Chapter 6
R eadying herself for dinner with the Marquess and Marchioness of Rothsay was full of uncertainty for Hannah.
Uncertain of what she should wear.
Uncertain that she was truly welcomed at the dinner.
Uncertain that her husband would not vent his spleen towards her in public.
That last one was what truly kept her on edge as she dressed, although Simon’s anger seemed to have finally cooled towards her after their tête-à-tête over the mystery letters.
After all, he was no longer avoiding the house entirely. Archer reported to her that, per the talk in the servant’s hall, Simon had returned to the house to sleep these last three nights. Hannah had yet to see him during the day, but it was progress.
Though Simon had returned to the house, that did not mean they were happy companions. Which made attending a dinner together this evening all the more perilous.
Yet despite all her uncertainty, she was rather looking forward to this evening. It would be nice to once again be around people other than the silent servants.
She had only met Lord Rothsay once before during her truncated first season. She vaguely remembered a tall, dark- haired man who had been polite when Simon had briefly introduced him at a ball. It had not been too long before the two men had gone off to only the Lord knew where the men went off to in the evenings.
Drinking and gaming most like.
At least that was what Caroline claimed all the young bucks did when they were in London.
Hannah knew nothing about the city life. She wondered if Lord and Lady Rothsay would immediately recognize her as an ignorant country girl. Lord Rothsay was a duke-to-be and a man about Town. Archer had told her that Lady Rothsay, now highly ranked, had been born Miss Catherine Balfour, a baron’s daughter who lived a pastoral life, just as Hannah had. At least they had that as a common thread she might pull on if needed tonight.
Even with the uncertainty, Hannah was determined to make her first evening out in London a success. She would not let guilt or anger or discomfort put her off from enjoying the dinner.
She slipped on her gloves and reticule and made her way to the entrance hall, where she found Simon dressed for an evening out.
The golden light from the chandelier gilded Simon’s hair, as dark and shiny as a raven’s wing. His warm honey-coloured eyes tracked her intently as she descended. He was freshly shaved for their evening, no sign of the usual shadow of stubble on his jaw, and she found herself missing it. He wore a charcoal-grey tailcoat and ivory trousers, complemented by a cut velvet waistcoat the same shade as a plum.
“Good evening,” he bowed to her. “You look lovely.”
She debated for days over which dress to wear tonight, finally deciding only this morning on the pink satin with black lace flounces on the skirt and sleeves. The style might be a season or two out of date, but the pink flattered her peaches and cream complexion, which was shown off to great effect by the off-the-shoulder neckline.
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks warming from both the compliment and the spark in his eyes as he looked her over.
“Shall we?” Simon asked, offering his arm.
Her stomach swooped as her hand settled on his arm, suddenly aware of how firm and warm he felt beneath her hand. The sensation must be from excitement to find Simon no longer appeared angry at her.
Surely this was a sign that he no longer wanted animosity between them. Tonight they would finally put behind them the unpleasant reason they had come to be married.
Unfortunately, the carriage ride to the Rothsay home quickly disavowed her of any further optimism about tonight. Simon stayed silent, staring out the window and completely ignoring her. It was a painful reminder of their journey to London.
At least the ride to Brook Street was much quicker than the one to London, and they soon arrived at the Rothsay townhouse.
A handsome, dark-haired man who resembled Hannah’s vague memory of Lord Rothsay met them in the entrance hall with a pretty lady on his arm. Lady Rothsay wore a velvet dress in dove grey, absent any embellishments but the white lace cuffs on its large sleeves. Although the dress was plain, it allowed the parure of garnets Lady Rothsay wore to stand out.
The brooch was a trio of garnets nestled in the centre of the low pleated bodice, matching her drop earrings and the oval garnet encircled by tiny pearls on a gold chain around her neck. A matching tiara of garnets and pearls sat atop her dark hair, complementing her dark eyes.
