Page 82 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

CHAPTER 22

Charlotte tried to restrain her enthusiasm as Simon escorted her through the house. True, it wasn’t as grand as Edgerton’s seat in Shropshire, but to call it ahouseseemed woefully inadequate. Yet, the word mansion was much too cold for the warmth exuded within the walls.

It was a home. Filled with people who loved each other—who loved it. Even the pieces of artwork gracing the various rooms had special meaning.

Simon pointed at a sculpted crystal vase. Stems of tulips formed the walls, their leaves linking each flower to the other and the blooms forming the top ridge. “My father gave my mother this for their fifteenth wedding anniversary.” Inside, a spring arrangement of yellow tulips brightened the room, their sunny faces smiling at her.

She touched a fingertip to a yellow bloom. “Everything is so cheerful here.” Her voice sounded wistful to her ears.

“Not him.” Simon pointed to a portrait of a gruff-looking man. His dark hair—or more likely a wig—hung in waves overthe shoulders of his elaborate coat. “Mother keeps threatening to hide him away.”

“Who was he?”

“My great-great-grandfather. This was his estate. George the First rewarded him for his service in the Jacobite rebellion. No title, but money and land. He invested it well and ruled the tenants with an iron-fist from what I hear. A most disagreeable fellow. Not much to admire about him.”

“Except that because of him, you have all this.” She swung her arm in an arc about the room.

“Fair enough. Not sure if it’s something to admire or, as my father has done, use it to better others and not just ourselves.”

She pondered his statement. Would Simon and Mr. Beckham hold to such altruistic beliefs if King George had bestowed a title to their ancestor as well as the land and wealth? The power afforded to those in the peerage had ill effects on many. She’d witnessed that firsthand.

But as Simon led her through the rest of the common rooms of the home, his face brightening as he greeted each servant by name, she thought they would. Perhaps there really were good, incorruptible people in the world. Weren’t Honoria and Burwood proof of that?

As much as she hated to admit it, Simon had been reared to be a gentleman of a grand estate. Which begged the question. “Simon, why are you working as Burwood’s man of business? Surely not for the money?”

“Hmm?” Simon pulled his attention away from a footman who paused in his duties to welcome Simon home.

“Your duties with Burwood? Why not spend the time here when it will all be yours someday?”

He blinked as if he’d never considered the question. “As his firstborn son, Father began instructing me at his knee. Of course, I could barely sit still long enough to learn anything. All I wantedto do was run around, climb trees, and shuck off my clothing to dive in the pond during the hot summers. But when it became clear I would most likely be his only son, he stressed the importance of being responsible for my mother and sisters should he . . .” Simon’s voice cracked as if he couldn’t manage the last word.

So unlike Roland, who veritably anticipated their sire’s passing with glee. Nash had often remarked that perhaps their father’s sudden death wasn’t entirely from natural causes. But neither she nor her brothers mourned his loss overmuch.

“Then why not remain here? Why did you join the military?”

A shadow of darkness clouded his face, and he jerked his gaze away. “That’s another story for another day. Suffice it to say, I took my father’s words to heart, and although you might find it hard to believe, I took my responsibility seriously, learning as much as I could. When Drake discovered his true lineage, he panicked. He knew nothing about running an estate—especially a ducal one with multiple holdings. He needed someone he could trust to teach him and work with him so he could learn the right things to ask—to watch for. As my friend, how could I deny him? And Father encouraged the position, not only to assist Drake, but for what I could learn in managing such enormous properties. But my position with Drake as his man of business is temporary.”

“Because you will one day return here when your father dies?”

He nodded. “Or my position will end upon my own death.”

As much as she had led him to believe differently, in truth, she had never wished for his death. And with the events of the past few days, as she grew to know her husband, she not only didn’t long for his demise, but she dreaded it.

The revelation astonished her. Had she grown to care for the man?

The flicker of darkness disappeared, as if he mentallybrushed it away. “But either way, Drake has taken to his role as if he were born to it.” Simon paused, slapping his knee. “Ha! I suppose he was. And he has Honoria, and even Stratford should he need counsel.”

“What you did was . . .”

A dark brow hitched up. “Incorrigible? It seems to be your favorite descriptor of me.”

“No. I was going to say kind. But that seems inadequate. It was selfless.”

He threw a hand to his heart. “Is it still beating? A compliment from my fair wife?”

“Don’t let that go to your head. It’s large enough already.” She couldn’t help but laugh at him, but more than that, she was grateful he didn’t become all sentimental over her unfortunate slip.

“Ah, there she is. The Charlotte I know. You frightened me for a moment.” He peeked out one of the front windows. “Drat. It’s too dark to explore the hedge maze. We’ll save that for another time. Let’s make our quick goodbyes while a footman fetches a carriage.”

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