Chapter Fifteen

T o all outward appearances, Simon might have seemed calm, but inside, he was anxious. Not for one second did he trust that dastardly Mr. Toppin, and since his warning with fists hadn't worked, the next step was to outright threaten him.

Or perhaps I'll buy some of his vowels and truly put him in a pickle.

But he shoved those disturbing thoughts from his mind, for Hattie clung to his hand and was visibly upset from the encounter with her former suitor. While Pennington made a decent speech welcoming everyone to the Valentine's Day ball, Simon tugged his wife a bit closer, put his lips to the shell of her ear, and whispered, "You are far too ravishing in that gown." The tops of her breasts visible above the scooped bodice were beyond tempting, and it was all he could do not to spirit her away to an empty room and have a bit of a tryst.

"Thank you." She lifted her face, but her smile was wobbly about the edges. "It was one of the new gowns I ordered due to your generosity."

"Is it generous, though, to keep one's wife in as many gowns or clothes that she wants or is it merely what a gentleman should do?" By accident, his gaze fell on a woman moving across the opposite side of the ballroom. "Well, damn my eye, it looks as if Mrs. Dove-Lyon has been invited to the ball."

"What?" Hattie turned about and she gasped. "It really is her. Do you think she wears veils all the time?"

"I couldn't say." The woman's concession to the holiday was a gown in a deep garnet color with a black robe that went over it. Her veils matched and were attached to combs in her upswept hair. She carried a black feathered fan which is used to further hide her face. "Perhaps it adds to the mystery surrounding her." Though he'd known she was married and had inherited the property the Lyon's Den sat on from her dead husband, he knew next to nothing else about the woman.

Then Pennington opened the ball and invited everyone to join him and his wife in the first waltz of the night.

Simon urged Hattie toward the parquet floor. "Come and share the waltz with me. We haven't done this together yet." And it would be the perfect opportunity for him to show off his wife to society at large. Their first event attended as a couple as well.

"You are far too excited for such exercise, Captain," Hattie whispered as they assumed the correct position for the opening sequence of the Viennese-style waltz. Amusement twinkled in her moss green eyes, and he had the distinct thought that it might be rather lovely to dive into those pools and drown.

"Can you blame me? It isn't often a man is fortunate enough to squire about such a beautiful woman, and he wants everyone to see." Then the first notes from the string quartet erupted into the air, he set them into motion.

Grateful that he learned the various different dances while in the navy, those skills served him well now as he went through the often-complicated steps. He agonized the moments when she partnered other men as the dance demanded, and when Hattie came back into his arms, he could breathe more easily. The other couples around them disappeared as all his concentration settled upon her.

The glide of their gloved hands against each other was beyond sensual; the rustle of her skirting a temptation. He adored her upswept blonde hair with the baby curls that clung to her neck, and strained to catch a whiff of the faint lilies-of-the-valley scent of her.

But when she gave him a soft smile each time they came back together, he swore he'd died and gone to heaven, for she was easily the best thing to happen to him in far too many years. Mysterious as the sea and just as surprising, his wife had shifting moods the same, and he was never quite certain what the day would hold.

It was quite a lovely surprise.

The one thing that marred the whole honeymoon period was the appearance of Mr. Toppin. Why wouldn't he take the hint and leave Hattie alone? By the time the waltz ended, Simon was more enamored of her than he'd been at the start of the evening, and what was more, he didn't care to stop the slide.

I love her.

There was a certain freedom in finally admitting that to himself.

Hattie simpered up at him. "You dance as well as you do everything else. Is there anything you can't do?"

"Keep secrets?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Billiards? Perhaps press soap." When he led her off the dance floor to make room for the next set, he saw a familiar face. "Let me introduce you to one of my other friends." Pulling her hand through the crook of his elbow, he brought her over to a man who wore round wire-framed spectacles with tinted gray lenses. "Lady Hattie, may I present you to Peregrine Barrows, the eighth Duke of Masterson. We've been friends for a few years, met through the Lyon's Den at a very lucrative table of farro."

"Your Grace." Slight awe threaded through her voice as she attempted a wobbly curtsy. "I am happy to meet you."

The other man inclined his head. Silver threads glimmered in his dark hair as he turned toward the sound of Hattie's voice. One of the interesting things about the duke was the fact he was blind. "Lady Hattie? Oh, I rather think it's Harriett, so that would make you Simon's new bride." He held out his hand, and Hattie slipped her fingers into his palm. Then the duke proceeded to raise her hand to his lips. "I hope you are doing well with my reprobate friend. Perhaps you will be just the thing to make him forget the sea."

"One never knows with sailors." When she giggled, Simon's gut clenched as a thread of jealousy went through him. "However, we are early enough in the relationship that we can course correct."

The fact she used military terminology endeared her to him even more. "Well, we will leave you to your enjoyment." Perhaps he could find a shadowy corridor to pull his wife into for a kiss or two.

"Thank you. I enjoy listening to the music and hearing the rustle of skirting because I can then imagine what everything looks like." He released Hattie's hand. "A pleasure, Lady Harriett."

"If I may be honest, Your Grace?" When the duke nodded, she continued in a low voice. "Don't let your infirmity become a crutch that prevents you from living. If you wish to dance, do it. Many of the steps are ingrained into us from childhood."

Simon lost a piece of his heart to her in that instant.