Hannah felt underdressed compared to the marchioness, having only pinned on the simple rose quartz brooch that had once belonged to her mother. She had little in the way of jewellery beyond the few pieces she had inherited from her mother. Her quick wedding meant she had been gifted no jewellery, not even a tiara.
She wondered if Lady Rothsay’s parure had been a wedding gift or if her husband had bestowed it on her at some point during their marriage. Hannah would wager on it being a loving gift from her husband, considering the way Lord Rothsay’s hand cradled Lady Rothsay’s own in the crook of his opposite elbow. The man did not want to let his wife go.
“Simon, a delight to see you again,” Lady Rothsay greeted Simon before turning her attention to Hannah, making it clear it was time for introductions.
“Lady Rothsay, may I introduce you to Miss Hannah Talbot,” Simon said.
Lord Rothsay guffawed, and Lady Rothsay elbowed him discreetly.
“Do not laugh. New names are an adjustment for newlyweds, as you are aware,” Lady Rothsay chastised her husband before offering Hannah a smile. “I am eager to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Langley. I have heard much about you from Simon over the years.”
The fact that Simon had spoken to anyone about her was a surprise. He had been away from Cosburn Park for so long, she did not think he thought of her much when she was not around.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance as well, Lady Rothsay. I am afraid our early arrival has left me with few friends to call on until the season begins in earnest.”
“You have a friend now,” Lady Rothsay said, linking her arm through hers. “Come with me to the drawing room and you shall meet a few more new friends. We have a full house this season.”
Sure enough, four ladies waited in the drawing room, two older and two in the early bloom of youth. Hannah was introduced to Lady Balfour, Lady Rothsay’s mother, who bore a striking resemblance to her daughter. Then there was Mrs. Jacobs, aunt to Misses Isabella and Arabella Livingston, the young girls in Town for the first time and eager to be presented at one of the Queen’s Drawing Rooms.
“Our aunt, the Baroness Nott, was to present us, but she sprained her ankle participating in a three-legged race,” Miss Isabella explained. “I told her she should not be racing at her age.”
“Especially after having consumed as much gin as she had that day,” Miss Arabella added. “Alas, she did not listen and took quite a tumble. Thankfully, Lady Rothsay offered to step in and sponsor us so we did not have to delay our presentations.”
“Perhaps we should have postponed it, since you both still do not know how to behave properly in company,” Mrs. Jacobs chastised the girls, but they merely smirked at one another, immune to any guilt.
Lady Rothsay merely gave the girls an exasperated shake of her head before turning her attention back to Hannah. “I hope you do not mind that we decided on an informal dinner for our first meeting. The table would be populated with unfamiliar gentlemen if I had to even out the numbers and I wanted to get to know you properly, Mrs. Langley.”
“Oh, I do not mind at all,” Hannah replied. “We always hosted informal dinners at Cosburn Park. Unattached gentlemen who make for tolerable dining partners are quite a rarity in the country.”
“Quite so for Town as well,” Lady Rothsay quipped. “Are you familiar with London?”
“Not at all,” she replied. “I have only been here once before—when I was presented.”
“How wonderful that you have the opportunity to acquaint yourself with it again,” Lady Balfour said.
“If I am to be honest, I have yet to find the courage to venture out, as I haven’t the first clue where to go,” Hannah replied.
“Why the Park, of course!” Miss Isabella said with an eager clap of her hands. “You must promenade with us! It is the place to be seen!”
“And all the handsome gentlemen love to ride on Rotton Row, making it quite an enjoyable performance to take in,” Miss Arabella added with a wink and Mrs. Jacobs inhaled sharply.
Lady Rothsay was more than happy to smooth over the conversation. “Promenading is only one of the many activities London has to offer. There are, of course, more intellectual pursuits if that is more your interest, Mrs. Langley.”
“I am afraid intellectual pursuits are not a highlight for me. That is not to say I am uneducated. I do enjoy reading, of course, but I would not consider myself passionate about it.” Hannah realized she was making herself sound quite dull indeed. “I enjoy needlework. I have been doing quite a bit of it since arriving and I will need to find a proper shop to replenish my threads.”
