Page 68 of The Duke of Ruin
“I’m not sure whether to be relieved or insulted,” she murmured.
He swung his gaze to hers. “What did I say?”
She touched his arm. “It doesn’t matter. I was trying to bring a bit of humor, but that wasn’t well done of me.”
He appreciated her concern so much. He still didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her. “I will also choose humor over depression. However, sometimes it’s difficult.” That was more than he’d ever admitted to anyone.
She rubbed his forearm reassuringly. “I know you meant to have me tour the house when we arrived, but I think I’d rather go directly to our apartments to rest. Will that be all right?”
Once again, she’d anticipated what he wanted. “How do you do that?” he asked softly.
“Do what?” The question seemed guileless, but surely, she knew.
“Know what I need, sometimes even before I do?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve come to know you. We’ve spent a great deal of time together.”
Yes, they had. And he was grateful for every moment.
Simon signaled for Lowell to come back over and informed the butler of their plans. He asked that they not be disturbed and that dinner should be ready at seven.
Then he turned toward the stairs and faltered. His mouth went dry as he stared at the place where Miriam had fallen. All he could see was the blood on the floor—long gone now—trickling from the wound on her head. He didn’t remember the fall and was glad for it. He could well imagine the horrible sound she would have made, and having the actual memory in his mind would be another torture.
Diana took his arm and gave him a gentle squeeze. Then she started walking.
Simon focused on the stairs in front of him and wiped his mind blank. He moved quickly, probably climbing too quickly for her, but he couldn’t help it. He rounded the corner at the landing and practically ran up the last set of steps.
When they reached the top, he slowed, but she was also tugging on his arm. “I can’t go that fast. I might trip.”
He froze for a moment, an ice-cold terror gripping him as he glanced back toward the stairs. He pulled her forward, away from the top step, and led her to the left around the railing that looked down over the stairs. He stared at her a long moment, torn between wanting to crush her against his chest and running away from her before he caused another tragedy.
She cupped his face. “Breathe with me, Simon. I’m fine. You’re fine. They are stairs. We will need to use them every day. Unless you’d like to undertake some refurbishments and move our bedchamber downstairs. I would be happy to support that.”
She would? Of course she would. She’d been nothing but thoughtful when it came to his despair—from seeing his reaction to the Taft children in Brereton to understanding his fear of his own bloody staircase.
“Which way is our room?” she asked softly.
Simon shook himself from the darkness of his mind and gestured to the right. “In the back corner.” He took her hand, needing the warmth and pressure of her touch.
He led her into the apartments. “This is the sitting room,” he said rather unnecessarily. “I usually take breakfast in here.” He tried not to think of the breakfasts he’d shared with Miriam. He could picture her sitting at the desk in front of the window, writing a letter to her mother.
Blinking rapidly, he went into the bedchamber. It was completely different from the last time he’d seen it. He’d instructed Nevis to oversee its refurbishment. Everything was new—from the paint to the bed to the carpet. Before, it had been blue. Now it was green. In fact, the bed hangings reminded him of Shakespeare’s room at Beaumont Tower. Good, that was a far better memory.
He didn’t know how long he stood there staring at the changes, but he didn’t stir until Diana touched his back. “Simon?”
He turned his head. “Mmm?”
“Is this all right? My being here?”
“Where else should you be?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I could take another bedroom.”
He shook his head. “No. Unless that’s what you want.”
“I’ve been sharing a bed with you for weeks now. Those few days we slept apart from Beaumont Tower to Gretna were rather vexing.” She gave him a captivating look, her eyes sparkling and her lips just barely curving up at the corners.
He relaxed slightly, appreciating her efforts to keep the darkness at bay. “This room will be fine. I asked Nevis—my steward—to oversee refurbishments to several rooms since…since Miriam died.” It was, he realized, the first time he’d uttered her name to Diana.
