“Men like dirt under their nails.”
“Some men,” she qualified thinking of Lord Pepper and his white hands and neatly shaped nails.
Claire sighed as once again, he fell silent. “I’m sorry, Simon, for getting you into this mess, but it is done, and now we need to discuss how to break our betrothal.”
He looked at her, his emotions hidden by his unreadable expression.
“We will wed.”
“You are not thinking clearly, Simon.”
“I think the fact that I have slept the past few nights and you have not, qualifies me as the one who is thinking clearly, don’t you, Claire?”
Claire knew he had not meant to hurt her by bringing up her own failings, yet he had. Lifting her hands, she shook them briskly. “I have managed to make rational decisions with little sleep before, my lord, I’m sure I can do so again.”
“Claire–”
Ignoring him, she stepped off the box, and, picking up her gloves, she then
walked away, leaving him standing there with his hands in the dirt, eyes burning like hot embers into her back.
Claire did not see Simon again that evening. She bathed a reluctant Louis, who had suddenly found his voice and was cursing like a French sailor. She persisted, and finally, a clean little boy emerged.
“Surely you feel better now, Louis, with all that grime washed from your body?” Claire rubbed him dry and then dressed him in the old nightshirt a maid had given her. She wondered if it had belonged to Simon.
“Non.”
She laughed at his belligerent expression and then began to brush the tangles from his hair, producing more curses, which, she pointed out gently, were not nice to say at any time. Soon he was clean, and she tucked him into bed. They ate on trays, and Claire sat with him, telling him some of the stories she remembered from her youth until his eyes grew too heavy, and he fell asleep. Tonight they would both miss Simon and his big presence sprawled out below them on the floor.
Her room was next door, so she bathed and pulled on her nightdress, too, and then lay on her bed. There was little chance of any sleep tonight. Memories of her nights spent in Simon’s arms made her sad. She would never have them again, so she pushed the thoughts aside and made plans.
She would leave for London early, without anyone knowing. She would confront her brother and tell him of her faux engagement, and that it was her fault entirely that Simon had offered for her. She would then come here and gather up Louis and make their home at her brother’s estate. Mathew would not force her from his home. She knew him well enough for that, yet he would never welcome Louis to London, and neither would their mother. Therefore, her life would be in the country from this day forwards. She would not wed, nor live in society, and although she would miss her friends, she would not miss many aspects of the life she now led.
She let the thoughts come and go as the hours ticked by until she was sure the household was asleep; only then did Claire leave her bed and pull her shawl around her shoulders. Taking her candle, she made her way to the end of the hall, where Simon’s aunt had told her the library was. There was a chill in the air that made her wish for slippers, but if she kept to the rugs, it was not so bad. Studying the books upon reaching the library, she found a section on gardening and smiled, wondering if Simon had read each one. Thinking of him made her chest hurt, so she moved on to the next shelf.
“If I may suggest Health and Good Will to Your Roses. I’ve always found that excellent bedtime reading.”
He was leaning against the doorframe, looking rumpled and handsome. However this time, he had thankfully pulled on a shirt, although his large feet were bare and the shirt buttons done up wrong. Claire forced herself to ignore the flutter in her chest and turned to once again look at the books. Drawing in a deep breath, she tried to steady herself before speaking. “Go back to bed, Simon.”
“Have you slept at all?”
“Please, go back to bed, Simon,” Claire tried again.
“Surely you know by now that I am not good at taking orders, Claire.”
She knew he was getting closer because somehow she could feel him. “There is no need for both of us to be tired in the morning, Simon. Besides, I am used to the condition. You are not.” Claire made her tone light, when inside, she was suddenly tense and nervous. So much had changed between them today–in the last few days–and now she was uncertain around him.
“Actually, I have already had several hours’ sleep.”
Surprised, she faced him. “You could sleep with all those thoughts rolling around inside your head?” Claire was jealous. She had often wanted to somehow stop her thoughts for just a few hours–long enough to get some sleep. It seemed the only time she could truly do that was in this man’s arms.