Page 131 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

When the dancing commenced in the assembly room, he bowed before her. “May I have the honor of this dance?”

“Men don’t usually dance with their wives.” She gave her fan a little snap, spreading the pleats apart and displaying a pastoral scene, and her brown eyes teasing above it.

“I think we’ve established I’m not one to follow the rules. Remember Drake’s house party?”

Her laugh, low and throaty, heated his blood. “How could I forget?”

“Besides, this isn’t a formal London ball of theton. This is a country dance, with simple country folk who couldn’t care less about rules of etiquette.”

With another snap of her wrist, the fan closed. “Very well. They’re your toes.”

God, he loved her. “It’s a small price to pay for holding you in my arms.” He meant every word. If loving Charlotte meant enduring moments of pain to experience monumental joy, he would do so willingly.

“It’s a country dance. There will be noholding.”

“Then you must promise me the waltz as recompense for my sacrifice.”

As she slipped her gloved fingers into his offered hand, she said, “You drive a hard bargain, sir.”

And although touching her was limited to brief brushes of fingers, his toes remained surprisingly unscathed during the dance. Only at the final moment, when they faced each other to bow and curtsy, did she extend her slipper and press lightly on his foot.

When he led her from the dancefloor, she whispered, “Lest it be said I don’t fulfillmypromises.”

Although the musicians weren’t as skilled as those at London balls, nor the dancers as graceful, Simon wouldn’t exchange his time with Charlotte at the simple country gathering for a thousandtonballs. His heart swelled with pride as man after man approached and practically begged for a chance to dance with her.

At first, he worried she would insult them with her sharp tongue, but she accepted each offer gracefully, smiling prettily even when she winced at her own stomped toes.

“You’ve done well, Son,” his mother said, slipping beside him. “Charlotte has won over the whole town.”

“Not the whole town.” Simon tipped his head toward Hester. “I don’t trust her, Mother. She has something up her sleeve.”

His mother’s eyes widened. “Charlotte or Hester?”

“Hester. I trust Charlotte with my life.” Not mere words, the truth of them filled his whole body with light. Hedidtrust her.

“Have you told her?”

Reluctantly, he pulled his gaze from Charlotte and turned toward his mother. “What? That I trust her?” He shook his head.

“No. That you love her. You forget I read that gossip rag. I know you married Charlotte out of a sense of duty. When did you discover you love her?”

He wouldn’t break Charlotte’s trust and tell his mother about Charlotte’s fear of thunderstorms, but it was a valid question. “I would say it hit me like a lightning bolt, but I don’t think that’s precisely right. I think I fell little by little until I couldn’t escape the truth. It’s a sneaky bugger thing this love bit. I’d almost say insidious.”

His mother slapped her fan on his arm. “Surely not! Love isn’t harmful.”

“Isn’t it?” His gaze drifted to Samuel. Tucked in a dark corner, the baker stared holes into Simon. “Do you forget Joy?”

“Joy was a child. You both were.”

“She loved me and ended up dead.”

Compassion shone in his mother’s eyes. “Joy was a troubled girl.”

The room became stifling at the memory of Joy’s lifeless face, and he struggled to breathe. “I’m going outside.” He squeezed his mother’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” He winked. “And I do plan to tell Charlotte this evening.”

Carefully weaving his way from the crowded assembly hall, Simon finally reached the door, only to bump into Albie Mooney as the man stumbled against him.

“Watch where yer goin’,” Mooney grumbled, his words slurred.

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