Passions of a Gentleman (Gentlemen of Honor #3) - Rose Gordon Page 0,22

Perhaps she wasn’t exactly eleven, but she looked close enough in age to Seth, Lucy’s son. Simon’s throat grew tight and he forced his attention away from her.

Unfortunately, Rae picked up on his sudden unease and cocked her head to the side.

Simon dropped his eyes to the floor; memories of a curious and talkative Seth filled his mind. From the moment the two had met, Seth had been full of questions and never at a loss for words. At first Simon had found it amusing. Then, it had become troubling. He didn’t know what to say to the boy when he peppered him with questions about everything from Simon’s family to what was in custard. How the hell was Simon—or anyone who wasn’t a cook—supposed to know what was in custard? All Simon knew was it was one of his favorite foods.

The carriage rocked over another rut. Lord Drakely muttered a curse while the five females in the carriage either squealed or shirked. But most disturbing was that the girl beside Simon had somehow lost her death grip on the velvet cushions and one hand clasped tightly to Simon’s knee. He’d never admit such, but the girl was strong. Or perhaps the unbelievably sharp pain emanating from where those five talons dug into the skin around his knee was clouding his judgment a fraction.

“Are you all right, Mr. Appleton?” asked the wide-eyed little girl on Lord Drakely’s lap.

Not trusting his voice, Simon nodded. If this girl dug any harder, he’d require stitches. Even worse was the fear of jerking his leg away—would she rip his knee clean off? Or merely have her feelings hurt? Either way, he couldn’t risk it.

“Consider it part of your initiation,” Rae said, fighting a smile. “We’ve all been branded.”

Lord and Lady Drakely both nodded wordlessly.

Lady Drakely tucked a tendril of her raven hair behind her ear. “It might help if you shift—”

“Celia, if you want Mr. Appleton to take notice of you, you’re going about it in the wrong way,” the middle daughter said matter-of-factly, rendering everyone in the carriage speechless—presumably all for different reasons.

Immediately, the little girl released the rabbit trap she’d set on Simon’s knee and recoiled into the cushions, her face flushing dark red.

Another sort of pain grabbed hold of Simon now. He hadn’t meant to hurt her or cause her embarrassment, but he was at a complete loss of what to say to the girl. Instead, he stared at her a minute, then stared helplessly at the others.

In hushed tones Lady Drakely admonished the outspoken little girl for embarrassing her sister. Rae mouthed something to him, but he’d never been good at reading lips and instead turned his attention to Lord Drakely and his hard, steely stare. Just as quickly, he pulled his gaze away. Perhaps the floor was a safer choice.

Fortunately for him, he didn’t have to feign interest in the designs in the wood for long and with one more gut-wrenching slam forward the carriage came to a halt.

“Oh, for gracious’ sakes,” Lady Drakely muttered.

Not waiting for the coachman to open the door and rescue them all from their unbearable silence, Lord Drakely reached over to the door and swung it open. “Girls, down.”

Without any further instructions, all three of the little girls scampered out of the carriage. Lord Drakely was down next. He stood by the door of the carriage and reached up to help his wife descend.

Once she was down, Simon climbed out of the carriage and offered Rae his hand.

“Where shall we start?” Lady Drakely asked.

“The confectionary,” said Kate, leading her middle sister to jump up and down in agreement.

“All right,” Lady Drakely said, reaching for the two girls’ hands. “How about if we drag your papa to the confectionary while Aunt Henrietta and Mr. Appleton go pay Mr. Edwards a visit.”

“Mr. Edwards?” Simon asked, offering his arm to Rae.

She placed her fingers in the crook of his arm. “The tailor.”

Lord Drakely offered his arm to his eldest daughter and fell in line with the rest of his family.

“I have a feeling Mr. Edwards isn’t the man you have set your cap on,” Simon mused when her family was out of earshot.

Rae snorted. “Not at all.”

“Then which shop shall we actually be paying a visit?”

“Mr. Edwards’ shop,” Rae said quietly.

Simon reached his free hand across his chest and covered her hand with his. “Oh, that shall be just lovely,” he said in the most noble tone he could muster, lifting his nose in the air as