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He couldn’t blame her for that outburst and felt a dash of pride that she might attempt to defend him. “Mrs. Drake, for the past month, your daughter has been attempting to do everything she could to ruin her reputation. I have saved her skin more times than I can count.”
“Not more than nine, actually,” Emma interjected.
“Nine times?” her mother repeated.
“Well, I couldn’t think of a tenth. And actually, only eight because you did not prevent me from introducing myself to Mr. Simpson.”
“Emma, you are not helping yourself,” Simon commented. “As I was saying, each time I saved her from herself, I said nothing, assuming that would be the end. But yesterday, not only did she steal my open carriage and race through the roads of England, she slept at an inn with me.”
Her mother fell back into her seat and wailed. “Oh, Emma! How could you?”
“I would like to offer my hand in marriage.”
“Marriage,” her mother spat like it was an evil word. “Marriage to you?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Drake sat up and stared at him. “My most beautiful girl married to a gaming hell owner and a bastard at that. No. She will marry a peer.”
Simon paused, thinking Emma would speak up, but she only stared at him shaking her head. How could he have been such a fool? She didn’t want to marry him.
He had been nothing but an item to cross off on her list. Last night had meant nothing to her. He should have known. After all, that was what had stopped him from making love to her before.
What kind of a fool was he to think a woman like Emma Drake would be different from every other woman he’d ever known? He was nothing to these ladies but a good time in bed. But he’d thought she was different.
After reaching for his hat, he stared at her mother and said, “I will give you one month to change your mind. If a babe results from this, you had better act quickly because I won’t take the chance of her doing the same thing with another man.”
Chapter 21
Four days later, Emma realized the scandal she’d expected never happened. Or if a disgrace had occurred, her mother had refused to mention it. Since Emma had seen no one since her return, she wasn’t positive, which it might be. She walked to her bedroom window and then pulled back the blue velvet drapes. The rain, which had been here for two days, did nothing to brighten her mood.
The street below her was quiet, with only a few people out in the constant showers. She wondered if there had been no scandal because the gentlemen kept their word, or had Simon paid them off, though how she hadn’t a clue.
How could she have been so foolish to think she could be with a man without some attachment for him? Attachment, maybe, but why did she have to fall in love with him?
Because she’d seen sides of him that he hid from others. His gentleness, his protectiveness. Oh, damn him! She brushed away tears that fell like the rain outside.
Simon had done the right thing and offered for her.
But she didn’t want to marry. At least she hadn’t. Did she now?
Marry a man who didn’t love her like Bolton?
No, she never wanted to experience that anguish again. With Bolton, a part of her had been relieved that he’d broken off the engagement. At least Bolton had loved her, not enough to disregard his mother, but there had been affection.
She felt no relief that her mother had rejected Simon for her. If anything, she felt guilty for not speaking up to him.
Should she have accepted Simon and hope he would come to love her?
No, Emma knew the offer was out of pity and honor. Never had he said a word about his feelings for her.
Because he didn’t have any.
She’d thrown herself at him too many times, and when he finally succumbed, why would he suddenly declare that he loved her. He hadn’t loved her. He only desired her.
After spending the last few days in her bedroom, contemplating her life, she had come to several conclusions. Her mother might have been correct that love in marriage didn’t matter. All that mattered was compatibility and kindness. Love only made a heart ache as hers did now. And she hated this feeling. The next time she saw him, which of course, would happen since he was Louisa’s brother-in-law, she would treat him coolly and not interact with him.
She had no wish for him to know that she had feelings for him. Feelings, she scoffed to herself. She loved him for all his bloody faults.
