Page 70 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

Simon took his seat, breathing a sigh of relief.Thank you, God.He sent an encouraging smile toward his friend, hoping his next words would cheer him. “And no doubt Juliana will keep them busy with the ‘smoothing’ as she leaves chaos in her wake.”

Drake chuckled and sipped more of his coffee, the distaste on his face not as exaggerated. “Hopefully enough to give Honoria and me some peace. I welcome their help, but . . .”

“Say no more. Family is wonderful—in small amounts. They won’t all be staying with you, will they?”

“No. Mother and Juliana will, but I expect Lord and Lady Stratford will be more comfortable in their own home here in London. Even so, they will probably be underfoot most of the day—no doubt asking a multitude of questions about your marriage if you were here.” He yawned, then sipped again. “This stuff isn’t so bad once you get used to it.”

“You are looking more alive than dead, so perhaps it’s working, too.”

Drake’s famous one-sided smile tipped his lips. “You wait. When you and Charlotte have your first child, I’ll be first in line to note your deathly appearance.”

The mention of having children twisted the earlier guilt into something worse—deprivation. “Unless things have changed, children don’t magically appear,” he muttered, more to himself than Drake. Chances of him getting Charlotte with child were bleak. But the kiss had been promising . . .

“You mean you still haven’t . . .”

“Haven’t what?” Charlotte breezed into the room in a cloud of—wait. She’d changed her perfume. Notes of vanilla tickled his nose, lighter and fresher than her usual lilac.

Simon exchanged a glance with Drake, pleading with Drake to remain silent.

“Paid the staff’s wages for the month,” Simon lied. He met Drake’s amused expression. “No, we haven’t. But I expect we will shortly.”

In the process of pouring herself some tea, Charlotte halted and spun toward him, her brow furrowing in that too familiar manner. “We? Is someone else responsible for paying the staff’s salaries besides you?”

“No. I’m responsible.”

“You said, ‘We haven’t.’”

Leave it to the woman to pick up on the nuance he’d meant only for Drake. She was too intelligent for her own good—or rather, for Simon’s.

Drake chuckled, lifting his coffee once more. “You were speaking metaphorically, were you not, Simon? Since, in reality, I pay the staff’s wages, but you disburse them.” Amusement danced in his friend’s amber eyes.

Simon wanted to punch him—as a friend, of course. In his own estimation, he was the least aggressive man he knew, with Drake coming in a close second. Why fight when you could have fun?

Charlotte took a seat several places away from him, one slice of toast and a blob of jam on her plate.

“It’s a long journey. Perhaps you should eat a little mo—” His mouth snapped shut at the icy glare Charlotte delivered. “Or perhaps not.”

Drake chuckled. “You’re learning,” he whispered.

After delicately chewing one tiny bite of toast, Charlotte asked, “How is Honoria this morning?”

“Eager to get out of bed. Ashton promised to come by today to see how she is faring,” Drake said.

“I’m glad I’m not a woman,” Simon quipped.

Charlotte ignored him. “And Lady Kitty?”

“Making her presence known every few hours. Frampton said we could set our clocks by her cries.”

“I’d love to see her and say goodbye to Honoria before we leave,” Charlotte said.

“Honoria asked for the very thing when she shooed me out of the room earlier this morning.” Drake rose. “But now, I should get back to her.”

Simon thought he would never leave.

Once Drake disappeared, Charlotte said, “I wouldn’t say this to his face, but he looks dreadful.”

Simon pulled back in surprise. “When have you failed to deliver an insult—especially if it’s the truth?”

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