Simon glanced at the crowd, which was now hanging on this display like it was high theatre. Then he met Graham’s eyes and held his gaze there as his friend placed Meg’s hand in Simon’s.
Graham immediately jerked away and stepped back, behind the families, away from the presentation that clearly was of no pleasure to him. Meg wasn’t certain it was of any pleasure to Simon either. He did not look happy as he guided her hand to the crook of his arm and they faced the crowd.
James cleared his throat. “I am happy to announce that Margaret will marry the Duke of Crestwood one week from Saturday in a private ceremony here at Falcon’s Landing. There is little else to say in the matter, so I hope you will all simply enjoy the last few days of our gathering and wish the happy couple nothing less than the best. Good day.”
He turned and motioned Simon and Meg back toward the house. Graham was already ahead of them, mounting the steps back to the terrace two at a time. Simon guided Meg up, wordless, not looking at her. They entered the parlor with James and Emma at their heels.
Once inside, Graham faced the foursome. “It is done. And I am back to London. My horse is ready and my servants will be taking my things back in the carriage in a few hours.”
James stepped forward, his hands outstretched. “Damn it, Graham, please. Don’t go like this. Please don’t. Not after everything we are to each other, everything we’ve been through. Don’t go like this.”
Graham stared at James, and Meg’s heart broke. As boys, Graham had been the ultimate protector of James and Simon. She remembered him once coming to blows with a boy three years their elder because he’d said something untoward about Simon, who had been the last to grow into a man’s body. She also remembered him rising up in challenge to James and Meg’s father when he had been cruel to them during a visit years ago. He’d gotten his ears boxed and never cared.
Now he looked at James and Simon like he didn’t even know them.
“I have two options in how I leave,” he said softly. “Like this, or in a way that would be far worse. I choosethisbecause someday…someday I may not be so angry. But for now, this is all I can do. Goodbye.”
His voice cracked as he said the last, then he left the room without so much as a nod. His footfalls led away to the foyer and out where Meg imagined his horse was waiting.
James bent his head and turned back. Simon looked sick. “I’m sorry.”
James let out a long sigh. “It doesn’t matter now. Here we are. We should make the best of it.” He moved toward Meg and smiled at her gently. “I think it might be best if you went upstairs.”
“And what about the party?” she asked.
Emma shook her head. “James and I discussed it earlier. We agree that you and Simon should stay away today. Let the worst of the reaction die down while James and I manage it. Tomorrow we will start over. Tomorrow we will plan a small ball to end the party and celebrate the engagement. And James and Simon will take time to arrange the special license and the rest.”
Meg nodded, numb when she should have been happy. She would marry Simon in just one week’s time. And yet she didn’t feel she could celebrate.
With the current mood of the room, this felt more like a time for mourning. All the passion she had felt from Simon in the cottage the night before, all the pleasure and the connection that had pulsed between them and caused this shocking change…it was gone now.
And she worried if she would ever feel such connection from him again.
Chapter Nine
Meg sat at her dressing table, pulling a brush through her hair over and over, wishing she could just be hypnotized by the strokes and turn her restless mind off. It had been an incredibly trying afternoon.
It would have been bad enough with just the announcement of her new engagement and the drama that surrounded that. But that it was such a public, shocking thing made it impossible to be separated from the consequences. Despite the fact that Meg had been sequestered away, women who called themselves friends kept coming to her door. They were digging for information. Digging for fresh gossip.
They wanted to look at her face and see her pain written across it. Oh, there were a few who were not so cruel about it, but all were intensely curious. All wanted a little kernel of the story they could repeat later.
She was exhausted and only wanted to go to her bed and forget this day. She sighed and stood up, shrugging from her dressing gown and moving toward her bed. Fran had turned it down before she left half an hour before, and as Meg smoothed her hand over the cool, clean sheets she let out a sigh. Yes, things always looked better after a good night’s sleep.
They had to.
She was about to climb into those sheets and blow out her candle when there was a light knock at her chamber door. She turned to face it, lips pinched. She had said goodnight to James hours ago, Emma had come to check on her more recently, Fran should be happily in her own bed.
Which meant it was probably more tourists to her emotions on the other side of the door. To come here at midnight certainly took guts.
“Ignore it,” she murmured to herself as she turned back to the bed once more.
But the knock came again, this time with more force and urgency. She squeezed her eyes shut, frustration about this entire situation finally rising up in her. She stormed to the door and tore it open as she snapped, “There is nothing to discuss!”
But she didn’t find herself looking at some grasping lady seeking gossip or even a friend trying to wrap her head around what Meg had done. She found herself staring at a broad chest and lifted her gaze to see that Simon stood in the hall. In the dark. His jacket was off, his shoes were off, his cravat was undone and his hair was mussed, like he’d been running a hand through it.
“S-Simon,” she stammered.
He did not smile, but cocked his head. “If you don’t want to see me—”
