Page 22 of My Daring Duchess
Heavens, her mood was bleak! And it was all Simon’s fault.
He frowned as he held out the things he had brought her. “Ye are the first woman I have ever nursed in sickness besides my sisters.”
“Ha!” Anne blurted.
Simon narrowed his eyes at her. “I take it yer exclamation means ye don’t believe me.”
“How very perceptive you are,Your Grace.”
“What happen to ye calling me Simon?” he growled.
“As you said, my ailment must be affecting my mood,” she boldly lied.
“Indeed,” he replied, though she detected a note of disbelief in his voice. “I hope ye are feeling well enough for our dance lesson tomorrow. I have already offered Rutledge a position at my company, so I have stayed true to my word to ye. I am assuming ye will do the same.”
“I will,” she assured him. She had no intention of letting the man seduce her and attain his revenge, but she had every intention of doing all she could to make him think he was seducing her so she could use that advantage to help Fanny. Perhaps she could convince Simon that he could lead her to scandal if he persuaded Rutledge to marry Fanny. Once the man did that, she’d inform Simon she knew what a rotten rogue he was. She was supremely pleased with herself and her plan.
“Ye have the loveliest smile,” Simon said, startling her.
Heavens! She’d not even realized she’d been smiling. “Thank you,” she replied, certain it was more of his roguish nonsense.
“Yer smile,” he continued, “is full of life and kindness.”
Well, that was the nicest compliment she had ever received. If only it were genuine… He was a superb rake who had the ability to flatter in a way that did not seem roguish at all. What if itwassincere? What if she had it all wrong? She shivered at her foolishness, and before she knew what was occurring, Simon had taken the blanket from her and was situating it over her legs. She watched in fascination as he tucked it snug at her sides, then motioned toward her feet.
“May I?”
“May you what?” she asked, feeling rather as if in a daze.
“I’d like to remove yer slippers and put the foot warmer under yer feet.”
“You want to touch my feet?” she blurted.
“I want to warm ye,” he said in a suggestive tone that made her imagination gallop. She envisioned herself lying on her bed with him straddling her, his thighs caging her in and her foot in his hands. But the daydream abruptly shifted when he realized one leg was most assuredly shorter than the other, and he gawked at her.
“I can warm my own feet, thank you.” There was nothing on Earth that could compel her to allow him to handle her shoes and see that one had a lift built in. She could think of nothing more mortifying.
“As ye wish,” he conceded and laid the foot warmer down beside her feet. “If ye will be certain to keep yer head and feet warm, ye will stay warm all over.”
“My mother used to tell me the same thing,” Anne replied softly.
“Aye?”
Anne nodded.
“Mine did as well. Seems our mothers were very astute women.”
She could hear the sadness in his tone. There was no faking that emotion, nor could he know the sad look he had on his face. Her heart wrenched for him.
“You miss your mother,” she stated.
“Oh, aye. Every day. Don’t ye?”
“I do,” she replied, her throat tightening with emotion. “I better depart now.”
“Aye, and I need to return to Rutledge. We’ve some matters left to discuss.”
Indeed! They needed to discuss the best roguish ways, she was sure. “Don’t allow me to delay you,” she said.
