Page 130 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

“Georgie!” his mother said, rushing up and out of breath. “How many times have I told you? It is not appropriate for a young lady to run.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Simon said. “Charlotte runs when I chase her around the bedroom. But then again, I just discovered she’s older than I am, so—oof”

Charlotte elbowed him in the ribs, then completely ignoring her malicious action, smiled sweetly. “Your mother is correct, Georgie. It’s not seemly.” She gazed askance at Simon. “At least in public.”

“Minx,” he whispered for Charlotte’s ears only.

His mother linked an arm into Charlotte’s. “Ignore him, my dear. Let’s inspect your handiwork. Simon, were you aware our Charlotte managed most of the details herself? Even Mrs. Bailey admitted to me she was impressed and has decided to bow out completely. Your wife is a marvel.”

She was indeed. The evening couldn’t come soon enough. Perhaps while they slipped outside the crowded assembly room and strolled in the moonlight, he would tell her he loved her more than the moon itself.

Satisfaction of a jobwell done swelled in Charlotte’s chest as she took in her surroundings. Garlands of flowers draped over shop doors, and windows displayed wreaths in vibrant colors. She couldn’t wait to taste the food on the menu for the dance at the assembly that evening.

Simon pulled a white anemone from the bouquet Lizzie had given her.

Charlotte slapped his hand. “You’re ruining it.”

His lips curved upward, not as wide as his usual grin, but more thoughtful and...affectionate? “This particular flower belongs elsewhere.” He tucked the flower into her hair above herear, then stood back to assess the effect. “Perfect. You make it even more beautiful.”

Her stomach tumbled at the light in his blue eyes. If she didn’t know better, she would think he—loved her. She dismissed the impossible notion. “Don’t think your flattery will have me swooning at your feet. You forget who you’re flirting with.”

His laugh rolled over her skin, a wave of sensuous pleasure. “I could never forget that.”

Georgie made a gagging sound, and Rebecca, Beth, and Frannie sighed.

Kate said, “I agree with Georgie. You two lovebirds are becoming sickening.”

Charlotte dismissed Kate’s comments as well as the others’ reactions. Surely, they must be imagining things.

“Oh, dear,” Judith said. “Samuel appears positively livid.”

Sure enough, the baker glared at them from the doorway of his shop.

Simon grasped her by the elbow and whispered, “Let’s steer clear of him as much as possible today.”

And as the day progressed, they did exactly that. Samuel’s accusatory glare faded into the background amid laughter and sunny smiles from the other townspeople.

During the maypole celebration, as dancers wove their colored ribbons around in intricate patterns. Georgie said, “I can’t wait until I can join in the maypole dance.”

Simon groaned. “Perhaps when you’re eighty. You’re already too devious for words. I shudder to think what mischief you will machinate when you’re older.”

Charlotte laughed. “Look who’s speaking.”

The dance ended and as children unwound the ribbons, the mischievousness Simon accused Georgie of glinted in his eyes. He tugged on Charlotte’s hand. “Come, let’s do the next one!”

“Isn’t that more for couples courting?”

He only grinned, and her heart fluttered at the implication.

CHAPTER 35

Simon used every opportunity to flirt with Charlotte during their dance around the maypole. He purposely brushed his fingers against hers as they passed each other under loops of the vibrant ribbons. He winked, smiled, and delivered sultry gazes, promising every carnal delight he could imagine—and make no mistake, he imagined quite a few.

However, when the dance ended, he noticed more than Charlotte’s darkened cheeks and lust-filled eyes. Hester speared a glare at Charlotte as if she wanted to wrap her hands around his wife’s neck as tightly as the ribbons around said maypole.

Make that two people for them to avoid the remainder of the day.

They’d done a jolly good job of it, enjoying the festivities and each other. He couldn’t remember when Charlotte had smiled and laughed as much as she had that day. He couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms again, to see that smile—that dimple—forming for him alone.

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