“Even for a heathen?”
Harry went still. “What do you mean?”
“I heard a maid say that my mother was a heathen, and so was I.”
Simon sighed, hating how people thought of his beautiful niece because her mother had been Indian. “You are certainly not a heathen, Charlotte. A heathen is a person who doesn’t believe in God. Your mother was no heather, either. She believed in God and married in the church.”
“Did you know her, Uncle Simon?”
“No, I never met her. I only met your father a short time after she died.”
Charlotte frowned. “But you’re Papa’s brother. How did you not know him?”
Harry shifted. “That is a question for when you are older.”
“I’m five now. I should know everything.”
Both Harry and Simon laughed at the precocious girl.
“Your cousins are in the nursery waiting for you,” Simon said, hoping it would take her mind off her bastard uncle.
She scrambled off her father’s lap and raced out of the room.
“She is going to be the death of me,” Harry said as he rose out of his seat. “I suppose I must go greet my unwanted guests.”
“You seem to have a lot of them this week, including me.”
“You’re not unwanted, Simon. I should have thought to invite you too. Perhaps Daphne is feeling the same way I am and needed company.”
Simon wasn’t about to tell his brother that their sister seemed all too well. They walked back into the salon to find Ainsley, and Miss Drake had joined them. Seeing Ainsley sitting next to her on the sofa, Simon steeled his emotions. She was better off with Ainsley than a bastard with a sordid reputation. A purveyor of vice.
“Kingsley, I hadn’t expected to see you here,” Ainsley said with a nod.
“Indeed? You didn’t think I would be invited to my brother’s home?”
“Simon,” Louisa warned with a glare to him.
“Not at all,” Ainsley continued with a tight smile. “I only thought you would be too busy with your gaming hell.”
Yes, insult the working man worth tenfold the penniless earl. Even Simon’s estate in Kent was larger than Ainsley’s two combined. Not that Simon visited Kent very often. He’d won the land when a baron couldn’t stop gambling away his fortune. It was also how he’d come to own a lovely town home in Mayfair, which he leased each year for an outrageous sum of money.
“How was your trip down, my lord?” Miss Drake asked quietly to break the tension filling the room.
Ainsley turned his attention and charms on her. “Lovely until we hit the rain. But your brother-in-law’s family was wonderful company.”
Simon watched as Ainsley attempted to captivate Miss Drake’s attention. She seemed very polite, but he didn’t believe her reaction to the earl was anything but good manners. She didn’t appear the least bit attracted to Ainsley. Unlike the time in the butler’s pantry at Lady Huntley’s ball. She’d trembled with Simon’s nearness. Her breathing shallow and swift as if she’d wanted him to touch her...kiss her.
He closed his eyes for a long moment, wondering what her lips would feel like against his, how she would taste as his tongue brushed hers. With a quick shake of his head, he dismissed the idea. Emma was Louisa’s sister.
And he was nothing more than a wealthy bastard.
Chapter 11
When dinner finally ended, Emma, Louisa, and Daphne moved to the salon for tea as the men enjoyed their brandy. Emma sat nearest Louisa as Daphne wandered the room. All the while, Emma kept her ears open for the sound of the men. She’d made her plan earlier, and tonight she would receive her first kiss. Ainsley would do perfectly. He was very attentive, and she assumed he would propose soon. But she didn’t want a husband.
She wanted a kiss. It might be possible to get one if she asked Ainsley for a kiss before he proposed. She could say she wanted to be sure she desired him. Then she could reject his proposal and move on with her life.
“Louisa, I must apologize for intruding today of all days,” Daphne said as she paced the room. “Bloody hell, I don’t want tea. Why are women supposed to sit in a room and drink tea while the men sip on brandy? I want a brandy.”