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Simon improved every day, and by the fourth day, he finally decided not to wait for the physician’s approval to get out of bed. He winced as Harry helped him up. His chest still felt like it was on fire. Once on two feet, he stood there for a long moment, trying to gain his composure and fight the pain he still felt.
“Do not tell Emma I’m up yet.”
“I understand,” Harry said with a smile. “At least she is finally sleeping again.”
He grabbed the bedpost for support. “Good. Shit, I feel as weak as a baby.”
Harry laughed. “You are.”
Simon laughed and then realized how much that pained him. “Just wait until I am completely healed. We will visit Gentleman Jackson’s saloon again.”
“I have a feeling you fight far dirtier than anyone at Gentleman Jackson’s.”
“I’m quite certain I do.” He took two steps forward and grimaced. “Not sure I’ll make it there anytime soon.”
“As long as you can stand up and marry the girl.”
“I do not want her to know that I am aware of her condition,” Simon commanded. “She told me she loves me. I want that to be enough. The baby will come a little early, but it won’t be the first time.”
Simon would be eternally grateful to his brother for informing him about Emma likely being with child. Hopefully, she would never learn that Harry’s commanding him to get up and face fatherhood was what roused him out of unconsciousness. Her admission of love only increased his desire to gain his strength back.
“Walk already,” Harry ordered.
Simon took four steps and felt out of breath. “Dammit.”
“You can do it, Simon.”
He wasn’t certain about that. He’d never felt so weak in his life. “Did you talk to the Archbishop?”
“Yes, and he understood the need for me to represent you. He wasn’t pleased but agreed due to the circumstances.”
Simon winced as he took another step. “Will he keep quiet about the child?”
“Of course,” Harry said with a chuckle. “He wants that baby born on the right side of the blanket.”
Unlike he’d been. “Am I doing the right thing, Harry? After all, I shall always be a bastard. While my children will have the benefit of your connection and being legitimate, will Society accept them?”
“Yes, as long as you keep your funds.” Harry helped him back into bed. “Society cares about titles, money, and legitimacy...in that order. So make sure you increase your money, and your sons and daughters will take the world by storm.”
“With their mother’s kindness,” Simon added.
“And your fierceness.” Harry poured a glass of water and handed it to him. “I will make sure you have a good dinner tonight, so you get your strength back.”
“I’m joining you all for dinner tonight.”
Harry looked down at him with furrowed brows. “You’re not up to it yet, Simon. Give yourself another day or two.”
“I am joining you for dinner tonight.”
“Why the rush?”
Simon leveled his brother a smile. “Because I have an important question to ask Emma afterward.”
Harry nodded. “As you wish.”
“Did Louisa get what I needed?”
“She should return soon.”
Simon smiled. “Excellent.”
“Your solicitor brought over all the paperwork to transfer Hell to Ainsley and his group.”
“Did it include the provision regarding Riley?” Simon wasn’t about to sign the paperwork unless they agreed to sponsor Riley in Society.
“Yes. Riley grumbled about it but finally agreed. All signatures are complete, save yours. You are about to become an even wealthier bastard,” Harry commented with a grin.
“Good,” Simon replied. “Since I plan on having many children, we will need the money. And maybe a few more estates. One for each boy.”
Harry chuckled. “Do have a few girls. They will change your life.”
Simon smiled, knowing how Charlotte had changed his brother’s life for the better. “I want several little blonde girls with blue eyes like their mother.”
A light rap on the door interrupted them. “Come in,” Harry replied.
Louisa walked into the room with a smile. Holding up a piece of paper, she said, “I found it. I didn’t know she had a secret compartment in her desk.”
Once Louisa came close, Simon grabbed the paper. “Quill?”
Harry walked to the small desk in the room and shuffled through the drawers before finding a quill. He brought over the tray from tea and ink. “Do make sure it says, despicable scoundrel.”
“Come along, darling,” Louisa said as she tugged her husband’s arm. “Leave your brother in peace.”
“He is joining us for dinner,” Harry said, waiting for Simon to finish writing.