"I shall take that under advisement, my lady." The duke executed a half-bow from the waist before staring at Simon. "Take care of this one, Captain. She is a rare jewel."

"That she is, Your Grace." Once more, he threaded Hattie's hand into his crooked elbow. "Enjoy the evening." As they moved toward the side of the room, he whispered to her, "Let us find a quiet spot. I suddenly wish to kiss you."

"Why, Captain Huxley, isn't that chasing scandal?" But she winked. "I like it."

No sooner had they reached the double doors than Mr. Toppin rushed over to them.

His eyes were slightly bloodshot. Clearly, he'd been drinking and heavily. "Lady Hattie belongs with me. Not you." Since he didn't bother to keep his voice down, several people around them stared with curiosity.

"Buggar. Not this man again." With a pat to her hand, he slipped from her then fisted a hand in Mr. Toppin's cravat and propelled him into the corridor, away from a good portion of the guests. Hattie trailed after him. He shoved the other man against the wall. "Leave her alone. I won't ask you again."

Mr. Toppin pushed at Simon's arm until he was released. He straightened the knot of his cravat and looked past him to where Hattie stood. Then he glared directly into Simon's face, for they were of the same height. "If it weren't for you, I'd have won her and I need that societal connection, that dowry. What the hell did you do with it?"

"Put it into a separate account for my wife's sole disposal." Now was as good a time as any to reveal that to her. But he continued to stare at this annoying gnat of a man. "Regardless, you should love Hattie for herself… which is what I'm endeavoring to do." And that was the second revelation and the surprising truth.

"Oh!" When his wife peered at him with surprise in her rounded eyes, he knew he was definitely in love with her, and what was more, it was as natural as breathing.

"Enough!" Mr. Toppin slashed the air with a hand. Rage lined his face. "You are not good for her, and because you were forced into marriage with her, you ruined my chances. She was nearly in my pocket!"

"So you could use her to settle your damned debts? Discard her when the next courtesan came your way?" Simon poked at his shoulder. "Oh, but then you had the kidnapping bit of fiction ready to roll out if all else failed, hmm?"

"Argh!" Mr. Toppin tried to lunge at Hattie, but Simon stepped in front of her, preventing his access. "You told him about that?"

"Why wouldn't I? As I've told you multiple times, he is my husband."

"I refuse to accept that any of that is valid!" When Mr. Toppin's fist flew out, Simon wasn't ready, and the blow caught him in his midsection. "I will prove to everyone that I'm the better man for her."

Simon snorted. "How?" The noise the man was making had drawn more than a few people from the ballroom out to the corridor.

"I challenge you to a duel." People around the gasped. "Tonight, at midnight, at Mallow's Clearing in Hyde Park, we shall settle this matter with pistols drawn." His laughter sounded a tad unhinged. "You'd best find a second, Captain, someone who will make arrangements for you because mark my words, you won't leave the park alive." Then he fled down the corridor with a smug grin on his face.

"Merciful heavens." All the color drained from Hattie's face as she turned to face him. "You mustn't do this, Simon. He's not worth the potential cost."

"I—"

"And it is illegal besides," she continued, not giving him a chance to speak. "Beyond that, it is a stupid display of heroics, but there is no bravery involved in a duel."

"Hush." He felt far too grim to make a joke merely to make her smile. "The man won't leave you alone any other way, and you are my wife."

"So that allows you to make ridiculous decisions on my behalf?" As her voice rose, the Countess of Pennington came to the door.

Far too aware of their audience, Simon took her hand and pulled her along the corridor until they were out of earshot. Even still, he lowered his voice while holding her gaze. "I can't let this threat continue, but take heart. I am a good shot."

She shook her head. "You will kill him?"

That was usually the terms of a duel. "I have never killed anyone in cold blood before, not even while in the navy, but from provocation, yes."

"So you will kill him." It wasn't a question. "Or worse, he'll kill you." Her voice broke on the last word. "Don't do this!"

"Hattie, listen to me." Simon held her by the shoulders, made her stare directly into his eye. "Please don't worry. I am well versed in defense as well as combat."

She huffed. "I can't help but worry. This is stupidity, and you don't need to do it. I have already married you, you great lout!"

"Unless you want to be forever bothered by the determined and possibly slightly demented Mr. Toppin, I do."

"Oh, why are you so aggravating?" She burrowed into his arms even though they were at a public event, and he held her for the same. "I have only just discovered I might be enjoying your company more than what's good for me and now you're running off to do this stupid thing that might see you killed." The words were muffled by his lapel, but he heard them.

"Ah, sweeting." Simon couldn't help but grin. She hadn't said she loved him, but almost, and those words were nearly as good. Regardless, they gave him added courage. "I promise that nothing bad will happen to me." In fact, his mind was already racing over a few tricks he could use that would make a duel and its aftermath more convincing.

"How can you be so certain? Duels are nothing but luck and many times, who is the faster draw is also a cheat." She pulled away enough so that she could look into his face. "It is far too dangerous merely to teach a man with pockets to let a lesson. Life will do that on its own."

"You are wiser than your years, I think." And once this damned duel was finished, there would be no more obstacles to his happiness. Daring much and risking sure gossip, Simon held her head between his hands, lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her long and slowly. When he pulled away, he nodded. "I need to go talk to Ashbury. He'll be my second, but remember, I am an honorable man. Everything will work out right as rain."

All of that required prior planning, and time was of the essence.