“Then allow me to offer recommendations,” Lady Balfour interjected. “I enjoy needlework myself and swear by Elgin’s . Threads in all the colours of the rainbow and such high quality. Very little breakage.”
“Thank you for the recommendation, Lady Balfour.”
She glanced over at Simon and saw him speaking quietly with Lord Rothsay. She wondered what they were discussing. Business? Politics? The fact that Simon loathed his wife?
“Simon,” Lady Rothsay called out to grab his attention. “You must ensure Mrs. Langley has an account at Elgin’s so she might treat herself to all the threads she wants.”
“I have given Mrs. Langley free rein to set up accounts wherever she wants,” Simon replied.
“How I envy you newlyweds,” Mrs. Jacobs told Hannah. “Mr. Jacobs was equally as generous in those first months of marriage…until he received the notes to pay. After that he demanded I comply with a set budget. I suggest you take advantage and spend lavishly now before he changes his mind.”
“I would not even know where to spend lavishly,” Hannah replied, but then the light danced off the garnet at the centre of Lady Rothsay’s necklace. “Well, I suppose I might be tempted by a parure such as yours, Lady Rothsay. It is exquisite.”
“Thank you,” Lady Rothsay said with a smile as she touched the necklace lovingly. “Though the compliments should go to my husband. He commissioned it after the birth of our daughter.”
“The compliment should go to the jeweller,” Lord Rothsay said. “I merely described your lovely eyes to him and requested he fashion something to complement them.”
Lord Rothsay’s words were not mere flattery performed for the benefit of company. Hannah could not only hear the sincerity in his voice, but she could see the devotion in his eyes as he gazed at his wife. The marquess adored his wife and wanted the world to know it.
And Lady Rothsay not only welcomed his love, she obviously returned it, holding out her hand to her husband, who gladly crossed to her side to take it. A kiss to her gloved hand prompted sighs from all the ladies in the room.
Hannah glanced at Simon and caught him darting his gaze away from her and back to their hosts. She tried to decipher his expression, but she could not read him the way she had read Lord and Lady Rothsay.
His face was placid and calm, betraying nothing more than cordial pleasantness. A tranquil lake, smooth as glass. That was what she always thought of when she thought of Simon.
It had taken nearly two decades before she saw his temper, and it had only come about when she betrayed his trust and tricked him into their marriage.
How sad that she only knew what her husband was feeling when he was angry at her. It did not bode well for their evening of pretending to be happily married.
It also did not bode well for their future together, but she needed to concentrate on the now. If she worried about the future, she might make herself cry, and she was not about to cry on her first evening out.
“Now, Lady Rothsay, you must all tell me all the best places to visit here in Town,” Hannah said. “I am intent to learn as much as I can about my new home.”
***
“You two seem happy.”
Simon’s fork stopped halfway between his plate and his mouth, the slender slice of glazed duck breast hanging precariously on the tines. A disappointment, as the meat was delicious, but he set down his fork and offered their hostess a pleasant enough smile.
“As happy as any newlyweds,” he replied.
In four years, they had gone from knowing one another as Lady Rothsay and Mr. Langley to Cat and Simon, however she had yet to learn to tell when he was being deceptive.
“And I am happy for you both,” Cat said, patting him affectionately on the arm. “How wonderful it is that after so many years, you won her over.”
Rothsay must have told his wife about Simon’s childhood infatuation at some point. He should not be surprised. The two kept no secrets from one another.
It was not the sweet story Cat imagined, but he was not about to disabuse her of her happy imaginations.
“She is quite lovely,” Cat told him. “I look forward to getting to know her.”
“I would be grateful if you would take her under your wing. She needs companionship here in London.”
“A new wife should only have her husband for companionship,” Cat said with a sly smile. “At least in those first weeks of marriage.”
