He smiled at the agitated tone in her voice. “No, you are safe for a few days yet.”
She gave him a quick curtsy. “Farewell, Mr. Kingsley.”
“Good day, Miss Drake.” He walked up the steps and stopped halfway as Louisa descended. “Good morning, Louisa.”
She leaned toward him and whispered, “I will have a word with you later.”
“As you wish.”
Damn. Had Emma spoken of their kiss to her sister? Did ladies kiss and tell? He’d thought they were too well-bred for such things. Perhaps he was wrong. Damn!
Maybe he should follow Emma’s example and flee the house. There was no use in that now. With temptation departing for town, he could enjoy the rest of the week.
He quickly changed into riding clothes and slipped out the servants’ door to avoid everyone else. As the lads saddled Lucifer, he paced the stables. His mind couldn’t help but remember what if felt like to have Emma Drake against his body, her full breast in the palm of his hand. The little innocent had no idea how close he’d been to laying her on the sofa and making love to her all night.
And that was the issue. Her innocence. The woman had never been kissed before yesterday. How was that even possible at the age of two and twenty?
Once his horse was ready, he rode off, attempting to get one beautiful blonde out of his head.
SIMON DIDN’T RETURN to the house until nearly four. It wasn’t that he was precisely avoiding his sister-in-law. He just saw no need for a dressing-down from her when he’d berated himself all day. By now, she might be too busy with Daphne and her other guests to concern herself with him.
At least she should have been.
The instant he stepped into the corridor to return to his bedchamber, she caught sight of him from the salon.
“Simon, I need a word with you.” Louisa pointed her finger at him.
For a moment, he considered ignoring her and going straight to his room where she wouldn’t be able to speak with him. But he was no coward. He stopped and waited for her to reach him.
“Good afternoon, Louisa.”
“Not even close to a good afternoon,” she retorted, linking her arm in his. “Let us retire to the library for a brief tête-à-tête.”
“There is no need. I already know what you are about to say.”
“I hardly think so.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
She frowned up at him. He only used the honorific when in public or when he was annoyed with her. When they arrived in the library, she closed the door and turned to face him.
“What are you about, Simon?”
“Just say what you need to.”
She blinked her eyes quickly as if trying to hold back tears. “You kissed my sister,” she whispered. “Why?”
He walked to the small corner table and poured two snifters of brandy. Hearing her approach, he turned and handed a glass to her.
“Why does any man kiss a woman?”
She sipped her brandy before responding. “That depends on the man, I think.”
“Very well, why would a scoundrel like me kiss your sister?” He sank into a chair and stared at her.
“You desire her,” she mumbled before drinking more brandy.
“I suppose I do,” he replied softly. “But I am well aware that not only is Emma, your sister, but above my rank.”