A Portrait of Love (The Academy of Love #3) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,102
He couldn’t deny he was on edge. He’d behaved badly last night and now would have to apologize. It wasn’t the act of apologizing he minded—he was willing to accept his blame—it was the subject and reason for his behavior. He’d never believed he was a drunkard, but last night he had begun drinking at dinner and then he drank and drank and drank and forgot everything else. It was mortifying.
A knock made him look up.
Honoria was in the open doorway. “I’m sorry to disturb you, my lord, but your mother has come to see you. I’ve put her in the smaller sitting room.”
“Of course, thank you.” Simon stood. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Heyworth.”
Heyworth looked up from the plans, and a small leather-bound book in which he had made some notations. “Thank you, my lord, but I had better be on my way.”
Simon went toward Honoria, who did not meet his eyes. Instead, she took a step toward the other man, turning her back to Simon. “I will show you out, Mr. Heyworth.”
He felt a spark of anger at the obvious cut, but Simon knew it was what he had earned with his behavior. The sooner he apologized, the better.
His mother smiled nervously at him when he entered the sitting room and kissed her cheek.
“I think I did something unwise,” she blurted.
“Oh?” he said, sinking into the chair across from her.
Her pale cheeks flushed. “I’m so sorry, Simon, but I’m afraid I may have mentioned your, er, past attachment to Arabella MacLeish.”
Well, he supposed that might account for part of her frosty behavior.
He smiled. “It’s fine, Mother. My past with Bella is no secret—it’s also very much in my past.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing even darker when she saw him staring at her. “I didn’t mean it the way you think, Simon. I just … well, she is a siren.”
His lips twitched at her dramatic language. “She can be somebody else’s siren,” he said drily. “We saw her yesterday, by the way.”
Her pale gray eyes, so much like Wyndham’s, widened. “We?”
“I was out riding with Honoria and Heyworth—my new steward.”
“Oh,” she said, and then asked, “And?”
“Something she said gave me the impression that Wyndham has been hard on her family.”
His mother grimaced. “Well, you know how he can be.”
“I do know. But I shan’t give them all the cut, Mama.”
“No, no, I didn’t think you would,” she said faintly, her expression saying that she’d still hoped.
“If I behave stiffly and fuel the already existing mystery around her it will only make our past a bigger subject for gossip. If I treat her like anyone else, the dust will quickly settle.”
“Yes, I suppose that makes sense.”
He chuckled at her dubious frown. “Tell Wyndham what I said, Mother. Let’s put all this behind us.”
“Perhaps you might tell him?”
“I will say something when I see him again,” he promised, not bothering to mention that he had no plans to see his brother any time soon.
What he did need to do soon was go see Bella and make sure that days like yesterday didn’t happen again.
Chapter Thirty-Four
At dinner that night it was just the two of them.
Honey had spent the day with her housekeeper, Mrs. Lowell, taking pains to avoid her husband.
Avoiding Simon wasn’t difficult as he’d saddled up Loki and disappeared almost immediately after speaking to his mother.
By the time she went upstairs to bathe and dress for dinner and he still hadn’t returned, Honey’s nerves were stretched taut. Would he come to dine? Or would he drink himself into a stupor again, letting a half hour of port stretch to four hours?
But, no, there he was—freshly groomed and looking sinful in his blacks—when she entered the dining room at eight o’clock. His blue eyes widened as he took in her gown—the golden lace confection he’d bought for her in Brighton.
He came toward her, his expression … adoring.
Honey’s pulse thudded deafeningly at the way he consumed her with his eyes.
“You look divine, Honoria.” He took both her hands and held them out, his hot gaze roaming lazily over her body, sending the predictable spirals of lust to her belly and causing a distracting aching between her thighs.
It infuriated her how was he able to disarm her with so little effort.
You love it.
Yes, she did. But that didn’t mean it didn’t infuriate her, too.
Once Hume and the footman left to fetch the first course Simon took her hand.