He covered them both with the blanket before pulling her close. “I’m glad.”
She worried her lower lip as her fingers splayed across his hard chest. Now what? There seemed to be an awkward silence between them. Was this normal? She doubted Louisa and Harry had a difficult time speaking to each other after making love. Then again, they had been friends for years before they finally consummated their relationship.
She wanted to question Simon on his reserve but didn’t. How could she remark on his remoteness when she was feeling the same? Perhaps all couples felt this way. If only she knew. Thankfully, a loud rap at the door interrupted her musing.
“I have your dinner, Mr. Kingsley,” a feminine voice sounded from the hall.
Emma moved off him and dove under the covers. “There’s a dressing gown on the table for you.”
“Just a moment,” Simon replied, moving the coverlet off him.
Under the coverlet, she could only hear the movements of him walking about the room, opening the door and then closing it again.
“You can come out now.”
She flipped the covers off her head and sat up. “Something smells delicious.”
“Don’t get up,” he said, seeing her toss the blanket off. “We shall dine in bed.”
“As you wish.” She pulled the coverlet back over her as he brought the tray to the bed. He placed it on her lap and then scrambled back under the blankets with her. Once he had settled, she uncovered the plates. Her mouth watered at the sight of roast beef, potatoes, rolls, and peas. She’d barely eaten today with her nervousness about the races.
“I had thought we would get nothing but a couple of meat pies,” she commented while he poured them both a glass of the wine that Mrs. Houser provided.
“I do believe Mrs. Houser is trying to impress us, so we return someday.” He corked the wine before handing a glass to her. He held up his glass in salute. “To a losing day at the races, but quite worth the loss.”
“I suppose I shall have to drink to that.” Emma sipped her wine, enjoying the fruity essence as it slipped over her tongue. After placing her glass on the bedside table, she attacked her dinner.
“Tell me,” Simon asked with a forkful of beef. “Are you finally finished with that damned list of yours?”
She chewed in silent thought. This had all started with a list. Yet, each item on her list had either been completed with or interrupted by Simon Kingsley. Perhaps not every item, after all, she introduced herself to Mr. Simpson. Only to be reprimanded by Simon. And he was not the direct cause of her ejection from Almack’s. Of course, her banishment from Almack’s happened because of dressing as a boy at his gaming establishment. So indirectly, he had something to do with it all.
“Emma?”
Blinking, she nodded. “I suppose, except I still wish to find someone to teach me to paint in oils. But this time, I will only do so with Louisa’s assistance. So you don’t have to worry about me any longer.”
He tilted his head at her. “Worry?”
“Well, you have been involved in almost every one of the items on my list over the past month.”
He chuckled before sipping his wine. “Indeed, I have.”
“Why did you do it, Simon?”
?
?To save your reputation.”
“Why? No one asked you to do that. You spoiled my plans by trying to save my reputation.” She reached for her glass and sipped her wine.
He stared down at his almost empty plate. “I did not want your name damaged.”
Her lips twitched at the irony of being ruined by the man who didn’t want her to be ruined. “Why?”
Sighing, he moved his plate to the nightstand and then cleared the tray off her lap. Clasping her ankles, he slid her down off the pillows before stretching out, covering her body with his. “Because you are all that is good while I am all that is bad. I wanted nothing evil to taint you as it has me.”
Emma’s heart ached for him. Cupping his cheeks, she whispered vehemently, “You are not bad or evil.”
“If I weren’t, you would not be laying naked under me right now.”