Chapter Six #2
Outside in the gardens, I’m sitting in a soft patch of grass with Theo rolling in my lap. Simon is sitting a few feet across from me, leaning his weight back on his arms.
“Wait, is this the urgent task Henry told you about at the tournament? Bringing me a dog?”
Simon offers a relaxed shrug. “The king honors me with his trust.”
“Apparently so.” Theo scratches at a shiny pleat in my skirt, and Simon’s lips twitch as he watches.
My gaze lingers on the cut under his eye, which I’m glad to see has been cleaned up since the joust. I’d ask Bessie to have a look at it, but I’d never hear the end of it if I did.
I’m wondering if I could set up an impromptu urgent care appointment between the two of them when Theo begins to squirm in my lap.
As I struggle to wrangle him, I realize that he’s doing everything in his power to run off in Simon’s direction.
“You know, I’m trying not to be offended by just how much Theo prefers you to me, but it’s getting difficult.”
Simon chuckles as I keep switching my hands under Theo’s belly, trying to keep hold of him. “Theo doesn’t prefer me,” he says.
“Really?” I place the puppy on the ground, and he immediately darts over to Simon, jumping up and down in front of him in a desperate plea to be held. Simon tenderly picks him up and rests him in the curve of his arm.
“That was little more than luck,” he tells me.
Not for nothing, but Simon could make a killing selling pictures of himself holding puppies. It’s a niche market, but I’m now a part of the fandom.
“Right,” I reply. “Was it luck that helped you win the joust today, too?”
“In part. Training is required, of course, but luck is the deciding factor in all things.”
“I’d agree with that.” I scoot myself closer on the grass, getting myself within arm’s reach to scratch Theo’s beckoning belly. “I’m starting to think that I’m notoriously unlucky.”
Simon looks at me in slight surprise. “Few people would agree with that.”
I almost don’t say anything, but then I hear myself say, “Few people know the whole story.”
He hesitates. “Would you tell me the story?”
His question brings an unexpected weight pressing down on me, but I breathe it away as I pet Theo again. I can’t be honest, even though Simon makes me want to.
“I guess—sometimes it feels like I’m living someone else’s life. Does that make sense?
Seconds tick by as he looks at me, not just seeing but really looking, like he’s trying to peel back every layer. I turn my attention to Theo, so I don’t instantly regret what I just said.
“It does make sense,” he soon answers, “and I often feel the same way.”
My eyes flick up to find his. “How so?”
Simon resettles Theo in his arms. “I was originally a second son. I had an older brother. Everyone loved him. Even me. They say second sons are always jealous of their elder brother, but I never was. I liked things as they were. Neville basked in the expectations that were set out for him, and I was left to my own devices. He was meant to come to court, and I was to be a soldier.”
“Did you want to be a soldier?” I ask.
Simon gently places Theo on the grass between us. “Not quite.”
“Why not?” Theo starts nibbling on the edge of my dress, and I move the material back and forth for him to catch it as I go on. “Soldiering seems like something you would be good at it.”
He starts to smile, but it quickly falls.
“I’ve seen the fear in men’s eyes when they face me.
And the aftermath of what I’ve done to them in a joust.” A flicker of something unreadable passes through his eyes—not quite regret, but close—before he pulls a strand of grass out of the ground and rubs it between his fingers. “I don’t have a taste for it.”
I place Theo back in my lap. “Why did you even start to do it, then? The jousts, I mean?”
“My father believed that doing anything else would be a waste of my strength. And disagreeing with him was . . . an unpleasant experience. It was also what brought me to favor with the king.” His voice dips when he mentions his father, and I notice as his jaw tenses.
My eyes meet his, and I inadvertently shift forward a little. “What happened to your brother? If you don’t mind my asking?”
“A riding accident,” he answers. “Neville recovered at first, but then he fell ill, and he was gone within a week. It never felt right for me to take his place. I wasn’t loved as he was.
I wasn’t bred for a life at court.” He pauses before going on.
“That’s another reason why the king shows me favor.
He said we’re both living our brothers’ lives, and that makes us alike. ”
Henry lost an older brother, too? I make a mental note as Simon’s words make me think of Henry’s relationship with the other courtiers who serve him.
Does he have little hidden connections to all of them?
For the most part, the courtiers seem to be strong young men, full of life and promise.
It would make more sense for Henry to push these reminders of his past away, but he chooses to keep them close.
They’re mirror images of what’s gone for him—what he’s so desperately trying to get back.
“Do you think you have a lot in common with the king?” I ask him next.
“Not so much as he believes.” When I glance up, I catch Simon looking at me. He’s unapologetic. He doesn’t turn away. “But perhaps we do have some commonalities.”
I shift my eyes back to Theo, my pulse jumping. “You mean me?” My chest tightens as I wait for his answer.
“I should like to learn more about you,” Simon says.
I take a breath and lean back, mirroring Simon’s stance as he keeps his weight on his hands in the grass behind him. “What would you like to learn?”
“Ideally, everything.” My hand slips a little, but I don’t think he catches it. No guy has ever wanted to learn everything about me before. It’s a strange sensation to move through, and more enjoyable than I predicted.