Simon wished he had kept eating. At least then he might have pretended the choking sound he made was from poor swallowing instead of from embarrassment.
Cat only grinned. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Simon. The social season is beginning. Invitations for the new Mrs. Langley to attend charity committees, balls, and assemblies are sure to flood your house, leaving little time for you.”
He was hopeful that would be true. He did not like the idea of Hannah sitting alone in the house. And it was not as if he could offer himself as company. Even if they did not have their troubles, he could not offer her any true companionship.
He knew business and politics, and that was it. She enjoyed embroidery. Apparently.
He had no idea she liked needlework. As far as he recalled, her only hobby was music.
When he first went to live at Cosburn Park, Hannah was already a talent at the harp, filling the house with music for hours every day. The sound of Hannah practicing her scales was a prominent part of so many of his childhood memories. And when she had mastered the harp, she moved on to the pianoforte, learning it almost as well.
She was a talent who had loved to play for everyone, although John had been her favourite audience. He would come to the house every day to stand at the pianoforte and turn the music sheets for her, basking in her talent and beauty.
Perhaps that was why Hannah had replaced music with embroidery. As far as Simon could recall, Hannah had not put fingers to any instrument since John had died. Perhaps music now caused too much pain for her.
It would not be the only thing that Hannah had given up in her mourning for John, but it would be the greatest shame. She was not only a brilliant talent; she adored playing.
Or she had.
The truth was that he did not know Hannah anymore. The friendship they once shared was a childhood memory, like her playing music.
Now they were grown and shared nothing except their marriage.
“I would never begrudge Hannah her entertainment. A plethora of invitations for her would be welcome,” Simon replied, picking up his fork again and finding the duck no longer tasted as good as it had before.
“I shall be happy to fulfill your request and make her my friend,” Cat said. “Theo will want a full report about her. She likely only just received the letter I wrote her about your marriage.”
“You have saved a letter for me to write to Camden,” he replied. “How does Lady Camden fare?”
“Quite well. She is disappointed that the days are getting longer again, giving her less time to observe the night sky, but she writes that her days are largely occupied with her newest committee. They elected her chairwoman of the committee to build a school for the area children.”
A remarkable accomplishment for a woman who once avoided being noticed. Perhaps it was something in the water up in Yorkshire. After all, her husband had done his own about face. Once an indulgent, spoiled dandy, Camden had become a diligent landlord deeply invested in his estate’s future.
His transformation had been the reason Simon and Rothsay had invested in Camden’s proposal to build a textile mill. The project was coming along nicely, and they were hopeful to be up and running within the next two years.
“Lady Rothsay has said she will take us. Oh, you must join us, Mrs. Langley!”
“Is that my name I hear?” Cat asked Miss Arabella.
“I was telling Mrs. Langley about The Diorama and its promise that patrons can witness the transformation of the Scottish Highlands from day to night right there in Regent’s Park,” Miss Arabella told her. “She is eager to witness it herself.”
“I had no idea such interesting sights could be found here,” Hannah said. “I am afraid my shortened first season did not give me the opportunity to learn much of the city.”
“Why was it cut short?” Miss Isabella asked.
“Unfortunately, illness struck,” Hannah answered solemnly. A short answer, but one that would not beg for any follow-up questions.
The ladies nodded sympathetically at having her season ended so tragically. They would likely be even more sympathetic if they knew it had not been Hannah who had become ill, but her fiancé instead. And if they learned blood sickness had swiftly claimed John? A river of tears would be sure to fall.
“We would be happy to help you make up for your truncated season,” Cat told Hannah, who did her best to smile at their kind hostess, but Simon could see the sadness in her eyes. He wished he could feel sympathy, but envy always won when the memory of John intruded.
It was ridiculous to envy a dead man, yet it was difficult not to be when he occupied all of Hannah’s heart.
He turned his attention back to his food as the ladies continued to make recommendations of all the places Hannah needed to see in London. This was good. Hannah would have plenty to occupy her now.
