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“Simon,” Harry warned. “The first rule of privilege is never to annoy the butler.”
“I apologize, Jenkins. I am still new to this world.” There was an undercurrent of humor to his voice.
“Of course, sir.” Jenkins closed the door behind them. “Breakfast will be up in a moment.”
Harry and Simon walked to the morning room and waited as the footmen carried trays of eggs, herring, ham, toast, pastries, tea, and coffee. Once all the food arrived, he dismissed the footmen.
Simon sipped his coffee and then grimaced. “I will send over a blend of my coffee. This is dreadful stuff.”
They ate in silence for a few moments, but Harry knew the quiet wouldn’t last. He adjusted his posture slightly. An ache at his midsection reminded him that he would likely feel quite sore tomorrow.
“All right, then,” Simon started as he placed his coffee cup back on the table. “What happened last night?”
“Nothing happened.” Except he kissed Louisa. Which turned out to be more amazing than his imagination could have envisioned.
Simon laughed. “Harry, while I haven’t known you for long, I do know evasion when I see it.”
“I danced with Louisa,” he admitted slowly.
“And is there an issue with dancing with a friend?”
“No, in fact, we were both a little surprised by the thought that we had never danced together. What bothered me was watching her dance with the other gentlemen. It shouldn’t have annoyed me, but it did. I’m supposed to find her a husband.”
Simon jerked his head toward Harry. “I beg your pardon? I don’t believe I heard that last bit right. I thought you said you were supposed to find Miss Drake a husband.”
Harry nodded. “We agreed upon it when she visited me over Christmas.”
“She visited you...with her mother?”
“No.” Harry stared down at his plate. “She came alone. That is how Charlotte came to know her.”
Simon covered his mouth as if trying to hide a smile. “Just so I understand, Miss Drake paid a visit to you over Christmas, alone. She did this to ask you to find her a husband. While there, she met Charlotte, who seems completely taken with her. And you agreed to find her a husband.”
“Yes, that sums it up.”
“The woman you love wants a husband, but not you?”
Harry glanced over at his brother. “I do not love her.”
Liar. Damned conscience.
“I see,” Simon commented. “And she doesn’t love you?”
“No. We are strictly friends. Nothing more than that.”
Simon shrugged as he ate a bite of eggs. “Very well. You don’t love her. She doesn’t love you. Then seeing her dance with other men shouldn’t be a bother, now should it?”
“You are a very annoying younger brother.”
“Thank you,” Simon replied with a smirk. “I believe you have a decision to make, brother dear. Either marry the girl yourself or find her a husband and spend the rest of your life watching her from afar. Because no matter how much you deny it, the fact is, you are in love with her.”
“It matters not,” Harry admitted slowly. “She does not want to marry me.”
“You’re a duke. What girl wouldn’t wish to marry you?”
“Louisa Drake.”
Simon frowned as he scraped his chair back. “I hate to run, but I have a meeting at noon. Harry, are you certain she doesn’t want to marry you?”
