The Formidable Earl (Diamonds in the Rough #6) - Sophie Barnes Page 0,84
would be convenient is you, Simon. I certainly want no part of it.”
He drew a shuddering breath. “Ida. I…”
She waited for him to say more, but he couldn’t. The words were a muddled mess stuck in his throat. Her eyes glistened as she averted her gaze. A couple of tears pooled against her lashes.
“We have no future together,” she finally said, “and perhaps it would be best for us to stop pretending otherwise.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think we ought to stop sleeping together.”
It was damned hard not to flinch in response to her words. He was losing her just as surely as he’d lost Gabriella. Only this time, his heart was at stake. “Don’t do this.”
“I have to, sooner or later. Postponing the inevitable will not make it any easier to bear. Quite the opposite, I fear.
“We’ll figure out something,” he said out of sheer desperation.
A miserable smile pulled at her lips. “I don’t want to be your dirty little secret – the woman you sneak off to see behind your wife’s back. I want the sort of marriage my parents shared, and if that can’t be with you, then I’ll have to find somebody else.”
“No.” He’d be damned if he’d let another man near her.
She was his. She had to be. He just had to figure out how.
She’ll never be yours unless you put a ring on her finger.
Impossible.
“I need to think,” he said while wishing she didn’t look quite so unapproachable. What he wanted most right now was to pull her into his arms and kiss her – remind her of how good they were together. But he sensed doing so would only make things worse. So he moved toward the door instead and gave her a solemn look. “We’ll discuss how to proceed from here when I return.”
Hating the argument they’d had and what it had done to their relationship, Simon exited the house and set off at a brisk pace. His world was crumbling around him, and he couldn’t seem to stop it. Muttering a string of curses, he turned onto The Strand. How the hell could everything have gone sideways so fast? This morning he’d been lying with her in his arms and now…
He shook his head and muttered another curse.
“Ho, there. Fielding!” Simon stopped, turned, and spotted Yates. The other man was walking fast, trying to catch up. “I thought it was you. It’s been a while since we last met. How are you?”
Simon took a second to ponder his answer. So much had happened lately he scarcely knew where to begin. Words like awful, hopeless, and furious came to mind. In the end, he chose to keep it simple. “Fine. And you?”
“I gather you’ve not had a chance to read this morning’s paper yet or you would know I’ve just gotten engaged.”
Simon blinked. “To Miss Harlowe?”
“Indeed.”
They resumed walking side by side at a moderate pace. “A happy occurrence, I hope?”
Yates angled his head toward him enough for Simon to see the sparkle in his eyes and the wide smile stretching across his face. Not the traits of a man who dreaded the idea of heading for the altar. “The very happiest.”
“Then I must congratulate you, Yates. Miss Harlowe is lucky to have you.”
“And I her.” They walked a few more paces before Yates said, “I know you cautioned me against the match. In a sense you’re right about her not being countess material.”
Good God. Had he really said that out loud? “My apologies to you both. It wasn’t my place to pass judgment.”
“Perhaps not, but I know you meant well, and your concern regarding the difficulties we’ll likely face did have merit. So I took your advice.”
Simon tried to recall the details of their conversation but failed. “And what was that?”
Yates grinned. “To think things through and decide if she’s worth it.”
“And she is?”
“Oh indeed. I can easily picture my life without any more invitations to Society events, but I can’t imagine one day without her.”
“So you love her.”
“Wholeheartedly. And I’ll expect to see you at the wedding.” They reached an intersecting street and crossed to the other side. “Now, I don’t mean to pry, but Hawthorne did mention his run in with you and a certain Miss Smith at the Huntley ball. Apparently, she turned out to be Miss Strong? Exciting stuff, I must say. Hawthorne said you were quite besotted and fiercely protective of her.”
“She…” Simon struggled to find the right words “…matters to me.”