Maybe then he could stop worrying that she was lonely and would no longer feel the need to check in on her. It was why he had been returning to sleep at the house the last few nights, having his valet provide him with a rundown of Hannah’s daily activities, which were few and far between.
With her now having friends to amuse her, he would not have a reason to check up on her and he could leave her alone.
The ladies worked out an extensive list of places Hannah must visit as they finished the meal, still adding more to the list as they went through to the drawing room at the conclusion of dinner. Simon and Rothsay stayed at the table to enjoy a glass of port, discussing the current session of Parliament and the latest reports from Camden regarding the mill. Standard talk for them and nothing involving his marriage, for which he was grateful.
Unfortunately, that was not to last as they went through to the drawing room, where the ladies happily greeted them and one of the Bellas hit him with a request.
“Mr. Langley, you must tell us how you proposed to Mrs. Langley. When we asked her, she said we should wait to ask you because you tell the story much better than her.”
Hannah looked at him helplessly, and he immediately understood. She had been uncertain what falsehood he wanted to present to the public when it came to their courtship, so had left it to him to create it.
“It was at a house party her parents were hosting,” he said. “Her father had invited an eligible gentleman with matrimony in mind. As I did not want to lose my opportunity, I proposed quite swiftly. The first night of the party, as a matter of fact.”
“Oh, how romantic,” Miss Isabella said with a sigh. “I hope my future husband is as decisive as you, Mr. Langley.”
If he is, you shall have to wait quite some time for a proposal, Miss Isabella.
He sensed Hannah’s eyes on him and the sadness still lingered there. Was she comparing his forced proposal to John’s proposal? Simon was certain John’s proposal had been absolutely perfect, as John always was.
He looked away and his eyes fell on Cat and Rothsay. She was absentmindedly stroking Rothsay’s forearm while his crossed leg leaned against her knee. The two of them could not help but touch one another, needing that connection without even realizing it.
Despite the fact that they had not known one another when they wed, Cat and Rothsay now had the perfect marriage. Quite a contrast to Simon, who had known his wife for most of his life and yet had a miserable marriage.
He would spend his entire life married to a woman who mourned another man. There would be no more gentle affection or playful flirtation for him while the most enticing and attractive woman he had ever met shared his home. It would be a life of unwanted celibacy, having plighted his troth to the only woman who would never desire to share his bed.
Yet he could not let the world see his sadness. His life was now about pretending to be happy for the benefit of others.
He had feigned happiness for Hannah and John for years. It would be easy enough to do the same for himself and Hannah.
***
Hannah was practically trembling on the silent carriage ride home from Rothsay House, and she did not know how much longer she could keep herself from screaming. She was furious with her husband!
Simon had been all cheerful smiles for their hosts and their guests. All night he had exuded an irresistible charm that captivated the young ladies and matrons alike after dinner. He had been an active conversationalist and had volunteered to be first when the Bellas had suggested they play French charades.
Yet the moment he was back in the carriage and away from other’s eyes, the facade of a charming gentleman fell away in an instant. There were no happy smiles for his wife as they journeyed home, once again silent and staring out the window as if she was not even here.
Simon’s duplicity shocked her. He had played the doting husband before his friends, a performance for the ages indeed. After all, he would never want his friends to know the truth.
Of course he would play the perfect part for them, for only their opinion matters. Not his own wife’s, of course. Oh no, never hers!
No, he would ignore her every day, never speak another word to her, leaving her completely alone so that she might descend into madness from the lack of attention and care.
Perhaps he had plotted such a plan with that secret mistress of his that he kept in his secret apartments. Enjoying her dark-haired beauty and voluptuous curves as they devised how he would drive Hannah over the brink of insanity so he would finally be free of her.
A dastardly plot, but I would not put it past him, especially with that nasty mistress of his whispering in his ear!
Perhaps that was not quite fair, as the evil Simon she conjured in her head bore little resemblance to the quiet man sitting next to her in the carriage.
