A Portrait of Love (The Academy of Love #3) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,100

spend two years—until he was twenty—at university. Once he’d done that, his brother said he could marry Bella and settle down to horse breeding if that was still on his mind.

As if Simon would ever want to do anything else.

So, he’d waited two long years.

He would miss Bella, of course, but they were in love and it would one day all be worth the wait.

In the middle of his first year at Oxford—which he’d found astoundingly enjoyable, to his surprise—the duchess gave birth to another stillborn son. The house had been a grim place of mourning when he’d gone home that summer.

He and Bella had needed to snatch bits of time here and there. On her eighteenth birthday he’d given her a diamond bracelet. He’d saved half of each of his quarterly allowances to afford it, and she had loved it. Of course she could not wear it in public—not without raising questions—but it had been a tangible token of Simon’s love.

Throughout the next year they had sent letters to each other, using devious means, becoming closer than ever.

And then, miracles of miracles, Cecily had become pregnant again.

This time, the child—a boy—appeared healthy.

But while the baby had survived, his sister-in-law had suffered some sort of injury during the birth and her already fragile health had become even worse. There would be no more children.

Simon went to Wyndham not long after his son was born.

While not elated by his decision to marry Bella, his brother had acquiesced to his plans. He’d only asked that Simon wait until Cecily was well enough to entertain before they made the official announcement.

It wouldn’t be long, he’d promised, just after Simon sat for his portrait.

Simon’s last leave-taking from Bella was burnt into his brain.

“He really said yes?” Bella asked, more than once.

Simon had laughed at her amazement. “You must have begun to wonder if I’d ever come to the sticking point. It’s just—”

Bella had nodded. “I know, Simon, your family—especially your brother—have had their share of problems.”

Simon recalled thinking that it was Cecily who’d suffered the most, but that had been an afternoon to celebrate—not to discuss his family.

But then Edward had died and Bella had married and Simon had gone to war.

Simon opened his eyes and gazed at the coffered ceiling above his head, those long-ago memories dissipating like mist.

It felt like a story he’d read—something that happened to other people. Seeing Bella had jarred everything loose—things he’d not considered in years. And, for the first time, he felt nothing when he thought of Bella and what they had once shared.

Nothing at all.

It was a different woman who took up all the space in his addled mind; a woman with cool gray eyes and a self-contained dignity that incited him. He loved his tightly-laced wife—and he loved being the only man to see her break free of those restraints.

He was, he realized, happy. Happier than he could recall being in a long, long time.

Smiling at the thought, he sighed and pulled his gaze from the ceiling. When he looked down, he saw the empty glass and bottle on his desk.

Damn and blast! How had that happened?

The clock chimed and Simon looked up, stunned: it was half-past midnight. He’d had a drink with Heyworth after dinner and had come to the library, promising to join his wife and new employee in the drawing room after a bit.

That had been almost three hours ago.

Holy Hell. Where had the time gone? He’d forgotten all about returning to the drawing room.

***

Honey heard the connecting door open but did not move. She was facing away from the door but recognized the shadow he cast across the plush carpet beside the bed. Besides, who else would be opening the door between their rooms close to one o’clock in the morning?

For a moment she thought he could come inside—perhaps come into her bed. But the door closed with a soft click.

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the blackness above her head.

Fury and shame fought for dominance in her mind and had been doing so ever since he failed to show up in the drawing room after dinner.

It would have been bad enough if he had simply abandoned her. But Mr. Heyworth had been there as well. The conversation had become more and more awkward as the other man realized Simon was not going to appear. Honoria had refused to tuck her tail between her legs and flee to her chambers. Instead, she had ordered tea when the time