“I like talking to people,” I say after a few seconds. “And being there for someone at the right time, when they might not have anyone else to be themselves with. And I especially like to see someone realize that they’re stronger than they thought.”
I may have just described the best aspects of my job instead of talking about myself, but Simon’s smile is warm. It keeps me at ease, until I remember that I’m supposed to be the aspiring psychologist here, not him.
“Tell me about you,” I swiftly counter.
Simon sits forward, moving his hand down between us, and Theo immediately lunges over to gnaw at it. “If it were up to me, I’d be outside with horses all day. And dogs.”
Theo starts tracking Simon’s hand as he moves it from spot to spot, and I can’t help my answering grin when he eventually pounces on it. “I can see that,” I tell him. “Is that why the king picked you to bring me Theo?”
“Most likely,” Simon answers. “The king saw me tame a spooked horse in the midst of a hunt once, and now he relies on me for all things animal related. And for anything requiring brute strength, of course.”
“Of course.”
Just then, Simon turns his hand up and Theo nuzzles into his palm. He leans down to whisper something near his ear, and I’m intensely curious to know what he said. When he sits back up, Theo is calmer than he’s been all night, seeming content beyond reason as he rests his head in Simon’s hand.
I’m riveted by the encounter, so much so that Simon then asks, “Would you like me to teach you how to calm him?”
I sit up at his question, hoping I look more intellectually interested than ogling.
“All right,” I answer, nudging a little closer.
Simon adjusts his body so that he’s sitting beside me. Our dynamic feels more intimate now, but I refuse to make things weird. Or to look at him. If I don’t look at him, I won’t make things weird.
“With dogs, especially smaller dogs, I bring myself to their level, and I keep my hand open and relaxed.”
He leans in a little toward Theo, and I do the same, switching my stance so that my legs are tucked underneath me.
“I also keep my voice low, so as not to startle them, despite how happy I am to see them.” He keeps his eyes trained on Theo and speaks again, his tone lulling and gravelly. “Easy there, now. You’re safe here.”
I’m more affected by his voice than Theo is. I don’t know if I want Simon to guide me into a meditation or into an orgasm—except for the fact that I would definitely pick the orgasm.
“Once they’ve calmed, I make sure my touch gentle. Approaching overhead can be intimidating.” I crane my neck to look at him and find his eyes already on me. “Sometimes under the chin is better.”
I don’t move. I don’t breathe. My skin is vibrating, but I’m perfectly still as Simon slowly runs the tip of his fingers under my chin, tilting my head up and holding my heated gaze with his.
“I don’t feel very calm,” I tell him, my voice shaking along the way.
Simon’s jaw softens as his eyes flick to my mouth. “Nor do I.”
He starts lean in. I let out an uneven exhale, and he’s close enough to feel it. My insides are swirling as I lean in, too. His nose brushes mine. I close my eyes. This is about to fucking happen.
And then Theo starts to bark.
Really, really loudly.
We turn toward the noise, our movements abrupt and awkward.
Theo is barking into the darkness, and my heart stops as I pray that he’s not sensing someone nearby.
If anyone just saw us, I’d be dead—literally.
I jump to my feet before I can self-sabotage my life and Catherine’s life any further than I almost just did.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “That was all me. I apologize.”
Simon stands a split second after me, his eyes hazy and his cheeks red. “No. The fault was mine.”
“It’s no one’s fault,” I tell him. “Everything’s fine. You’re good. I’m good. Theo’s good. We’re all good.”
But are we good? My unsteady heartbeat suggests I’m in the early stages of cardiac arrest, and come to think of it, I’m fine with that. I can’t marry the king tomorrow if I drop dead here and now.
“I should escort you inside,” Simon says.
But I’m already in motion, scooping up Theo and moving in the direction of the palace before walking backward to face him. “I can find my way. Thank you for tonight. For hanging out with me, I mean.”
Simon’s brow furrows. “‘Hanging out’?”
I stop walking. “Never mind. I’m rambling.
I had a head injury recently, as you know.
You were present for part of it. So if you hear me using strange sayings or words like ‘hanging out,’ that’s why.
” He only continues to look at me. I hold Theo to my chest like a security blanket.
“I’m going to go now. Have a good night. ”
“Good night, Lady Catherine.”
I try to walk away, but my feet don’t move, deciding instead to hold me hostage. “Since you keep calling me Lady Catherine, does that mean you want me to call you Lord Gainsford? I will if you want me to.”
“No,” he says with a little shake of his head. “I like to hear you say my name.”
Holy. Shit.
“Then you should probably start calling me just Catherine.”
He doesn’t say it, but his eyes do. I turn and beeline it back inside as fast as my feet can carry me.
This is okay. What I did was okay. It wasn’t inappropriate.
Henry won’t cut my head off for it. It happens all the time.
Simon can touch my face and almost kiss me without my wanting it to develop into something more. We can absolutely just be friends.
Needless to say, my freshly horny chinny-chin-chin vehemently disagrees.