Page 14 of My Daring Duchess
Additionally, if she and Simon struck a bargain, then she would be around him and his sisters and in the position to ensure the duke did not practice his roguish ways on some other poor, unsuspecting young lady.
Simon sat at his desk in his study and stared at the papers before him, forcing himself to reread the paragraph. It was no use, though. He could have read it a thousand times, and still he would need to do so again on another day. Doing business today was hopeless. He hadn’t experienced a day like this since starting his company, but his thoughts would not stay on what they needed to. His mind was on Anne—her lovely smile, her entrancing eyes, her delectable curves, and her spiked rejoinders. He could feel his lips pulling into a grin. He wondered at his own state of mind to so anticipate seeing a woman who might very well still be intent on ruining Rutledge and who Simon himself intended to use for revenge.
He glanced at the clock for what must have been the hundredth time and frowned. It was now three o’clock. She was not coming. He’d been certain she would, but it seemed he’d been overly confident. Frustration lodged in his chest. It was not all born of his need for revenge, however. He’d enjoyed talking with Anne last night. She was obviously very intelligent, and it was a rare lady who stood her own ground in a conversation with him. He appreciated her boldness, even as it was the source of Rutledge’s current dilemma.
Simon had no notion how to set his seduction in motion while avoiding being detected by Rowan if the lovely Anne did not come to see him. He sighed. He needed some fresh air. Perhaps a hard ride and the outdoors would give him some new ideas. He pushed back from his desk and stood, yanking on his cravat as he went. He detested the thing. It made him feel confined, as had the tiny room where he’d lived while starting his company in Edinburgh. Once the cloth was loose, he slid it from his neck and slung it over his shoulder. He strode out of his office and toward the front door, but his sister, Elizabeth, came down the stairs just as he was passing them.
She gazed at his shirt, now gaping open at his neck, and sighed in a maternal way that made his chest tighten with memories of their mother. Elizabeth was but eight and ten so she did not remember their mother, but she looked just like her. “If ye’re going out dressed indecently, please stay on the grounds.”
He chuckled. It had taken Elizabeth precisely one week in Town to become completely aware of the rules in London and decide they all better follow them or risk being socially ostracized. He wanted to indulge her, as he wanted to give her everything she had ever wanted, but he did detest the cravat.
“I will stay on the grounds,” he promised.
“Why are ye promising to stay on the grounds?” his other sister, Caitlin, who was three and twenty, asked as she came around the corner from the parlor.
He motioned to his cravat. “Elizabeth is afraid I’ll shock someone if I encounter them in my indecent state.”
Caitlin rolled her eyes. She, like Simon, only abided the English rules for Elizabeth’s sake. Caitlin remembered their mother and knew that their grandfather had refused to help Simon, which had led to their mother’s death. She despised the English and had only come here because Simon did not like allowing his sisters out of his sight. They were under his care until they were married, and he’d not fail them as he had their mother.
The butler, Perceval, stepped forward as Simon continued toward the door. “Have an excellent ride, Your Grace,” Perceval said, proving once again that while the man may be ancient, there were no problems with his hearing. Simon had yet to have a conversation in this house that Perceval had not made an offhanded comment about. Perceval opened the door as Simon started to depart, but on the other side of the door stood Anne, holding her hand poised to knock and looking as gut-wrenchingly lovely as she had the previous night.
Her eyes widened and her lips parted as she slowly lowered her gloved hand. Her gaze went to his neck and then flew to his face as she sucked in her lower lip. Simon drank in her beauty. She wore a pelisse that looked to be made of blue velvet. The color enhanced her fair skin and flaxen curls. The cut, fastened tightly below her breasts, made Simon keenly aware of her generous curves. Her left hand was stuck inside a dark fur muff, and draped over her arm was his topcoat.
Her pinked cheeks appeared touched with cold, and Simon found himself looking past her for her carriage. When he saw none, he glanced from her, to her slippers, to the snow. “Do ye mean to tell me that ye walked here?”
“I’d say that is f-fairly obvious,” she said, shivering.
“Might I say who’s calling?” Perceval asked, as if Anne and Simon had not been standing there having a conversation.
Simon locked gazes with Anne, and they both burst out laughing, at which Perceval frowned severely. Behind Simon, he felt his sisters suddenly hovering.
“Who is this?” Caitlin demanded.
“Caitlin,” Elizabeth scolded. “Simon’s friend will think us without manners.” Elizabeth pushed through him and Perceval to stop directly in front of Anne. When his sister gave an awkward curtsy, Simon watched Anne to see if she smirked or gave any such derogatory expression. Instead, she smiled sweetly.
Elizabeth beamed as she came to her full height once more. “I’m Elizabeth Sedgwick.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Elizabeth. I’m Anne Adair—Miss Adair, if you are a rule follower, which I typically am not, or you can call me Anne.”
“Oh, I couldn’t, but you must call me Elizabeth, not Lady Elizabeth!” Elizabeth gushed as she looked longingly at Anne’s pelisse. He needed to rectify both his sisters’ wardrobe situations. He’d not even realized he’d been remiss, until they’d arrived in London and seen all the clothing the ladies of thetonwore.
“I insist you call me Anne, if I am to be less formal with you,” Anne replied. “And might I request entry into your home?” She turned her large blue eyes on Simon.
Instantly aware that they’d been forcing her to stand in the cold and that he was blocking her path, he moved to allow her entry, as did Elizabeth and Perceval, who mumbled his apologies while shuffling backward at his usual snail’s pace.
“Perceval, fetch Miss Adair a blanket please.” He caught Anne’s eye and saw her smile at his use of her proper name. His chest tightened strangely.
“Or I could use this topcoat I found discarded on the road,” she offered, her words kind but a wicked gleam in her eye.
The woman was daring. Simon rather liked that. She was also foolish to have walked here in the cold. Simon held out his hand for his coat while struggling to keep a straight face. “I must have dropped that. Thank ye for returning it. It’s lucky I was home.”
“Was it?” She cocked her eyebrows.
“Indeed,” he said somberly, aware Perceval and his sisters were standing there silently listening to his and Anne’s exchange. Just then Elizabeth started chattering about the cold, and Simon used the diversion to motion Perceval close. When Perceval stood directly in front of him, Simon handed the man his coat and whispered, “have Donnelly ready the carriage for Miss Adair’s eventual departure.” When Perceval looked confused about Simon’s orders for the coachman, Simon said, “So she does not have to once again walk in the cold.”
Perceval nodded, smiled, and immediately departed. As Simon turned his attention to Anne and his sisters once more, Elizabeth fell silent. Anne cocked her eyebrows once more. “Why was it lucky you were home?” she asked, deftly picking up on where their conversation had stopped.
“I was supposed to have an appointment by two—” he gave her a hard stare “—but alas, they did not come. If they had, I might have been out showing them the gardens or some such.”
