Page 13 of Mine This Winter
Merciful Lord!
Gwendolyn would be ruined if Payne caught them in a clinch. The pompous Lord Holmes would call Simon out, leaving the spy free to trade his secrets, to sell the names of all the British agents working in France.
Fear darkened Gwendolyn’s brown eyes. Tears still fell. Simon was forced to press his mouth to hers again to mask every stuttered breath. And to taste her lips one last time.
“I’ve come to Westmore to win Miss Caldwell’s hand,” Payne said, his tone lacking conviction. “One mistake and all the hard work will be for nothing.”
The damn snake.
As if Gwendolyn would marry someone so shallow.
“You could always marry my darling sister. She has a decent dowry, and you’d get to spend an inordinate amount of time with me.”
Payne sighed. “Miss Netherwell is as dull as a winter’s morn.”
“Yes, bless her soul, but I shall ensure you’re never bored in her company. And it will save me having to attend tedious house parties again.”
“Miss Caldwell’s brother is a viscount.”
“Yes, but my sister is far more biddable.” After a brief pause, Mrs Astley added, “Come. Let us venture to my room and discuss the matter in detail. No one will disturb us there.”
For heaven’s sake, go! Simon silently willed.
“I could fetch Holmes’ best port from the library,” Payne suggested, his complete surrender to the widow a given.
“I shall come with you,” Mrs Astley purred. “We may steal a quiet moment alone, though it will be our little secret.”
The creak of the boards accompanied the pad of footsteps.
Simon pressed his finger to his lips, urging Gwendolyn to remain silent. They stood statue still but for her bosom heaving against his chest.
Only when the danger had passed did the true meaning of their conversation hit him. Gwendolyn’s father and brother had ruined his damn life. The men were responsible for five years of abject misery. Had conspired to destroy a profound love affair. A love that would always be tainted. A love that would always be marred by their wicked treachery.
Anger burned in Simon’s chest.
The previous Lord Holmes might be entombed in the family’s mausoleum, but Oliver Caldwell was still alive and breathing. By God, Simon wouldn’t rest until he’d made the bastard pay.
“Return to your room, Gwendolyn,” he whispered with some urgency. “I shall ensure the coast is clear.” Then he would seek out Lord Holmes and smash his fist into the viscount’s smug face.
She shook her head, her beguiling eyes swimming in disbelief. “Tell me again why you left.”
“Your family convinced me you didn’t want me.” Hatred licked at every word. “That’s the only reason I accepted Lord Mowbray’s offer to work overseas.”
She swallowed deeply. “So, you didn’t come back for me?”
He could not lie, but the truth cut through his heart like a rusty blade. “No, Gwendolyn. I did not come back for you.”
CHAPTER 5
Gwen fought to remain upright but her world spun on its axis, her mind a whirl of questions. She wasn’t sure which one to address first: the loss, the pain, the treachery, the revival of a passion she thought dead and buried. Still, despite the confusion, two things remained.
She still loved Simon Garrick.
And Oliver had been lying to her for years.
No wonder Simon’s arrival had left her brother agitated.
The thought caused a sudden tempest in her chest, a rising storm of anger. Someone would pay for ruining her life, starting with her conniving brother.
