Passions of a Gentleman (Gentlemen of Honor #3) - Rose Gordon Page 0,31

a fan.

“Truly?” Simon asked.

Rae fisted her hands in her skirts so she wouldn’t smack him!

“Yah,” Mama said with a laugh. “She always had to recline at a forty-five degree angle and Mr. Hughes would have to drag her away to get her to go outdoors.”

“It would have been tragic to have gone to London with sunspots,” Rae said with a forced smile.

Mama and Papa both scoffed while Simon’s eyes softened. Rae broke eye contact with him. She could appreciate his concern, but didn’t want to invite questions later.

“I suppose it worked,” Papa said, oblivious to Rae’s discomfort. He shook his head. “And yet, she pales at the thought of marrying you.” He swiped the back of his greasy hand over his forehead. “My wagon isn’t going to fix itself.” Then, without another word Papa stalked out the door, Mama on his heels, taking the tension they’d stirred up within Rae with them.

“That was odd,” Simon said without ceremony when the door banged shut behind her parents.

“You aren’t saying my parents are odd, are you?” Rae teased.

“No!” Simon cleared his throat. “Er…no, I didn’t mean to imply anything of the sort.” He raked his hand through his hair. “If we were in London, we’d be officially betrothed now.”

Rae waved her hand through the air, forcing a shrug. “What is it Brooke is always saying about rules being more relaxed in the country?”

Simon shook his head ruefully. “Not like this.”

“Oh?”

“Had someone happened upon us sharing the sofa together, even at a house party, we’d be betrothed.” He tilted his head to the side. “You’ve attended a house party before, no?”

Rae shook her head. “That was Papa’s only request. That I not be allowed to attend a house party.”

“I see,” Simon said slowly; his expression belied his words.

Rae shifted uncomfortably. “Papa feels as if his say regarding me has been stolen, with Drake acting as my guardian.” She bit her lip. Though it infuriated Papa to no end, it was for the best that Drake be her official guardian. He knew far more about London Society than anyone with the last name of Hughes. He also had been the one to set up a dowry for her.

“That’s why he didn’t demand we wed when he saw us together,” Simon said slowly, bringing her to present.

Rae nodded. “He has no power to make such a demand on my behalf.”

“But he does on mine!” squealed Jane with a wide smile.

Simon and Rae both laughed.

“Indeed, he does,” Rae agreed. She idly tapped her index finger against her lips and squinted at Simon. “But are you sure you’d want him?” She dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “He’s so much older than you.”

“I don’t care,” Jane said with a shrug. “He’s mandsome.”

“Is that all you think about?” Rae teased her sister.

“No. But it sure helps.” She held her hand out toward Simon, wiggling her fingers. “Now if only he knew how to treat a lady.”

Simon’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he reached for Jane’s dirty hand. He leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her knuckles, making both Jane’s and Simon’s cheeks flush—presumably for different reasons.

“Perfect,” Rae said. “Now that Simon has been properly instructed how to greet you forevermore, why don’t you go find a few others and bring out a game for us all to play.”

Jane scampered off before Rae had finished her sentence.

“Game?”

Rae narrowed her eyes on the peculiar man in front of her. “You are familiar with games, are you not? Chess? Draughts? Tin soldiers?”

Simon pursed his lips. “Yes, I’ve played chess and draughts before.” He playfully wagged a finger at her. “But I have the oddest feeling it won’t be either of those games that little girl will return with.”

“Likely not,” Rae agreed, trying in vain to keep her features impassive. “But whatever they bring, you will play.” She lightly jabbed her index finger into his shoulder. “And enjoy.”

Just as Simon predicted, it wasn’t the pieces to chess or draughts that Jane held in her hands when she returned. No, it was a large, slightly misshapen ball. “Let’s play bowls!”

12

Oh gads. Anything but lawn bowls. Simon hated, nay detested, lawn bowls. A game with less importance he couldn’t name. Except perhaps pall mall. He shuddered.

“Don’t act so excited, Simon,” Rae teased laughingly, taking the bowl from her sister.

“I’m glad I can amuse you,” he drawled as a sticky little hand latched onto his palm. His first instinct was to pull his hand away and go in search of the nearest basin of