“Good,” Louisa replied.
Simon stared down at the list that had brought the impetuous woman into his path. With a smile, he wrote down the missing item number ten. As he finished, Louisa took the tray back to the desk and returned the ink and quill to their places.
“Where do you want this?” she asked, waving the paper to help the ink to dry.
“Third drawer on the right. I doubt Emma would get to that drawer if she happened to be in here looking for paper or a quill.”
“As you wish.” Once she closed the drawer, Louisa glanced over at her husband. “We should hurry if we are going to get ready for dinner.”
Simon suppressed a laugh as it was only three in the afternoon. Dinner was not on his sister-in-law’s mind.
“Is someone going to make sure I get a bath?” Simon asked.
“Yes, Simon,” Louisa said from the threshold. “A footman will be up in a few minutes with your bath and to help you get ready.”
“Don’t be late, Harry,” Simon added with a smirk.
Harry turned with a rakish grin. “No guarantees there, brother.”
By the time Simon walked finally downstairs to the salon, he was exhausted but happy. The bath had taken far more out of him than he’d expected. But it would all be worth it for Emma. A sense of peace had come over him.
Until he walked into the salon and noticed Emma missing, only Harry stood near the fireplace, sipping sherry. And with his brows furrowed and a frown on his face, Simon knew something was amiss.
“I will take some of that,” he said to his brother.
Harry walked to the corner table with the bottles of sherry and brandy. “I have bad news.”
“What is it?” A sense of foreboding swept over him, but he refused to give into it. He refused to let anything upset him tonight.
“Emma is requesting a tray in her room.” Harry handed a crystal snifter to him.
“Is she unwell?”
“Louisa is trying to determine that right now.”
Simon placed his glass on the table and then strode for the door. If she were ill, the least he could do was check on her.
“Simon, let Louisa handle this.”
He stopped and looked back at his brother. The grim set of Harry’s lips foretold an omen. “What do you know?”
“It’s her monthlies.”
Simon closed his eyes and released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The idea of a child had given him the strength to arrange a quick wedding to lessen the talk of an early baby. He briefly wondered if she was relieved or sad. “I need to see her, Harry.”
“Wait until Louisa returns.”
Simon walked to his glass of sherry and drained his glass. “Brandy.”
“Go easy. You’ve been ill.” Harry still poured him a snifter.
“I was shot, not ill. And I’m perfectly recovered now.” Simon took the glass and sipped it slowly when all he wanted to do was gulp it down. He closed his eyes. Soon she would be with child. His child.
#
EMMA CURLED INTO HER pillow as she tried to keep the tears from falling. While she always had difficult courses, this month seemed particularly painful. After being a week late, she’d been certain there could only be one reason for the delay. Clutching her belly, she finally let the tears flow. She prayed she wasn’t like Tessa, who took two years to get with child.
“Emma?” Louisa whispered as she opened the door and peeked inside.
“Come in, Louisa.” She wiped away her tears as her sister entered the room.
“Are you all right?”
Emma could only shake her head as the tears fell again. “Oh, Louisa, I thought I must be with child. I was happy about the idea. I wanted a child. His child. Do you think I miscarried?”
Louisa sat down on the edge of the bed and clasped Emma’s hand. “You will have children, Emma. But it is doubtful that you were carrying. The stress of the shooting most likely delayed your courses.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Emma said with a long sigh.
“Can I get you anything?”
Emma shook her head. The only thing she wanted was to feel the warmth of Simon’s arms around her, comforting her.
“Do you want to join us for dinner tonight?”
“No,” Emma replied. “I truly feel awful and can’t stand the idea of facing anyone.”
“As you wish.” Louisa started to stand up.
“How is he?” Emma had locked herself up in the bedchamber since noon. She’d only seen him briefly after breakfast.
“Much improved.” Louisa smiled down at her. “He was up and walking in his room today. Do you want to know a secret?”
Emma sat up against pillows and smiled. “Of course, I do.”
