss Shelby did not suspect she was being used as a pawn to draw the poor blind man out of his shell.
Unless the rumors about her had made it so difficult to find a husband that she’d lowered herself to consider him. Was trying to get close to Georgie Miss Shelby’s way of getting close to him?
His anger hardened into fury, and he called for Manvil.
“Simon, you only just arrived,” his grandmother said.
“I feel the need to be outdoors for awhile.”
“I understand that the house can make you feel trapped,” she said. “Go on and enjoy yourself.”
Her voice sounded happier, as if it was a miracle that he was getting about on his own. Instead he needed a servant to get him through the garden.
“To the lake,” he told his valet when they were in the corridor.
