Page 97 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

Gentle.

“So. You like her?” Simon gave Trifle another scratch and was rewarded with a meow.

“I do.”

“You say that with more conviction than you did at our wedding.” For a moment, something flickered in his blue eyes. Pain? Disappointment? Regret?

The emotion vanished so quickly, perhaps she had imagined it.

“Since the sun decided to come out and ruin my fishing, what do you say we take a trip into Swindon? I can show you around. Introduce you to some of the locals.”

“What of Trifle? It seems unfair to leave her so soon.”

“She’ll be fine. We’ll let Georgie watch her, and she can play with her brother. It will be good for them both.”

“And there are shops?”

“Now that you know I’m not destitute, is the plan to bleed me dry with shopping trips?”

A smile tugged her lips. “I will do my best.”

CHAPTER 26

Joyous thoughts of shopping dashed from Charlotte’s mind the moment a groom pulled up the curricle. Although not a phaeton, the sleek gig was nearly as bad—made for speed. “What about the carriage we journeyed in from London?”

Simon slid an incredulous glance at her. “I would think you’d know a carriage such as that one is meant for long journeys, not for short jaunts on a sunny day. Swindon is but a half-hour’s drive.” He held out his hand, motioning her forward. “Now, come.”

When she hesitated, he exhaled a heavy sigh. “Very well.” Placing his hand on his heart, he adopted a serious affect most unlike him. “I vow to drive so slowly, even the snails shall pass us by.”

Reluctantly, she grasped his hand, energy passing through his gloved hand to hers. After assisting her into the seat, he climbed next to her and flicked the ribbons. At first, he kept the horses to a slow walk, but even Charlotte found the pace excruciatingly slow.

“At this rate, we won’t arrive until nightfall and the shops will be closed,” she mumbled.

“Only trying to please my wife.” However, his expression was anything but pleased. A muscle in his jaw pulsed and his knuckles stretched the kid leather of his riding gloves.

“Please increase the speed before you have an attack of apoplexy. I’m not ready to become a widow quite yet.” The moment the words flew carelessly from her lips, she regretted them. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to broach the subject of early death.”

“Your apology makes it worthwhile. That and—this.” He snapped the ribbons with more vigor and the horses broke into a trot, the jolting change of pace flinging Charlotte back in the seat.

She grasped the top of her bonnet, keeping it in place. “Perhaps it’smyearly demise I should be concerned about.”

He flashed his signature grin. “Nonsense. You’re tough as nails.”

Pride expanded her chest at his offhanded compliment.

As they rounded a bend in the road, buildings emerged, and Simon slowed the curricle. Quaint little shops with colorful displays of their wares tempted Charlotte. “Oh, a milliner.” She grasped Simon’s arm, tugging it. “With the way you drive, I shall need to purchase more bonnets lest one fly off my head.”

After pulling the curricle to a stop, he jumped down and offered his hand. “Then that shall be our first stop.”

The moment they entered the shop, heads turned. A woman Mrs. Beckham’s age glanced up from where she was showing a younger woman a lovely creation with an enormous feather. “Simon! Oh, dear boy, you’ve returned to us.” She shoved the bonnet into the other woman’s hands and raced forward.

Close on her heels, the younger woman followed. Blond and rather pretty, her face split into an enormous smile.

“Mrs. Westly.” Simon bowed over each lady’s hand, brushinga quick kiss across their knuckles. “Miss Throckmorton. Or is it missus something or other? Has some lucky man snatched you away from the rest of us?”

Dash it all.The man couldn’t stop himself from flirting even when married. Of course, Charlotte wasn’t so naïve as to think he would stop admiring other women. Theirs was far from a love match.

The younger woman, Miss Throckmorton apparently, blushed, casting a cursory glance Charlotte’s way and, as quickly, dismissing her as inconsequential.

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