He didn’t like it at all.
“She ought to at least consider his offer, don’t you think?”
“In the manner you considered Lady Isabella?” Simon barely kept himself from growling.
“Let’s not be testy.” Greystone lowered himself into one of the chairs near the hearth and laconically crossed one leg over the other. As a man who’d all but secured his bride, Greys, of course, could be casual about this.
Simon huffed.
“What’s got you in such a foul mood this morning? Surely Captain Thompson’s visit cannot have set you off like this?”
Not the man’s return so much as Violet’s unwillingness to send the coward packing.
Simon exhaled and then ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t continue on like this. You’re going to have to find yourself another butler.”
Greystone leaned forward with narrowed eyes. “You’re going to forfeit?”
“In all good conscience, I can’t keep lying to her.”
“Her?”
“Violet.”
Greystone jerked his head back, brows raised.
“I’ve… not acted honorably toward her, and it isn’t fair.” Simon felt a pain at the back of his throat. “She deserves to know the truth.”
“And by what degree, might I ask, have you dishonored my cousin?”
Simon shook his head. Greys need not hear all of the details. “Enough.”
“Then I must demand you offer for her.”
“Trouble is…” Simon laughed somewhat cynically, staring at the bookshelves behind his friend and astonished at the predicament he now found himself in. “That’s the last thing I want.”
“I’m not giving you a choice.” It wasn’t often Greystone invited confrontation, but of course, on this subject, he would.
“That’s the crux of it.” Simon lowered himself to sit adjacent to his old friend. “I want it to be my choice.” It has to be my choice.
Greys simply stared back at him, studying him, weighing Simon’s meaning. “You should have thought of that when you agreed to the wager.”
This time Simon’s fist hit a small table. He was as surprised when it shattered beside him as Greystone. This wasn’t like him. Simon didn’t lose his temper like this.
But in forfeiting the bet, Simon was conceding the choice for his bride to Greystone. And he couldn’t go on lying to Violet.
She is not going to marry Lord Captain Christopher Thompson, damnit!
But… “The woman I marry needs to know that it was my choice.”
Greys leaned forward in his chair, arms resting on his thighs, hands clasped loosely together. “In that case, we’d best call a meeting.”
“For what, another wager?” Simon asked.
Greystone laughed. “Perhaps.”
Violet burst out of the chair, not wanting to believe what she’d overheard.
Of course, she should have known that one never learned anything good while eavesdropping. But… Simon didn’t want to marry her! He was resigning from his position because he’d said he couldn’t do this any longer.