They arrived at their house and finally he looked at her, but only because he needed her to alight before he could do so himself. She wondered if she simply sat here, how long would it take before he finally spoke to her, if only to request she move out of his way?
Though holding him hostage in the carriage was tempting, Henry had already opened the carriage door. She did not want a witness to the discord between her and her husband. It was awful enough that the servants knew he spent as little time with her as he could manage. She was not about to hold him hostage in front of a footman.
She climbed down without a word and entered the house, Bailey at the ready to help remove her mantle. Simon entered behind her, quick to hand off his hat and cloak to another footman, and then he waited politely at the bottom of the stairs, his arm at the ready.
“Ah yes, we must play the part when there are witnesses,” she snapped.
He frowned. “Whatever does that mean?”
“Your role as an attentive and happy husband does not need to extend to the house,” she said. “Your friends are no longer here to appreciate it and the staff already know the truth.”
She ignored Simon’s offered arm and set off up the stairs alone, but he was quick to follow at her heels.
“I was not about to air our grievances in public, Hannah,” he said.
“ Our grievances? They are not our grievances. They are your grievances! Only you are angry.”
“You appear angry now,” he said, although it was quieter, as if he only meant it for himself.
As they reached the first floor, she spun around to face him. “You know what I mean! You are punishing me. I have apologized for wronging you. If you do not want to forgive me, very well, but do not continue to punish me. I refuse to spend the rest of my life paying for one mistake.”
“And yet I will!” Simon spat back, his eyes darkening, the angles of his cheekbones harsher as his upper lip twisted. “You have locked me down. Castrated me for the rest of my life. Living as a grieving fiancée may have been enough for you, but I desire a life beyond that of a monk. And yet you have sentenced me to it all the same.”
His frank words shocked her. She had never expected Simon to speak of such an indelicate topic. In her eyes, he had always been the definition of a proper gentleman—virtuous even, although he was not particularly religious.
Maybe she viewed him so because she did not know him beyond the boy she had known during her youth. She did not consider him as possessing desire, let alone lust, yet he must. He was a man, after all. A handsome, virile and rich man that a certain class of women would find quite enticing.
“I thought men in your position would take on a mistress,” she said, the dark-haired beauty she had conjured up flashing through her mind.
Her words only made Simon sneer more. “Of course that would be your answer. My honour has always been dismissed so easily by you. I swore a vow to be faithful to you before God and man, Hannah. I intend to keep it.”
And he said it as if it was the worst punishment in the world.
It was exasperating. It seemed no matter what she said, it was the wrong thing.
“I do not understand what you want from me, Simon. Could you not simply tell me what it is that you want from me and I will give it to you so we might move beyond anger?”
His eyes flashed with a strange light that sent a shiver of awareness through Hannah.
“Oh, there are many things I want from you, Hannah, but you would blush at them all.”
His voice was low and raspy, making her breath quicken. She became acutely aware of the fact that they were quite close, and she wondered if his heart was pounding as hard as her own. Simon’s cologne teased at her nose, mingling with the jasmine perfume she dabbed behind her ears, a potent combination that scattered her thoughts.
He looked down at her mouth and she leaned into him, drawn by some unseen force. He licked his lips, and that shiver moved through her again, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
Simon stepped away from her as he cleared his throat, breaking that heady connection between them.
“Goodnight, Hannah.”
He fled to the drawing room, closing the door behind him and leaving her utterly perplexed.
What had just occurred? What was that moment of awareness between them? And what did he mean about wanting many things from her that would make her blush?
She would never know because he had once again gone back to ignoring her.
Well, she would no longer tolerate this freeze from him.
He might be different than the thoughtful and kind Simon she knew at Cosburn Park, but she was still the same Hannah he knew at Cosburn Park.
The Hannah at Cosburn Park would never let Simon avoid her. The Hannah at Cosburn Park would force him to speak to her, whether he liked it or not. It was time for that Hannah to make an appearance here in Hanover Square.
