take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Gillian hesitated slightly and gazed over Lucien’s shoulder. Simon stood there , solemnly watching, alongside St. Luke’s groundskeeper , to witness their vows. Unspoken pain reflected in his eyes as their gazes locked. She could have said no . She could have turned and walked away. But she didn’t. She’d lost everything when Simon had declared himself a married man and out of her reach.
“I do,” she said, feeling numb to the marrow of her bones.
The vicar, misinformed as to the reason for their marriage, beamed excitedly . “ Then I now pronounce you man and wife.”
~~~~
November 5 th , 1801
Gillian opened her eyes and gazed down at her wedding band just as a strange fizzling sound fractured the silence .
Startled, she sprang to attention and scrambled to grab one of her pistols, sloshing water over the sides of the tub, before searching the room for the cause . Had Napoleon’s men infiltrated Simon’s townhouse? Had they found her ? Was a fuse even now being lit to engulf the room in flames, to silence her , to repay her for spoiling Fouché’s plot against Nelson ? She stifled an urge to scream and held her breath as a light blazed i n a dark corner of the room then disappeared. A glowing ember took form.
“Forgive my momentary amusement.”
Simon! Good God! Her mind struggled for thought and an unbidden heat coiled in her belly. Why was Simon skulking in the darkness like a thief? Suddenly it dawned on her. He’d come for retribution.
She blinked once, twice , willing this shameful experience to be over . “How did you get in here?” she blurted, scarcely recognizing her own voice. Had he come through the door while she’d been under water? Or had he been there from the first? That thought turned her insides molten.
“I particularly like the hiding place under your left breast.”
Her left breast? He’d seen her remove the dagger she kept hidden there? Why that meant — he’d seen everything — her short stays, shift, naked body … A nd the scars ! Highly aroused with a mixture of embarrassment and irritation, Gillian sought cover beneath the water. “How dare you!”
“ No, Gillian. How dare you ? ” he demanded , his contemptuous tone rattling her to her core . The tip of his cigar glowed red as he took another excruciatingly long puff. “I don’t know what kind of game you are playing , but my home, my wife is off limits. Do not enter my house again, unless you are invited through the front door.”
“ Again? ” she blurted, barely recognizing her own voice as she struggled with the absurdity of entering Simon’s sacrosanct domain . “ Hardly.”
“I repeat. Do not enter my house again, unless you are invited .”
She harrumphed. “ Y ou gave me no choice.”
“ No choice? W hat do you call that tub, this bed chamber , this townhouse?”
He was right. He’d given her shelter. He’d offered her a way to remain in his life, with or without his love , at a time she had nowhere else to go . She ’d been wrong to interfere. She shouldn’t have snuck into his house and confronted his wife , but h er curiosity had gotten the best of her. She couldn’t agree to help Simon or refuse to participate in Nelson’s Tea with out discovering the truth about Simon’s wife . What was it that had bound him to her ? What made it so hard to leave? N ow she knew . It was more than matrimony. More than a contract between families. He was bound by h onor , d uty. The very qualities she adored in him. And t he reality was more painful than anything she could have imagined. His wife might be dying, but Simon, good, honorable man that he was , wouldn’t leave her . He wasn’t going to throw Lady Edwina away, especially when she needed him . His morals and ethics disallowed that notorious choice .
“If you’d allow me to explain, I—”
“Wi ll sit there and let me finish,” he said with a steel-edged tone. The water cooled
Gillian hesitated slightly and gazed over Lucien’s shoulder. Simon stood there , solemnly watching, alongside St. Luke’s groundskeeper , to witness their vows. Unspoken pain reflected in his eyes as their gazes locked. She could have said no . She could have turned and walked away. But she didn’t. She’d lost everything when Simon had declared himself a married man and out of her reach.
“I do,” she said, feeling numb to the marrow of her bones.
The vicar, misinformed as to the reason for their marriage, beamed excitedly . “ Then I now pronounce you man and wife.”
~~~~
November 5 th , 1801
Gillian opened her eyes and gazed down at her wedding band just as a strange fizzling sound fractured the silence .
Startled, she sprang to attention and scrambled to grab one of her pistols, sloshing water over the sides of the tub, before searching the room for the cause . Had Napoleon’s men infiltrated Simon’s townhouse? Had they found her ? Was a fuse even now being lit to engulf the room in flames, to silence her , to repay her for spoiling Fouché’s plot against Nelson ? She stifled an urge to scream and held her breath as a light blazed i n a dark corner of the room then disappeared. A glowing ember took form.
“Forgive my momentary amusement.”
Simon! Good God! Her mind struggled for thought and an unbidden heat coiled in her belly. Why was Simon skulking in the darkness like a thief? Suddenly it dawned on her. He’d come for retribution.
She blinked once, twice , willing this shameful experience to be over . “How did you get in here?” she blurted, scarcely recognizing her own voice. Had he come through the door while she’d been under water? Or had he been there from the first? That thought turned her insides molten.
“I particularly like the hiding place under your left breast.”
Her left breast? He’d seen her remove the dagger she kept hidden there? Why that meant — he’d seen everything — her short stays, shift, naked body … A nd the scars ! Highly aroused with a mixture of embarrassment and irritation, Gillian sought cover beneath the water. “How dare you!”
“ No, Gillian. How dare you ? ” he demanded , his contemptuous tone rattling her to her core . The tip of his cigar glowed red as he took another excruciatingly long puff. “I don’t know what kind of game you are playing , but my home, my wife is off limits. Do not enter my house again, unless you are invited through the front door.”
“ Again? ” she blurted, barely recognizing her own voice as she struggled with the absurdity of entering Simon’s sacrosanct domain . “ Hardly.”
“I repeat. Do not enter my house again, unless you are invited .”
She harrumphed. “ Y ou gave me no choice.”
“ No choice? W hat do you call that tub, this bed chamber , this townhouse?”
He was right. He’d given her shelter. He’d offered her a way to remain in his life, with or without his love , at a time she had nowhere else to go . She ’d been wrong to interfere. She shouldn’t have snuck into his house and confronted his wife , but h er curiosity had gotten the best of her. She couldn’t agree to help Simon or refuse to participate in Nelson’s Tea with out discovering the truth about Simon’s wife . What was it that had bound him to her ? What made it so hard to leave? N ow she knew . It was more than matrimony. More than a contract between families. He was bound by h onor , d uty. The very qualities she adored in him. And t he reality was more painful than anything she could have imagined. His wife might be dying, but Simon, good, honorable man that he was , wouldn’t leave her . He wasn’t going to throw Lady Edwina away, especially when she needed him . His morals and ethics disallowed that notorious choice .
“If you’d allow me to explain, I—”
“Wi ll sit there and let me finish,” he said with a steel-edged tone. The water cooled
Similar Books