“Simon is selling Hell.”
“What?” The smile on her face fell. Emma stared at her sister in disbelief. She must have misheard her sister because Simon would never sell his business.
“It’s true.” Louisa’s smile broadened. “And it’s all for you.”
Emma seemed unable to move, much less respond. He’d spent the past eight years building it to what it had become...one of the best gaming hells in London. “Why?”
“For you, of course.”
Why would he sell Hell for her? “That doesn’t make any sense, Louisa. You must be mistaken.”
Louisa sat back. “I most certainly am not mistaken. He is selling it to Ainsley, Stanton, Blakely, and Riley.”
“Why?”
“To marry you, silly girl.”
“Why?” She couldn’t stop asking that question. It made no sense that he would make such a sacrifice for her.
“Because he loves you and doesn’t want you living in a gaming hell,” Louisa replied with a frown.
She couldn’t let him do this. He’d built Hell from almost nothing. What would he do if he sold? He obviously couldn’t afford to live somewhere else, or he wouldn’t be living at the place. There had to be a way to stop him from selling what he loved.
Clearly, there was.
If he was only selling Hell to marry her, she had to refuse him. Then he would continue to operate his business and be happy. And she would be miserable.
But she would do the right thing. She wouldn’t be selfish. The best thing for them both would be never to see each other again and get on with their lives. Simon would keep Hell, and she would die an old spinster. Of course, a part of her remained hopeful that after she told him, he would agree to keep Hell...and her.
“Are you all right?” Louisa asked. “You’ve gone very quiet.”
Emma forced a smile and shrugged. “I’ll be fine in a few days. You should go to dinner. I’ll be fine up here.”
“As you wish.”
Emma waited until her sister closed the door behind her before allowing the tears to fall. She would never be well. She would never be all right. Life without Simon would be miserable.
Inhaling deeply, she brushed aside her tears. She could do this...for him. After almost losing him, she had to let him go to save him.
#
THE NEXT MORNING BEFORE anyone else awoke, Emma packed her few things and wrote a note to Louisa. She placed her sister’s letter next to the long one she’d written Simon last night. A part of her felt horrible for writing to him when she should have spoken to him in person. But she also knew that he would attempt to convince her that he would be fine without Hell.
She knew he would need something to do. He wasn’t the sort of man to sit idle. And he couldn’t afford to either. While the late duke had settled some money on Simon, Emma knew it couldn’t be that much. She assumed he’d bought those beautiful horses and carriage with the money.
With a sigh, she picked up her valise and quietly walked downstairs.
“Good morning, Miss Drake,” a footman said as she reached the bottom step.
“Good morning, Raymond. Could you please hail a hackney for me? I need to return to my mother’s home.”
“I’ll have the coach brought around, miss. Her Grace would be horrified if I let you go in a hackney.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s tea and coffee in the morning room while you wait,” Raymond said with a smile.
“Thank you. I will wait there.”
Emma walked to the bright morning room and poured herself a cup of strong coffee. Sitting at the table, she sipped her coffee. Was she doing the right thing? Yes. She had to keep telling herself that no matter how much her heart felt like it was shattering.
After spending most of the night tossing and turning, the coffee helped her focus her thoughts. Her heart might be breaking, but doing what was right for him must be her priority. He had nothing but Hell.
So why did she feel so guilty for running off without telling even her sister?
She took another sip of the strong drink. She knew her sister, Harry, and especially Simon, would only try to talk her out of her decision.
Hearing footsteps, her heart sank, assuming she’d been caught trying to sneak off. She glanced up to see the footman at the threshold.
“Yes, Raymond?”
“The coach is coming around front now.”
“Thank you.”
She rose from her seat and walked to the hall. Raymond opened the door as the coach rolled to a stop.
“Going somewhere?” a deep angry voice asked from the top of the stairs.
Her knees almost gave out at the sound of his voice. She wanted to run to him, put her arms around him, and beg him to stop her from running.
“Yes.” Emma walked out of the house with her head held high and tears streaming down her cheeks.