Page 125 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

“You didn’t offer to drive her?” Simon asked, unsure if he was more surprised or angry.

“I did, sir, but she insisted.” John leaned forward, his gaze casting around him before whispering, “She can be rather frightening, sir.”

Simon laughed. “Indeed. And her bite is even worse than her bark. She punched Albert Mooney in the nose.”

John’s eyes widened. “She didn’t?!”

“She did. It was glorious to see. Bloodied him good.” Just remembering the fire in Charlotte’s eyes spurred him to find her. “Have Joseph ready a horse for me, and here”—he handed John the basket with his catch—“have Madge clean this and prepare it for Trifle.”

John peeked in the basket, his brow lifting. “The whole fish for the kitten, sir?”

Simon scrunched his lips together and huffed. “Perhaps not the whole fish. But as much as Trifle wants, then Madge can do what she wants with the rest.”

John nodded and raced off, no doubt imaging a good fish pie for his supper.

Charlotte driving his curricle. Simon shook his head. He’d love to have seen it. Perhaps he’d leave the horse at the mainhouse and have Charlotte drive them both back. Back and forth, he paced in front of the cottage.What is keeping Joseph?Simon could have been halfway to the main house already.

Finally, the groom approached with Simon’s favorite horse, Max. Not waiting, Simon rushed forward and mounted, taking off like a shot and leaving a trail of windblown cherry blossoms in his wake.

Upon arriving at the main house, he tossed the reins to a groom and his hat to a footman. “Where is my wife?”My wife. Damn, but he’d grown to like the sound of that.My wanton wife.Even better.

“In the drawing room with your mother, sir.”

At the doorway to the room, he paused.

With her back to him, Charlotte had her head bowed. Trepidation tickled up his spine. What was wrong? However, when Georgie looked up from her place beside Charlotte and grinned at him, he relaxed.

He held a finger to his lips and sent his sister a conspiratorial wink, catching his mother’s attention as well. Then, silently, he tiptoed up behind Charlotte and placed his hands over her eyes.

“Guess who?” He placed a soft kiss on the nape of her neck.

“Someone who has been catching fish. Ugh, Simon, your hands reek of it.”

Blast.Right.The woman had him so befuddled he didn’t even think to wash his hands before rushing off to see her. “At least you acknowledge I caught some. One, to be exact. Trifle shall feast upon it.”

Georgie stuck out her bottom lip. “You didn’t bring any for Nightly? You are my least favorite brother.”

Simon tousled Georgie’s curls. “I’m your only brother.” The statement reminded him of his duty to his family and, more pleasantly, the prospect of producing an heir.

But as he gazed down, he saw the reason for Charlotte’s bowed head. He pluckedThe Muckrakerfrom her hand.

“What the devil is this doing here?” His gaze darted toward his mother. “Are you still sending for this tripe?” He waved the detestable paper before him.

Chagrin painted his mother’s face. As well it should! “I meant to cancel my subscription. Truly I did.”

“Hmm. A likely story.” He scanned the contents, his gaze snagging on the name Felix Davies.

Reports have indicated Simon Beckham has whisked his new wife, Lady Charlotte Talbot Beckham, off to Wiltshire away from the prying eyes of society. One can only guess at the reason, but this reporter speculates that the new Mrs. Beckham is increasing. No doubt the couple will welcome a birth before the decent period of nine months has passed.

Felix Davies, who had courted Lady Charlotte, and in fact had proposed marriage, is heartbroken. Witnesses state Lord Felix is appalled at Lady Charlotte’s scandalous behavior, wondering—if he had in fact married her—would the first child of their union even be his?

Simon tossed the gossip rag aside. “I should call him out.”

His mother gasped, and Georgie let out a whoop of excitement.

The more sensible of the three, Charlotte arched a brow. “Who? The Worm or the perpetrator ofThe Muckraker?”

“Both.” Anger bubbled in his veins like molten lava.

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