“He is not, presently.” Servants gave tours of vacant private homes all the time so it was not all that extraordinary.
“I’ll admit I am rather curious as to what sort of manor houses a swimming hole.”
Simon smiled at the image of a muddy pond. “Not a swimming hole, a swimming bath.”
“Forgive me,” she laughed. “But, yes. I would very much like to see it.”
“In that case, you must allow me to take you there. I’ll arrange it for the day after tomorrow—after you’ve ordered your bathing costumes.”
“I’d like that.”
Simon lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against it, and turned to catch her eye. “As would I.”
It wasn’t that he needed to impress her by showing her the manor, but he wanted her to have a glimpse into his other life.
The other part of him.
And that made no sense at all. Because this was only temporary. He was a convenient servant and she an unmarried, independent woman with a mind of her own.
It was oddly freeing. But also…
Humbling.
Before they reached the entrance to the house, Simon took advantage of the privacy provided by the darkness and claimed her mouth once more. After kissing her speechless—breathless—he walked her the last few feet to the edge of the garden.
“I’ll make my way upstairs alone.” She stopped before he could escort her into the main part of the house. And as though he was returning her to her chaperones after a lively set, she curtsied and blushed. “Thank you for a most pleasant evening.”
He bowed and then froze, torn between honoring her request that she return to her room alone and his own instinct to escort her.
“I will be fine,” she said, backing away. “Please.”
Because now, more than ever, she would fear giving rise to suspicions. And it was right to be cautious.
Simon inhaled. And then… “Very well.”
She was correct in that this must remain a secret. Because whether he’d intended to take matters this far or not, Simon had just embarked on an affair with Greystone’s cousin—a secret affair.
With a woman who believed he was a butler.
Simon scrubbed his hand down his face.
This was beyond reckless, and he felt as though he’d just stepped into a minefield. But it wasn’t really. She was a grown woman, he reminded himself.
And he… had no choice but to go on allowing her to know him as Mr. Cockfield. He couldn’t reveal the truth, not without welching on the bet and getting himself into further hot water with his friend.
But also, if he was being totally honest with himself, he had no desire to turn back.
Not yet.
This Blackheart Fellow
“You are unusually quiet today,” Bethany commented as she and Violet watched their younger charges stand for their bathing costume fittings.
“Wool-gathering,” Violet answered. But, in truth, her mind had returned to the interlude in the garden hut repeatedly. Not only what they’d done, how he’d touched her, but the intimacy of their conversation afterward.
Rather than feel exposed, she’d felt…
Worshiped. And when it was over, he had been…
