“It’s unlocked!” he heard James say, relief in his voice as the door swung fully open and revealed James, Graham and the Viscount Baxton, a distant friend of their group. Also one of the most gossipy gentleman in Society. All three of them stopped and stared as they saw Simon standing in his little blanket and nothing else.
Graham’s eyes narrowed and Lord Baxton’s widened. James stepped forward, his expression uncertain. “Thank God, Simon. We were worried sick. Is Meg with you?”
“Yes,” Simon said slowly. “We were caught out in the storm. I had to bring her here, she was soaked to the bone and—”
Before he could finish, the bedroom door opened and all the men pivoted to face it as Meg stepped into the main hall. Simon’s eyes fluttered shut. She was still wearing only the blanket and her hair was mussed from sleep. She looked gorgeous as ever, but she also looked…well-loved.
She caught her breath, tugging her blanket up higher, and her gaze flickered to Simon.
There was a beat of a moment where everyone was silent, staring at each other, the meaning of all this sinking in for each person.
Then Graham lunged forward. “You son of a bitch!” he bellowed before he swung and punched Simon square in the nose.
Meg screamed as Simon staggered beneath the force of Graham’s blow, nearly falling onto the settee. Blood began to trickle from his nose, but Graham didn’t look finished either as he took a long step forward.
She didn’t think. She just moved, rushing to lodge herself between the men. “No, stop! Please, Graham, stop!” she said, blocking Simon as she clutched at her blanket with one hand and pushed Graham back with the other.
He stared down at her, his gaze suddenly very focused. And very angry. She’d never seen him so angry, or soanythingemotional, in all the time they had been engaged.
“What is this, Margaret?” Graham hissed, his gaze holding hers, forcing her not to look away, telling her everything he thought of her. “Thisis what you’re doing?”
“I’ve done nothing,” she said, lifting her chin and trying not to think of that kiss with Simon. “We were trapped, that is all. I have done nothing wrong.”
Graham let out a bark of angry laughter. “It doesn’t look that way to me. It looks like you opened your—”
Now it was Simon who lunged from behind her. “You shut your goddamned mouth and have some respect!” he shouted, his hand coming to settle on Meg’s back.
She appreciated the protection, but since every single man in the room tracked the inappropriate movement of his hand, it didn’t help their situation.
James stepped forward, catching Graham’s arms as Meg pushed back at Simon to hold him from the fight. “Enough!” James snapped, his sharp tone silencing the room. He shoved Graham toward Baxton. “Get him out of here. You two ride back to the estate and I will deal with you there.”
Graham shook his head. “There is nodealing, James. Is there? Is there, Simon?”
James glared at him and sent a side glance to Baxton, who was barely containing his grin of glee at the drama unfolding. Meg held back a sob. What a tale he would have to tell.
“Go. Back. Home,” James said.
Baxton at last took Graham’s arm and tugged him out the door, with Graham sending looks of pure rage at Simon the entire time. Once they had left, James slammed the door behind them and turned to Simon and Meg.
Meg had seen her brother through many a troubling scenario. Through their father’s abuse and neglect, through their mother’s many outbursts when she was drunk, through his courtship with Emma, which had not been entirely smooth. Today, looking at her, he had an expression she had never seen before. There was tension on his face, worry, anger and a touch of what she knew was disappointment.
She had disappointed him, and that cut her all the way down through her heart. She turned away from it, blinking at the tears that rushed to her eyes.
“Go into the bedroom and get dressed, Meg,” James said softly. “Simon will do the same out here.”
Simon cleared his throat. “Er, my clothes are in the other room.”
James jerked his face toward Simon, and the disappointment Meg had seen directed at her was tripled for him. “Of course they are,” James growled. “Margaret, bring the Duke of Crestwood’s things to me and I will deliver them. Then get dressed in the bedroom.Please.”
“Yes, Jamie,” Meg whispered, reverting to her childhood nickname for him in the hopes it would soften him to her.
He said nothing as she entered the room and caught up all of Simon’s clothing. She brought them back and handed them over to James. He touched her hand once he held everything, then wordlessly leaned forward to kiss her cheek.
“Can you manage?”
She nodded and looked over his shoulder one last time at Simon. He was staring at her, his expression filled with guilt and regret. Regret over what they’d shared. She supposed she should feel the same, considering what their actions had now wrought.
But she didn’t. And seeing those emotions on his face broke her heart anew. Slowly, she closed the door and covered her face. Her entire world had just broken. It was very likely nothing could fix any of it.
