“Most definitely not,” he said. Which was no less than the truth. But then he reached out to take her hand. “You heard.”
“About… Captain Thompson?” She nodded. “I did. But how did you?”
“You forget, servants hear everything first.” And he had his own sources, much more accurate sources. “It upset you.”
“Hearing the news that my dead fiancé has been alive these past ten years?” The sound she made wasn’t quite a laugh. “Not at all. Happens all the time.” But then she covered her mouth, her eyes large. “I don’t know what to think, Simon. I don’t know what I should feel. It’s not really possible, is it?”
He didn’t want to give her false hope. Was that what it would be? Because she had loved the man once, enough to give him her innocence.
But the return of a duke’s only heir was prone to be complicated—especially one who might have defected from his unit.
But what did the news mean for her? “Is that something that would make you happy?” he asked.
“Of course it is. Shouldn’t it be? What kind of a woman would I be to wish otherwise?” She stared down at the coverlet on the bed.
The last thing he’d wanted to do was upset her. “Slide over.”
“What?”
“I’m joining you. Two days is too long for me to go without holding you.” Not even hesitating, she pulled back her cover so Simon could slip in beside her. “Other than the upsetting news about Thompson, did you enjoy yourself?”
“The company was lovely, but the music could not have been worse. Greystone was smart to have absented himself. It seems he’s going forward with this courtship and…”
Simon stroked his hand down her arm. “You don’t approve of it?”
“Greystone spent the evening with Lord and Lady Huntly—and Lady Isabella, so my approval is a moot point. And she’s positively lovely, but I’m not sure she’s the right person for him to marry. He’s been acting odd ever since he announced his intentions to court her.”
Simon kept silent for a moment. Because, as a butler, he couldn’t disclose private matters pertaining to his employer. Nonetheless, the woman already worried too much.
“Hold off on your worry.” He stared at the shadows dancing on the ceiling as she twisted in his arms.
“What do you know?” But then she settled against his side, placing one hand flat on his chest. “No, don’t tell me. That isn’t a fair question to ask of you.”
Simon exhaled. Because not ten minutes ago, he’d escorted a young woman who most definitely was not Lady Isabella upstairs to Greystone’s observatory. And the visit had not had the appearances of a platonic one.
“Where marriage is concerned,” Violet said, burrowing closer to Simon. “My cousin insists love not be a part of the equation. And I understand his reasoning. But I think that perhaps there must be some sort of affection between husband and wife. Did your parents love one another?”
Simon swallowed hard. She was asking questions about his family—about love.
“They did.” It had been an arranged marriage, but his mother and father had grown to love one another.
“It is more common for the middle class, is it not? For marriages to be entered into for affection rather than convenience?”
“Yes.”
“But you never married,” she sighed.
“You didn’t marry either. Did you love him?” Simon turned so he could face her.
She was quiet, and he almost began to think she wasn’t going to answer. “I’m not sure. I thought I did, but it was so long ago.”
“It’s possible he could return.” Simon refused to keep more from her than he needed to. “The witness is… credible.”
“Just as I’m not going to worry about Lady Isabella and Greystone, I’m not going to worry about Captain Thompson.” She swirled her finger over his chest, his nipples tightening at her touch. “I’d rather we spend our time… discussing more pleasant topics.”
“Such as?” Simon inhaled the scent of her hair.
“Did you always want to go into service, then?”
