Page 48 of The Duke of Ice
“You lied. You said you tripped and that I saved you.”
“I’ll say whatever I need to in order to keep those harpies at bay. You don’t deserve their condemnation.” He kept walking, and she continued at his side. “Nick and I will make this right—don’t worry.”
“Nick?” He glanced toward her. “You and Nick are going to fix this.” His skepticism weighed the air around them. “You can’t find your way to be together, but you can join forces on my behalf? I find that difficult to believe.”
“We’ve actually been doing it all week. The ballroom games were my idea. I wanted everyone to see the man I see.”
They’d reached the end of the nave, and Simon took her hand from his arm. He gave her a sad smile. “The man you see is a façade. Or a shell. Or something in between. You can’t fix this. Nick can’t fix this. No one can.” He turned and left, his long legs carrying him from the cathedral as if the very devil were chasing him out.
Violet watched him go, her throat tightening with sadness. That had been an unmitigated disaster. Nothing was turning out as she’d planned or hoped. She wished she could run from the cathedral after him.
Instead, she decided to take advantage of her surroundings and pray.
Chapter 10
The buzzof conversation as soon as Simon and Violet had walked half the distance of the nave grew to the point that Nick was forced to walk away from it. Or maybe he just wanted to go after Simon.
What the hell had just happened? His first impression at seeing Simon bent over Violet was that they were having some sort of intimate moment. Simon’s face had reflected concern, and he’d touched her in a way that Nick hadn’t dared—not in eight years anyway.
But then he acknowledged they wouldn’t be engaged in anything romantic in plain sight on the bloody landing of a staircase in a cathedral. One of those gossiping old hens had the right of it—Violet had fallen. However, there was no way in hell Simon had pushed her.
Especially given the way she’d leapt to his defense. She’d clutched his arm, holding him with great care. Seeing them together sent tendrils of jealousy curling through him.
He watched Violet and Simon stop at the end of the nave. Simon said something, then left. Nick didn’t think before stalking toward where Violet now stood alone.
His intent hadn’t been to speak to her, but to follow Simon. Nevertheless, he stopped at her side. “What the hell just happened?”
“You saw. You heard.” Her voice was cool, detached.
“Yes, I saw. Is there something between the two of you?”
She turned to face him, her eyes blazing. “That is none of your business. Your friend is in pain. You heard what those awful women said.”
Yes, he had. He needed to go after Simon. He strode from the cathedral and went to his horse, unsurprised to see that Simon’s was already gone. He set off in pursuit, racing out of town toward the Linfords’ manor. As he crested a hill nearly halfway to his destination, he caught sight of Simon’s mount near a slender brook.
Slowing his horse, Nick veered off the road and guided the beast toward the water. Simon sat on a rock, his gaze trained at some indeterminate point beyond the stream.
Nick dismounted, his thoughts jumbled. He didn’t really believe there was something between Simon and Violet, and she was right—his friend needed him right now.
Simon didn’t turn his head. “Why did you follow me? I’m fine.”
“It should be obvious. I’m your friend. I can’t imagine you’re fine.”
“I’m as fine as you are.” Simon stood from the rock. He clasped his hat with one hand, and the wind stirred his hair. “You’re turning your back on something most people would die for.”
Nick knew how much Simon had loved his wife, how badly he missed her, and how devastating her death had been. Or still was, it seemed. The torment in his friend’s gaze flayed him. “You mean you,” he said quietly, and he was afraid the wind had carried the words away.
Simon’s dark eyes glittered in the sunlight filtering through the mottled clouds. “Yes, I would die if it would bring Miriam and my unborn child back. You have a bloody second chance. But you’d rather toss it away. Violet is an incredible woman. You’re a fool.”
“Perhaps you should pursue her. She’s everything you want in a wife—mature, widowed, experienced. She’s intelligent, witty, and she clearly cares for you.” Nick couldn’t keep the jealousy from stealing into his voice. He was supposed to be helping Simon, not being an ass.
With a slight shrug, Simon turned his head toward the brook. “Maybe I should. She deserves to be happy, and I sense she’s not.”
White-hot anger crested in Nick’s chest, but he’d had too much practice in managing his emotions. He tamped it down while reason told him that Simon was merely provoking him. Or deflecting from the real issue.
Nick took a deep breath and willed his pulse to slow. “Let me worry about Violet.” Did he really plan to do that? He couldn’t think of that just now. “You mustn’t let what happened in the cathedral drag you into darkness.”
“Why? Then you’d have company.”
