Richard only gave him a blank look.
“Remember Cynthia?” Simon stressed the last syllable of the woman’s name like he was talking to a child or a very dumb person. “Your mistress?”
Richard’s expression remained blank for some time before the name finally registered.
“Oh, Cynthia is well,” he answered a little too quickly.
After a pause, Simon said mischievously, “Don’t tell me you have gone and fallen in love with another woman. Cynthia must be very disappointed.”
Richard shifted uncomfortably at how close that was to the truth.
Simon’s mention of Cynthia made him come up with a plan. It seemed that slender, beautiful Cynthia, who he had met several months ago and taken on as his mistress, would probably be his solution to regain his sanity. Although it had been a while since he’d visited the woman, she had always been the warm and welcoming sort.
He paid her too well for her not to be.
There was nothing like a satisfying romp beneath the sheets to chase whatever blue devils plagued him. Perhaps he’d entice her to show him whatever new tricks she’d learned. He wasn’t a fool to expect loyalty from her, and knowing his money spoke louder than any of the other gentlemen she let into her bed, she would be more than eager to please him.
He would try that in a week, so he would finally be free of this inconvenient attraction to good old Catherine.
Yes. His prolonged celibacy could be the reason why his manhood seemed to have a mind of its own. That had to be the only logical explanation for why he suddenly couldn’t get her out of his mind even though he’d grown up with her.
Chapter Nine
“We should invite St. George over for dinner.”
Catherine nearly jumped in surprise upon hearing her mother mention the Duke’s title. Considering the man had been living continuously in her head in recent weeks, it was kind of startling to hear his name said out loud.
“Why would you want to do that, Mother?” she asked, confused.
“To congratulate him, of course, on becoming a duke, and we’ll also get to see Emmeline. I have missed the sweet girl.”
Catherine nearly snorted in disbelief because she was quite sure the bit about Emmy was just an afterthought. Even though her parents could be sweet people, they were not above using manipulative strategies to elevate their standing in polite society. She was sure forging a relationship with a newly minted duke was a step in the right direction for them.
Considering how hard she had worked to maintain a distance between the Duke and herself following that kiss in the ballroom of his townhouse, she didn’t think it was a particularly good idea to invite him to dinner or any other events that would force them to be in close proximity.
It wasn’t him she didn’t trust. It was herself and the tendency of her body to betray her deepest desires. The man just seemed to have the uncanny ability to expose the most wanton part of her, and she was resolved to avoid him at all costs.
“We can always send a letter conveying our condolences and congratulations,” she suggested hopefully.
There was an awkward silence while every member of her family gawked at her as if she had grown a second head.
“Cathy,” Lily started. “Even I know that is quite rude, seeing as the Duke lives a few blocks away from us,” she said, imitating their mother’s admonishing tone while shaking her head in disapproval.
Catherine had forgotten how annoying little siblings could be. Lily was barely thirteen, but she already had a smart mouth and could be strongly opinionated. But that was the prerogative of the youngest child, in her experience.
Before she could reply, her mother interjected.
“Lily is quite right. You do not send paltry letters to a duke. Besides, he is like a family friend, seeing as you are friends with his younger sister. Emmeline is a sweet girl, would you deny us the chance to meet her older brother?” she asked, affecting a disappointed tone.
Trust her parents to descend to the level of guilt-tripping to get what they wanted. On cue, all her siblings fixed their hopeful eyes on her. Of course, they had to make her feel like an evil tyrant for not agreeing to the dinner.
“Alright, we could have the Duke come over for dinner this week. I will deliver the invitation myself,” she said, defeated.
She didn’t miss the triumphant look on her mother’s face and the conspiratorial look she shared with her father.
It seemed they were thick as thieves again after having their latest row just a few hours before they broke their fast. She wondered if they could behave cordially in front of the Duke.
“But I’ll agree to this only on one condition.” She watched as the bright smile on her mother’s face dimmed a little. “Mother, Father, you must promise to behave.”