“Just that: ‘Oh, Simon.’ It is all I can say when I am overwhelmed by your audacity.”
He stilled his feet but wasn’t prepared to release her just yet. “Would you care to see the bathing pool now?”
She stood in his arms, her hand moving from his shoulder to his neck, and tipped her head back with parted lips, offering an invitation he wasn’t about to refuse.
Odd that a simple kiss could ignite him most inconveniently at the same time it made him feel as though he’d come home.
Her lips were tender, caught between his teeth. He inhaled, breathing the same air she did.
“Oh, Simon.” She lifted onto her toes so she could deepen the kiss.
He should tell her. If he gave up the bet, he could court her publicly. But if he gave up the bet, he’d be at Greystone’s mercy.
And he’d never been one to shirk a bet, so he wasn’t exactly eager for his friend to make special allowances. Only a few weeks remained in the Season.
Simon slowly released her.
“I don’t know what I’m thinking.” Violet touched her hand to her hair.
“The same thing I am,” he said.
When he moved to slide his wrist back into his sling, Violet took over and adjusted it for him. “Did the doctor tell you when you could return to your normal activities?”
“One more week.” He cleared his throat. “But it’s much better now.”
“It still pains you.”
Simon grimaced. “I don’t mind pain.”
“But there is something. What is it?”
The injury had served as a constant reminder that he’d failed to help one of his friends, and in the end, Mantis had nearly been killed for it. Would matters have come about differently if Simon hadn’t been trying to be two people at the same time?
“Nothing.” Simon straightened his shoulders.
“Hm… I wish I could read your mind.”
“I just…” Simon began. “I wasn’t the only person injured. It shouldn’t have happened.” He turned her in the direction opposite the stairs. “The bathing pool is this way.”
He left the subject behind by telling Violet a few general anecdotes from his youth that wouldn’t give himself away. After he’d shown her all the interesting chambers downstairs, he led her up the grand stairwell. He’d known Violet to be a good listener from the times they’d spent together already, but he was learning that she was also clever and intuitively sensitive.
Running her hand along the banister, she sighed. “The wood has burn scars. It must be original from before the fire as well. Do you think it’s difficult for him to live here? With constant reminders of the tragedy that killed his parents?”
Simon swallowed hard, taken aback by her question. “He… I think he made enough changes so that there weren’t constant reminders.”
“But not so many that he would never forget.”
“Yes,” he agreed.
“Do you know how many bedchambers there are?” she asked. “And, yes, I mentioned the word bed.” She rolled her eyes at him.
She made him laugh when a moment ago he’d been damn near tears.
“Thirteen,” Simon answered. “The original home boasted twenty, but when… Blackheart had the pipes installed, he decided on quality over quantity. As a result, the pipes extend upstairs into the attic so the servants have modern conveniences as well.”
“Thoughtful of him. I like that. But with only thirteen chambers, I suppose he does his serious entertaining in the country.” She smiled over at him as they arrived on the upper landing.
“If he entertained much, I imagine you would be right. Crescent Park is near Sussex and boasts nearly forty chambers. Although most have been closed up for decades.”
