Northern Rebel Daring in the Dark - By Jennifer Labrecque Page 0,123

and took his hand in hers, more for her benefit than his. She didn’t know why she was suffering this sudden attack of nerves.

“I’m so pleased to meet you.” Letitia Thackeray’s crisp British accent was far more pronounced than her husband’s.

“It’s nice to meet you, as well—” Tawny paused to smile “—although I wish it were under better circumstances.” She shifted self-consciously. Her Southern accent came across as thick as molasses in contrast to Letitia’s clipped tone. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. A little glitch in the system, but I’m going to be right as rain.” She looked from Tawny to Simon and back again.

Charles smiled at his wife. The tenderness that passed between them nearly took Tawny’s breath. Charles nodded. “It’s that way.”

“What way?” Simon asked. No one answered him. Tawny had no idea what Charles was talking about either. It was as if Charles and Letitia shared their own language.

“Oh, wonderful.” Letitia beamed at Tawny from her pillow. “Simon’s never brought a girl home to meet us before.”

Home to meet them? News flash: they weren’t exactly sitting in a drawing room sipping tea and munching crumpets. And they’d totally misinterpreted her and Simon’s relationship. Heck, she and Simon didn’t have a relationship. Talk about a wrong impression. She tried to let go of Simon’s hand.

“But—”

Instead of releasing her hand, Simon squeezed it and glanced at the monitor beeping by his mother’s bed. All righty, then. For right now they had a relationship. And it was whatever his mother wanted it to be.

Tawny smiled at the bedridden woman and hoped her smile wasn’t as weak as it felt. “Yes...well, I wish I was meeting you both under different circumstances.”

“No, dear girl.” This was moving fast—she was already a dear girl. “This is wonderful.” Letitia lowered her voice and took on a confiding tone. “Charles and I had begun to worry that he might be a bit of a poofter. You know, gay.”

This family had some serious communication issues.

Simon uttered a choking noise and his ears turned bright red. “Mum...”

“He’s definitely not,” Tawny blurted without thinking. Oh, crud. She shouldn’t have said that in such a knowing tone. Not to his parents. She, Tawny Marianne Edwards, was zipping her lip until they got out of here. She wasn’t saying another word.

Far from offended, they seemed pleased by her outburst. Charles winked at Letitia. “See, I told you it was that way.”

Tawny glanced at Simon. She saw the kindness and integrity in his brown eyes, the endearing tinge of red still burning his ears. She curled her fingers around his, his grip firm and sure. Her heart flip-flopped queerly as she realized that it was, indeed, that way.

* * *

“Simon and Tawny ran six miles to get here, Letty. And Simon’s wearing boots,” his dad said with a touch of awe and pride.

“You ran to see me?” his mother asked, a hint of wonder reflected in both her voice and her eyes.

Simon knew he was wading deeper into muck, but he’d sort it out when his mother wasn’t lying in a hospital bed connected to monitors with an oxygen tube clipped to her nose. She’d looked so bloody pleased—they both had—when they’d misconstrued his and Tawny’s relationship. And then when Tawny had looked at him as if she was somewhere beyond besotted...

“Well, not quite six miles. We managed a lift the last bit.”

“In boots?”

He would’ve never guessed that he was this important to them. Emotion clogged his throat.

“I needed to make sure you were okay.” It came out brusque and clipped.

His mother didn’t seem to mind. “That’s wonderful.”

“He’s a wonderful man. You should spend some time getting to know him,” Tawny said. Despite her soft voice, her look challenged both of his parents.

Her statement hung in the air, the bleep of the telemetry the only sound in the room. His dad stood a little straighter, his mouth pinched. No one took Charles Thackeray or Letitia Marbury to task. Simon nearly gaped when his father’s face softened and he took his wife’s hand in his.

“Perhaps you’re right, young lady. I suspect our son is rather wonderful.”

It was as close as his family had ever come to a Hallmark moment. And probably ever would. Simon was bloody close to blubbering.

It was just as well that Elliott breezed through the door, shattering the moment. “Dr. M, what are you doing here?”

What was Elliott doing here? Elliott brushed past them to hug Simon’s mother. In the meantime, Simon glanced at Tawny and murmured, “You did