Page 15 of Kiss the Scoundrel Farewell
Now she played with him again.
They sat in horrified silence, staring at one another. When her green eyes shone with tears, his anger faded.
“Why?” he rasped.
She shook her head. Her lips trembled as she reached out to touch his arm. “My parents arranged the marriage. The day after we… the next morning, Drake arrived and spoke to my father. The fiend announced our betrothal to my mother and me at the same time. I was never even asked. Mama had it announced in the newspaper the next day to seal the agreement.”
He dropped his head, eyes closed. Miss Margaret had not dangled him like a toy before a cat. No, she’d been used by her parents as he was being used by his own. No more!
“I heard about the baron’s end. I am sorry for you,” he said, his brain scrambling to decide his next move. “But I am not sorry that he is gone.”
She blinked, and he wanted to pull off her hat, run his fingers through her glorious blonde tresses, and tell her all would be well. They would be together again. He wanted to feast on the sight of Miss Margaret Flemming.
“How is your family?” she asked.
A growl crept up his throat. “My father has given up the blue ruin. With my help, he’s made some investments and is refilling the coffers.”
Margaret nodded, her eyes now focused on her lap. “I am glad to hear it.”
“And you? What happened after the scandal of the duel died down?”
She told him a sad tale of abandonment by her parents, the help from the Widows’ League, and her quiet life in Guilford, County Surrey.
A flaxen lock had fallen from beneath the black wig, and Simon gently tucked it away. Her hand caught his, and the sizzle between them revived with fervor. He leaned forward and kissed her again.
It was the same passion he’d felt at the warehouse, the same need but different. This was his Meg, his kitten as he’d begun to think of her, with those tempting emerald eyes. He wanted to claim her, make her his, and dare anyone to stop him.
“This time will be different,” he whispered against her cheek after ending the kiss. “I will not read about you in the broadsheets unless your name is connected to mine.”
She nodded and pulled him to her, feathering hot kisses along his jaw until claiming his lips again. Heat washed over him, and he stood, bringing her up beside him. “I had my carriage brought around, in case I found you, and you agreed to leave with me.”
Her breath caught, and Simon kissed her hand, turned it over, and placed his lips on her palm. “Come with me where there will be no eyes upon us, no wagging tongues to expose us.”
To his delight, she nodded. He took her mask from the bench, turned her body so her back was to him, and tied it in place again. They slipped from the garden and walked to the street, passing the mews.
Lady Drake paused, studying one of the coaches. “That’s not Lady Wyndam’s. She was supposed to have it sent round, so I could make my escape.”
Simon chuckled. “I’m afraid your friends were in on this ploy. When I gave them my name, they devised the plan to meet in the garden. The only carriage waiting for us is mine.”
Her mouth formed a straight line, and he knew she was upset by the deceit.
“Can you think of another way we might have come together?” he asked, nodding to his driver as they approached the front of the crescent.
She smiled, and his heart leapt. So beautiful. “No, I suppose not.” Her hand slipped into his.
So right, he thought. Simon felt as if the missing piece to his heart, to his existence, had just clicked into place. He squeezed her fingers and kissed her temple. Not an easy feat with the tricorn hat.
Once inside the carriage, comfortable against the velvet squabs, he turned to her. “You are not the type to be a mistress. Why the ruse?”
She gave a mirthless laugh. “I thought I was getting revenge against my faithless husband and men like him.”
“And what do you think now?” he asked quietly, carefully unpinning and removing her hat. His fingers trailed through the thick locks, arranging them over her shoulders. It was like silk on his skin.
“I was naïve in thinking I could change the past.” She told him of her plan—how she’d lured the three men into wanting her, then kissed them farewell, and disappeared back to Drake House. “Until you burst into my life and made me remember a passion from long ago.”
With those words, he knew they were of one mind. He kissed her again, leaning her back against the door, one hand holding her head against the jostling of the vehicle, the other stroking her side, her hip, longing to take her right here in the middle of London.
When the carriage stopped, he silently cheered.
