She yawned as her eyes drifted closed. “I will return the favor.”
“I have no doubt, dear sister.”
Five
Sir Elias Drake,
Miss Máira Blair washorrifiedhonoured by myblunderingproposal, but rejected my suit.There truly is a God.She is with child.Do the right thing, you damned worthless arse and ‘Sir, if you argue word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.’
Astley
—The second drafted letter written by Simon Benjamin Clark, Earl of Astley to Sir Elias Louis Alistair Drake as Simon recovered from his injuries. He wrote it a month after Caillen’s sister, Miss Máira Blair refused his proposal of marriage. The first letter was thrown into the fire when he determined it to be illegible. After his second draft, he decided to delete his Shakespearean quote from The Two Gentlemen of Verona from the final letter. No one understood his references to the bard’s famous works, except the woman he loved.
Simon woke to the sound of her voice directing servants within his household.
“Bloody hell.”
Even on his deathbed Caillen wouldn’t give him peace. He thought he was rid of her. Ross had given his word she would not return. Obviously, his best friend had succumbed to the charms of his blasted duchess. So much for childhood bonds when a woman chose to come between you.
He slowly sat up in his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The growth of his beard spoke of only a few days without shaving. Had his valet shaved him since he’d been home? Where was Chalmers?
His door slowly creaked open, and a blond head of hair attached to the most beautifully irritating woman he’d ever been plagued with knowing, poked inside. Their eyes met and she beamed. Beamed. At him? Was that even possible? Had he died and gone to heaven?
He gave himself a mental shake. Most definitely not. Saint Peter would bar the gates to his entry.
“You’re awake.”
“Unless I’m dead. Why else would you be smiling at me? Of all the people of the ton, I don’t believe you have ever graced me with such a joy.”
“That’s because you are alive.”
“You hate me.”
“Hate is such a strong word.”
“A word you’ve used quite often when expressing your opinion of me.”
“Pfff.” She waved her hand in the air as she walked into his bedchamber as if it were her own drawing room, and he was suddenly acutely aware of being naked under the covers.
“You annoy a person to the point they don’t have any words left in their head but the four-letter variety,” she said.
He could think of a four-letter word he wanted her to say over and over.Fuck me, Simon. Fuck me harder! Hard. Fuck me hard.He pushed his cock down before she observed his natural morning condition that was stirring to life even more with the visions he was trying to block out of his head. Damn and blast, he should have put on a new pair of smalls last night, but he’d been too exhausted to do anything but tear his smalls from his body and fall into bed after the fire had been dealt with. He certainly wasn’t going to ask one of his servants to bathe or dress him. They’d carried him all over the house most of the night. Where was that damned Chalmers?
“I’m naked,” he confessed. Maybe she would leave.
“I’ve seen you naked every day for the past three and a half weeks. Do you think today will be any different?”
“Today was supposed to be different. I banished you from my home. Where is Chalmers?”
“Your valet is no longer in your employ. I’m told when you were kidnapped, he was so distraught, he had to find a new position for his peace of mind. As for why I am here, I invited myself back, along with my sister.” She turned toward the door and yelled, “Máira!”
Good lord, her younger sister was here as well? This would not stand. It could not. “Where is Ross?” He demanded.
“He went home to be with his wife.” She turned toward the door. “Where is that girl? Máira!”
“I do not think it’s proper for a young miss?—”
The miss in question walked into his room without hesitation and dipped into a curtsey. He sighed and pulled up his bedclothes.
