Passions of a Gentleman (Gentlemen of Honor #3) - Rose Gordon Page 0,34

and slapped it hard against his open palm. “Parchment.” Creating another sideways fist, he uncurled his index and middle finger and hit the bottom of his fist hard against his other palm. “Shears.”

Simon nodded his understanding.

Closing his left hand, he held out two “stones,” then converted one to “shears”. “Watch close now, toff. Stone breaks shears.” He smacked his stone against his shears then made that hand flat. “Parchment covers stone.” He brought his open hand on top of his rock. “And shears—” he converted his rock to shears— “cuts through parchment.” To emphasize his point, Peter pretend to cut his flat hand, then dropped them at his sides. “Think you can play now?”

“I’m not sure, I might require another demonstration.” Simon bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning at the unblinking lad.

“All right.” Peter’s annoyance was almost comical. “Parchment covers—”

“Stone,” Simon finished. “I don’t really need another explanation.”

“Then why did you say that you did?” the boy demanded.

“To see your jaw drop again. I think it’s a good look for you.”

Peter pursed his lips and resumed his warrior pose. “All right, show on three.”

“Three what?”

“Taps,” Peter said through clenched teeth, tapping his fist against his palm.

“Did that count as one?” Simon asked.

Peter threw his hands into the air. “Henny, it’s a good thing your toff has money because he’s lacking anything in his brainbox.”

“Now, Peter,” Rae warned at the same time Jane marched up in front of Peter, hands on her hips and declared, “He’s not Henny’s and he’s mansome, besides.”

“Thank you, Jane. It’s nice to know where one’s loyalties lie,” Simon drawled.

“At her age, they lie with anyone who has something she wants,” Samuel said with a snort.

“I imagine it’s no different at your age,” Simon said. “I work with gentlemen’s investments all day and I hate to tell you that never goes away.” He put his hands into the proper stone, parchment, shears position and said, “I also hate to tell you when I was a boy we called this game Rochambeau—and I was unbeatable.”

“Unbeatable?” Peter asked in disbelief. “It’s a game of luck.”

Simon lifted one shoulder in a lopsided shrug. “Think what you wish. Now let’s play.”

One hour and more than one hundred victorious matches later, Simon was lauded the King of Rochambeau.

“Why did you pretend you didn’t know how to play?” Rae asked as they walked back to the house.

“At first I didn’t know what they were talking about,” he admitted. “But then, it was too fun to see their reactions. You’re right, children will believe anything.”

“Indeed, and now you’re their hero.”

His jaw dropped. “That’s what it takes to be their hero?”

“Mmmhmmm,” she said, slowly bobbing her head up and down.

“And yours?”

“I shan’t tell!”

13

To Simon’s great relief, the next couple of days went by with the speed of a stallion at Ascot and it was finally the day of the fair. Were he made to spend any more time with Rae’s family he might find himself becoming one of them! Not that that would be such a bad thing, mind you. Her brothers, though younger than him, were actually rather fun. Rae’s sisters might have put him off at first with their unbridled, girlish romantic interest in him, but that wasn’t so bad.

Simon had always liked Lord Drakely when their paths had crossed. He wasn’t so sure about Lady Drakely and her blatant attempts to put Simon and Rae together as often as possible at first, but after a few days of her antics, he was rapidly becoming accustomed to having her around, too.

And then there were their girls. Miranda and Laura, the twins who were so young they could hardly walk across the room without falling, spent most of their day in the nursery. Though not quite as zealous as Rae’s sisters, Kate, who was of the advanced age of eight had similar expectations: a sweeping bow and a kiss on the knuckles by way of greeting—even if he’d only left the room for a matter of minutes.

“Does the prospect of a little fair frighten you so?” Rae teased, coming into the drawing room where Simon was waiting.

Simon stood. “Not at all.” He made a show of looking over her shoulder at the three little girls who stood in the hall waiting for their mama and papa then dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “It’s all the young ladies vying for my affections. I just don’t know which one to choose.”

“Is that so?” Lord Drakely drawled, strolling into the room.