Passions of a Gentleman (Gentlemen of Honor #3) - Rose Gordon Page 0,28

said, swatting at his shoulder.

Simon’s hand flew to his freshly swatted shoulder. “Must you wound me?”

“If you think that’s a wound, wait until you meet—”

Just then two boys of ages eight and ten, if he had to guess, came running around the side of the carriage.

“Peter and Joseph!” Rae said with a squeal, holding her arms out.

Both boys raced over to her and wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Back from London already?” the taller one asked.

“Just for a time,” Rae said.

“An’ she brought a toff,” the other boy said, crossing his arms. “You think you’re gonna marry my sister.”

“Our sister,” the other boy corrected, adopting the same defensive position as his brother.

“Perhaps,” Simon said, slowly looking both boys up and down. They appeared to be close to Seth’s age, but their reaction to him was vastly different. Seth was very eager and excited at his presence and the possibility of Simon marrying his mother, whereas these two looked like they were ready to form a mob to draw and quarter Simon just for standing next to their sister. Odd.

“All right, you two, you’ve made him quake in his boots, now go play,” Rae said, making a shooing motion with her hand.

“I’m not quaking,” Simon said flatly.

A dubious expression came over Rae's face. “Perhaps not at their threats…but at their presence.”

“I concede,” he said with a bow, garnering a giggle from Rae.

“Not to worry, Mr. Appleton,” she said in a superior tone. “After today, you’ll never feel at odds around a child again.”

“I don’t feel out of sorts now,” he said.

Rae placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Tell yourself what you must. But you cannot lie to me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he muttered, leading her up the crumbling front steps. “Do we knock…?”

“No,” she said laughingly. “Just open it. Then jump back.”

Simon eyed the door. Jump back?

Rae tried to keep a straight face and grabbed for the doorknob. More times than she could count she’d opened this door only to be greeted with shouts and chaos and flying objects. It had annoyed her to no end when Juliet was at school and she’d assumed the role as the eldest child. All of their siblings had always listened to and obeyed Juliet. Rae didn’t command the same of her siblings. Well, she did command it; they just didn’t cooperate. Now that she wasn’t living it, though, she always had an odd sense of joy and amusement when she opened the door and saw them all behave like heathens. Perhaps that was because she knew she’d be able to leave Bedlam when she was ready.

Just then, the front door swung open and a large dirt clod collided with Simon’s chest.

“What in the devil?” he muttered, touching the spot on his chest that had just been pelted, frowning.

“Cannon ball,” Rae said casually, moving to the side to avoid being run down by a small army of her younger brothers and sisters. “You should make one and throw it back at Peter.”

“But he’s—” Simon squinted at the little heathen running through the yard “—eight.”

“Fifteen,” Rae corrected.

Simon shrugged. “Either way, I can’t throw anything at him, he’ll—”

“Pelt you harder than before?” She interrupted, her lips twitching. She cocked her head to the side. “Do you bruise easily?”

Simon made a show of pursing his lips and shaking his head at her. “He’s a child. I cannot throw something at him.”

Rae bent down, picked up something from the ground, then grabbed Simon’s hand and firmly slapped the hard clump of dirt that had been hurled at him firmly into his open palm. “Throw it at it him. Quick,” she urged with a wide grin, frantically wiping her open palm against her skirts. “Before he gets too far.”

Without sparing a second for logic, Simon pulled his hand back as far as he could then threw it as hard as he could toward the group of urchins.

Both sets of eyes followed that hardened clump of dirt as it sailed through the air and collided with the back of Samuel’s head.

Immediately, Samuel’s little hand flew to the back of his head, his feet skidding to a stop. He whirled around to face Rae and Simon, pure, unadulterated astonishment stamped on his face.

“Who the devil threw that?” the little boy demanded loudly from where he stood thirty feet away from them.

Rae wanted to laugh at the astounded expression on her younger brother’s face. “He did,” she shouted the same time Simon hollered, “Her.” Each pointed a finger at