Scoundrel (Beyond the First Blush) by Dier Debra

Author:Dier, Debra [Dier, Debra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dierington Press
Published: 2014-02-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

What a strange thing is man!

And what a stranger is Woman!

What a whirlwind is her head,

And what a whirlpool

full of depth and danger

Is all the rest about her.

—George Gordon, Lord Byron,

Don Juan

Simon turned his head on his pillow and stared into the sunlight, trying to sear away the compelling image that lingered in his mind—Emily looking at him, a wealth of longing and need in her eyes. It was damn hard to think of duty and country when he looked into her eyes and glimpsed a future just beyond his grasp. A future he desperately wanted.

From his bed, Simon stared into the rose garden that stretched out from the corner of the house. Did he have any chance of a future with Emily? He had come into her home to spy on her father. He had essentially blackmailed her into helping him without her even knowing what he was doing. Now he had the audacity to hope for a future with her.

Obviously he was delirious. The head wound was far worse than it seemed. He had as much chance of forging a future with Emily as Napoleon had for being invited to take up residence in Carlton House. Unfortunately, he could not carve the thought of Emily from his mind. He couldn’t sever the need for her that sank into his chest like the talons of a hawk. Unless he found a way to mend the bridges that lay burnt between them, he would regret it the rest of his days.

Emily felt the attraction. He knew it. Sensed it each time she was near. What would she do when she discovered the truth? He glanced to the door, sensing someone there. Digby was standing just inside the room, looking at him with a good deal of apprehension in his brown eyes.

“Begging your pardon, sir.” Digby closed the door and approached the bed holding a porcelain pot decorated with red tulips in his rough hands. “I’ve come to bring you a clean chamber pot.”

“Just as I suspected, Digby.” Simon smiled at his friend. “We have finally found you an appropriate position. Though I thought that particular duty would be handled by one of the housemaids.”

“I wasn’t sure if you be alone, sir. You look better than I thought you might.”

“The wound isn’t serious.”

Digby shoved the chamber pot under the bed. “From what I hear you were set upon by a highwayman. I am thinking that be a bag of moonshine.”

Simon rubbed his fingertip over the bandage wrapped around his brow. “Miss Maitland decided to deal with her problem in a most inventive fashion.”

Digby frowned. “By the looks of Beamish, you got a few licks in yourself, sir.”

Simon smiled. “A few.”

“To hear him tell it, ‘the thatch-gallows that set upon me was a true out and outer with his fives’. He said the highwayman gave him a facer he won’t long forget.” Digby rocked back on his heels, smiling like a father proud of his son’s first steps. “And Beamish has milled with Jackson and Belcher, sir.

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