concern.
Ida closed her eyes, attempted to focus her mind. “We went to the ball and…” A vision of bright lights, boisterous chatter, and violin music filled her head. “I was so excited. It was going to be a spectacular night.”
“I’m sorry, Ida.” Painful regret filled Simon’s voice. “I let you down terribly.”
She pushed her memory past the arrival at Huntley House and the point when her night had been filled with hope and expectation, then onward, past his refusal to let her dance, the quarrel they’d had about his uncle, and toward Lady Warwick’s cutting remarks. It all came back in a rush so intense, Ida almost choked in heartbroken anguish.
Turning her gaze away from his, she looked toward the window and told him stiffly, “I remember.”
“You have every reason to hate me right now, every reason to want me out of your life, but I’m hoping and praying you’ll give me another chance.”
Her eyes stung in response to the tears that threatened. “You just stood there, letting that wretched woman speak.”
“I know.”
“And when she gave you a choice between everyone’s approval and me, you failed to respond and… I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I can get over that.”
“Please. Try to understand.” Desperation tinged his words. “I couldn’t react.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was so bloody incensed, I feared I might kill her if I moved.”
It was a small consolation, Ida supposed, knowing he’d been angry on her behalf, but the fact was, “That’s not very helpful. Truth is, I have never felt more alone or abandoned than I did in that moment. I counted on you, Simon, believed in you, and needed you to at least be on my side.”
“And I am. From this moment on I swear I’ll do better.” When she simply gave him a weary sigh, he added, “There will be no more fear for my reputation or concern for what people think if they see us together. They can say what they want, I no longer care.”
“Really?” She wasn’t sure she believed him and she could see by his expression that he realized as much.
He clasped her hand. “I have never been more terrified than when I saw you lying on the ground at the bottom of those stairs, when I thought I might have…might have lost you. Ida, you’re my closest confidante, my dearest friend. I’ve shared parts of myself with you that I’ve never shared with anyone else and I… I need you to ground me and guide me, to remind me of what’s important – of the things that truly matter – like doing what’s right even when it feels like the whole world is against you, telling you that what you’re doing is wrong. I need you to help me be just as brave and courageous as you.”
His sincerity was moving. Ida just wasn’t sure she could let herself trust it. And yet…
“Everyone deserves a second chance, Simon. But be warned,” she added when she felt him relax. “It will be a while before we can get back to where we were. If doing so is even possible.”
“I know.”
When she saw how wretched he looked, the pain in her heart subsided a little and sympathy stole its way in, filling her breast. Expelling a weary sigh, she closed her eyes for a brief second before opening them once again to a squint. “My head hurts like the very devil.”
“You hit it pretty badly. There’s a nasty gash at one side, but in spite of all the blood, the surgeon has informed me it’s not so bad.”
“It must be pretty bad if it required a surgeon’s attention.” Renewed panic swept through her. She moved her arm in an effort to reach back and feel the spot he referred to, only to have him halt her movement.
“Relax. You didn’t require a surgeon, but the Duke of Redding is the most competent medical professional I know, so I sent for him to check on you. Turns out I just have to clean your wound once a day and change the bandage. Besides that, all you need is rest.”
“Now you mention it, I am quite tired.” She yawned.
“And you’ll be able to rest some more in a minute, once you’ve eaten a little and I’ve had a chance to tend to your wound. Wind your arms around my neck so I can help you sit. That’s it.” He stacked a few pillows behind her back and propped her against them. “Here, try to eat this.”
Ida