“He came here?”
“I fainted. Simon? I’ve never fainted. Not the day they told me he’d gone missing, or when I heard my parents’ ship capsized, not even when I learned they’d all died. But seeing him…”
“Are you injured?” Simon touched her head, cursing himself for not being there to catch her—to protect her. Did she need protection from Thompson? Until Simon knew, he was going to have to keep better watch over her.
“No, I fell on the grass.”
“Were you alone?”
“Only for a moment. Collette, Diana’s sister, saw me fall.” Violet stared down at her hands. “I thought he was a ghost, but she told me a gentleman had been there.”
Simon tightened his arms around her as she talked.
He should have known. And he ought to have been here. He reconsidered conceding the bet all over again. Was his honor worth risking Violet’s safety? He knew the answer before even asking the question.
“He said my name. If he’s real, if he isn’t a ghost, then I assure you he isn’t an imposter. So many things don’t make sense anymore…” Violet’s voice came out weak. “What’s the matter with me?”
“Nothing is the matter with you, sweetheart. He isn’t a ghost.” He went on to tell her all he knew about Captain Thompson—that the man had told Coventry’s men details only he could know, that he still had his family ring, and that a ship had docked that afternoon. Simon clenched his fist. She deserved the truth about everything. He needed to talk with Greystone first thing the next morning. They needed to resolve the bet as soon as possible. It wasn’t a game anymore. People stood to get hurt.
Violet stood to get hurt.
Pox on it all. If he hadn’t been so busy finalizing details for a ball, he would have realized the man had arrived in London already. Damn Coventry was going to be ecstatic at the prospect of finding his heir. But how was this going to affect Violet?
Is she’d loved the bastard once…
“You’ve had two shocks in one night,” Simon soothed.
Enough moonlight shone through the window that he could see her face, tear-streaked and so very dear to him.
“All I wanted to do was find you. And…” Her lips trembled.
“I wasn’t there.”
Her smile was a sad one. “Am I losing my mind, Simon?” The bereft look in her eyes undid him. “How did you convince Blackheart’s butler to come and perform your duties tonight? Are you holding something over him? Are you… some sort of crime boss?”
He would have laughed at that if she wasn’t being so serious. “God, no. I swear.”
“Then who are you?” Violet squeezed her eyes together as though she was terrified of what he might tell her.
“I am not a criminal. I promise you that. And you are not losing your mind. Trust me? Please? For just a little longer? I promise you that I’m not being underhanded.” But was he? He’d been lying to her all along about his position in life. And yet, he’d been himself with her.
More than he’d been with anyone in years.
“Then what is it?” She all but pleaded.
He shook his head. He needed to speak with Greystone. “It’s… a tangle that I can’t explain yet.”
She dipped her chin in a most unconvincing nod. What a mess. What a hellish mess.
This thing between the two of them was separate from everything happening around them. It was separate from the bet, from the return of a dead fiancé, and all the responsibilities awaiting him at Heart Place.
Because when her world had turned upside down tonight, she’d needed him. Simon Cockfield—not the butler, not the duke—just him.
And truth be told, he needed her. Only her.
Simon did the one thing he’d wanted to do since he’d caught sight of her on the stairs earlier that evening. He kissed her.
Speechless
