Page 30 of The Trouble With Titles
Madeline was proud of the firmness in her voice. Eleanor raised her head, a gleam of approval lighting her eyes as her lips curled into a wide smile. “A woman must fight for what she wants in this world.”
“Precisely.”
“Then when the time comes to hand over the reins of Bigsby’s, I shall be proud to do so, daughter.”
Madeline warmed at these words. It was high praise, indeed, coming from Eleanor Bigsby.
CHAPTER 8
“Next, Venus ordered Psyche to gather golden wool from dangerous wild sheep, whose very touch could kill her.”
Lucius Apuleius, Metamorphoses
OCTOBER 4, 1821
He was in their garden, a full moon casting a silver glow on Madeline, who was dressed in a silk gown that flowed in the slight breeze. Trees stood silent watch over them, rustling like the roar of waves pounding a moonlit beach to create a bubble of time and space far removed from the ordinary world.
She was turned away, smiling over her shoulder at him, mischief painted upon her delicate features. Accepting her invitation, Simon reached out to unbutton her bodice, desiretwisting and coiling through his veins as the gown slipped to reveal a creamy shoulder.
Lowering his head, he licked at a constellation of delightful freckles revealed in the moonlight. His pulse quickened as he tasted her sweet skin, thudding in his ears as he pressed forward to slide his hands around and cup the bountiful breasts that had haunted his dreams these many years.
Madeline moaned softly, her head falling back against his chest as he leaned down to inhale the scent of fruit and woman. His staff hardened as he caressed her, his thumb strumming over the stiffened tips to draw an exalted gasp from the delectable goddess in his arms. She arched into his hands, begging for his touch with sweet abandon, while her rounded buttocks gyrated against his loins, which throbbed in violent approval?—
Simon woke up with a groan, his body on fire and his chest heaving from his ragged breath, to realize with great disappointment that morning had arrived. He tried rolling over to recapture the intoxicating dream, but it was no use, despite the insistent pulsing between his legs.
He had found respite from his legal problems in his slumber, but now they clamored for his attention, shoving the illusion of Madeline out of reach. If he wished to bed his elusive Psyche, he would have to clear his name so he could claim her as his wife.
Madeline stifled a yawn,entering the breakfast room to find her sister with a news sheet in one hand and a forkful of eggs in the other.
“Where is Mama?”
“She was summoned earlier for a meeting. Now that the coronation is done, the King has turned his attentions to building a palace worthy of his magnificence.”
“Ah. The one that has Parliament fearful over his grand tastes.”
“If grand means expensive, yes. They are still choking from the coronation bills.”
Madeline collected her plate of food, taking a seat at the table. After tossing and turning all night with worry over Simon, she was looking forward to speaking with Molly. She needed to eat and remove herself to the garden in short order.
She cut her fruit and raised a piece to her mouth when she realized Henri was staring at her with an apprehensive expression. “What is it?”
“The news sheets.” Her sister reached over to drop the folded page in front of her.
Madeline peered down, pulling a face as she read the report. “I thought Home Office was keeping it unofficial.”
“It appears someone spoke out of turn. There is no mention of an official declaration from Home Office.”
Madeline laid her fork down and leaned back to think. “He did not do it.”
“So you have said.”
“Mama agrees with me.”
Her sister twisted her lips in displeasure, capitulating. “But if Simon’s reputation is destroyed by this, he could drag you—us—down with him. You must acknowledge the need to be careful.”
Madeline sprang to her feet, vibrating with outrage. “Are you suggesting that I desert an old friend because of what people might say? Do you believe me so fickle?”
Henri leaned back in her spindly chair to think. “I suppose that would not be in character. It is just that … Oh, Madeline. I am your sister, and I do not wish to see you hurt again.”
