Passions of a Gentleman (Gentlemen of Honor #3) - Rose Gordon Page 0,10

and then when the older man swung a rolled up newspaper in his direction, intent on slaying the winged intruder.

“All right, Appleton. Last question: do you require any particular amenities.”

“Amenities?” Simon echoed. He was interested in leasing bachelor’s holdings, not hosting a ball. “No.”

Nelson looked up from his desk and shook his head. “I’ll just jot down a few that my other clients in your position enjoy.”

Simon didn’t know what to make of Nelson’s cryptic statement, so he ignored it. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

“I’ll find you something no sooner than the twentieth.” He dropped his quill on his desk and folded his hands. “Likely it’ll be the first of next month before you could move in.”

“Brilliant,” Simon muttered. That was almost three weeks away.

Nelson smacked his newspaper down on the edge of his desk. “That’s what you get,” he said, scowling at the dead fly. He tossed the newspaper down on the floor next to his desk. “Is your mother being impossible?”

Simon stiffened. He might not be pleased with his mother currently, but he had no wish to discuss her in any capacity to Nelson.

“No matter,” Nelson said with a flick of his wrist. “You could always stay for a spell at Swenson’s.” He held Simon’s gaze. “They’re discreet.”

Swenson’s was a boarding house not too far from the lending library. For as much as he didn’t wish to go back to his parent’s house, it would only stir up more gossip if it were to be revealed that Simon had taken up residence in a boarding house. Sure, plenty of bachelors did so while waiting for a townhouse to rent. But most of them hadn’t garnered nearly as much attention about their previous romantic interludes, or lack thereof, as Simon.

“Thank you,” Simon said, standing. He put his felt hat back on his head and nodded to Mr. Nelson. “I’ll come back in ten days.”

Leaving Mr. Nelson’s office, Simon made his way in the direction of nowhere in particular when the chime of a distant church bell arrested his attention. The corners of his eyes crinkled on their own accord. He should go pay a call on Miss Hughes.

For some odd reason she had a very strong dislike for him.

For an even odder reason he rather enjoyed provoking her.

Oh, whom was he trying to fool? He knew exactly why she didn’t like him: he’d seen her nearly naked—and just because that had happened three years ago, he vividly remembered every single detail. He swore under his breath. Such lusty thoughts could get a man in trouble, or at the very least make it uncomfortable to walk down the street.

Too late for that.

He yanked at the bottom of his coat in a futile attempt to cover his body’s reaction to the memory.

Now that he’d reminded himself of why she didn’t like him, it still didn’t explain why he enjoyed provoking her so. Not that he’d truly provoked her.

He turned the corner, his mind going back to a time a month ago when he’d borne witness to what could only be described as the most uncomfortable conversation to ever grace a London drawing room…

It had all started when Simon had tried to be a friend to the only friendless debutante of the Season: Isabelle Knight. He’d danced with her at balls and paid her calls every so often. One such day he decided to pay her a call was after news that her estranged husband had come back to Town and made a scene.

Simon would have never imagined the reprobate would have had the brass to call upon Isabelle. But when he did, Simon did the first thing he could think to do: pretend to ask Isabelle her opinion on a poem he’d written to give to a certain young lady. Which, just to make clear, he had not actually written.

It was then that he and Lord Kenton sat spellbound while Isabelle and Lord Belgrave sharped their claws on each other:

“I was wondering if Mr. Appleton here would be kind enough to read aloud his poem or ode or whatever it is that he gave you so that I, too, might know what to say to make a lady swoon with delight.”

Isabelle pursed her lips, fire Simon had never seen before flashing in her green eyes. “I doubt there is anything you could say to a young lady to make her swoon with delight.”

“Why, Belle, I had no idea you thought I was so charming that all I have to