She marched into the drawing room where a single lamp cast a small pool of light in the dark room. Simon stood by the sideboard with a drink in hand, shadows darkening half his face, although they did not mask his surprise at seeing her enter.
“I thought I bid you goodnight.”
“I want to know what you meant,” she said, crossing the room to stand before him. “What is it that you desire from me? Would it make amends for what I did?”
Simon shook his head, a frustrated laugh escaping his lips before he brought his glass to them, taking a long drink, before he answered. “You have no idea what you are asking.”
“Tell me.”
To atone for her mistake, she was willing to do anything.
His eyes moved over her again, her stomach dropping and her knees trembling with the way they swept over her body. He set down his glass and stepped close to her again, forcing her to tilt her head back so she could meet his gaze.
“What do I want? You, Hannah. I want you.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I want to kiss you. I want to touch you. I want to taste you.” He leaned in close, his low voice whispering against her ear. “I want to know the sounds you make when you come. I want to know what it is like for your wet heat to clench around me. I want to take you in all the ways I’ve dreamed of.”
His scandalous admission shocked her to her very core. She never heard such wicked words, and she did not expect them to course through her veins to become a sudden ache between her legs.
That it was Simon who spoke the words was astonishing. The only time she had ever considered a man’s attraction to her had been John. He was to be her husband, and she wanted him to find her beautiful. After he died, the idea had been irrelevant. Attraction only mattered in a marriage, and she never intended to marry.
But now she was married.
To Simon.
A man who just declared he had dreamt of all the ways he wanted to take her.
There is more than one?
His admission sparked something inside her, that awareness she felt before finally given a name.
Desire.
It had been some time since she felt it, no wonder she had not recognized it.
It felt… good . And it had been so long since she felt good. She was desperate for more and so she crossed the last little distance between them to kiss him.
Simon stood stock still, lips unmoving, hands stiff at his side. It was only when Hannah placed her hand on his cheek that he came out of his shock, letting out a groan before he kissed her back.
His lips were surprisingly soft, and she remembered a similar thought going through her mind that first time she kissed him. And just as with the first kiss, she marvelled at his skill. His tongue licked into her mouth, teasing and caressing, making her shiver and quake.
His arms went around her, one hand settling at the small of her back as the other slid up her spine to rest at her nape. He was a wall before her, warm and solid, such a reassurance that she pressed even closer, her breasts flattening against his chest as she gripped his shoulders.
He groaned as he tore his mouth from hers, panting frantically as he dropped his mouth to her throat, sucking hard on the delicate skin. His hand at the small of her back dropped to her bottom, pulling her hips tight against his own, and she could feel his growing arousal even through her skirts.
She let out a moan, threading her fingers through his hair as he licked her throat. “Please, I need…”
He froze, his frantic breath whispering over her skin, before he lifted his head to look her in the eye. “Tell me. Why are you doing this? Why did you kiss me?”
“Because I wanted to,” she answered before leaning in for another kiss, but he pulled further away.
“ Why did you want to?”
She frowned, unsure of how to answer the question. Was simply wanting to not enough?
“Because kissing you makes me feel good,” she answered as honestly as she could.
The way the light died in his eyes, she knew that had been the wrong answer.
“You are using me again.”
She was unceremoniously let go, Simon efficiently extracting himself from her and rushing from the drawing room before Hannah could truly understand what had happened.
The haze of desire lingered despite the cooling air around her. By the time she truly understood what he had said, Simon was long gone and when she looked out the window to the street, she could see him climbing into the carriage.
She was alone again. Confused and alone.
She had broken Simon. Her selfishness ruined his life and now she was torturing them both by pretending they could ever be friends again.
She could not stay here any longer. It would be better for both of them if they lived apart.
She would return to Cosburn Park. Papa might have forced her to marry, but he would not turn her away from her family home. She and Simon would not be the first married couple to live apart, nor would they be the last.
Yes, it would be better for both of them if she were gone.