Page 71 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

“I don’t insult people I like.” A ghost of a smile crossed her lips, hidden quickly by her teacup.

“Ouch.” Simon threw a hand to his forehead. He cracked one eye, catching the twinkle in hers. “You should smile more often, especially when it reaches your eyes.”

The twinkle vanished. “I don’t have to do anything you tell me to.” In a huff, she rose. “I’ll be ready at ten, after I say goodbye to Honoria and Kitty.”

He dropped his head in his hands. It was going to be a long journey to Wiltshire.

Charlotte did indeed saygoodbye to Honoria and little Kitty, holding the infant in her arms again as Simon taught her. She’d never imagined herself one to become all soft over babies, but when Kitty grasped her finger with her tiny fist, a strange—not uncomfortable—twinge squeezed in her chest.

“Remember your promise.” Honoria’s gaze flitted to Simon, who stood nearby.

The cad’s lips pressed together as if holding back a smile.

Lips.

Kisses—one in particular came to mind.

Alone in a carriage with Simon for hours on end? It was going to be a long journey to Wiltshire.

Drake reassured them both again, and veritably pushed them out the door. “Go. Get to know each other better. Come back happy.”

A tall order indeed. Charlotte never regarded Drake as an optimist.

As the carriage bounced along the Bath Road, Charlotte tried to read her book—tried being the operative word.

She huffed in disbelief at the part where Elizabeth first sees Pemberley—and by association, falls in love with Mr. Darcy. Shallow girl.

Simon moved from his seat across from her to sit next to her, peering over her shoulder at her book. A few moments later, he moved back to the opposite seat, only to repeat the process multiple times.

“Would you please sit still?”

His knee bounced endlessly even when he stared out the window of the carriage.

“And cease that knee jiggling.” She gave aharrumphand turned back to Elizabeth’s tour of Pemberley.

Simon banged on the carriage roof, and it slowed to a halt.

Charlotte peeked out the window, expecting to have arrived at a posting inn. Country road stretched as far as she could see. “What are you doing? Why are we stopping?”

Without answering her, Simon bounded from the carriage, leaving the door swinging back and forth.

The footman riding on the back descended and held out his hand. “Do you wish to exit, my lady?”

She most certainly did. If nothing else, to see what her buffoon of a husband was up to.

She expected to see him off in the tree line, using the greenery as a necessary. Instead, he was running down the road.

“What’s happening, my lady?” Rose called from her seat atop the carriage.

That was precisely what Charlotte wanted to know. “What on earth is he doing?”

The footman shook his head. “Not quite sure, my lady.”

Seated next to Rose, Simon’s valet, Mr. Brown, said, “He’s done it a few times before when we’ve traveled to and from Hartridge House and London. He runs for a while, then turns and runs back.”

That settled it. She had officially married a madman.

“How far are we from a posting inn?”

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