Well, that explained a great deal. The man was too tired to be working on his feet all day but too proud to say so. She would somehow have to mention this to Simon. “I did not know,” she replied. “I myself love a good midmorning, midday, and late-day respite,” she fibbed to make him feel less uncomfortable. Truthfully, she was not one to close her eyes until the end of the night. “I’ll see myself to the study. I simply need to retrieve my muff.”
“If you insist,” he replied, giving her an encouraging look.
“Oh, I do,” she assured him with a smile. Once he turned and trudged away, she made her way toward the study, fully expecting to encounter one of Simon’s sisters, but she got all the way to the closed study door without seeing anyone. She raised her hand to knock, but as did, she heard Rutledge growl, “So you’re no longer committed to truly offering me aid but you’re still committed to your plan for revenge!”
The dreadful sentence lodged in her brain and froze her fist, hovering at the door. Her body tensed as she waited with bated breath for Simon’s response.
A long paused ensued and then Simon said, “I am still fully committed to both endeavors. I will have my revenge through Miss Adair, and—”
“What are ye doing, Miss Adair?”
Anne startled so badly at the voice behind her that she squeaked.Please, oh please,she thought as she turned,let it be the youngest sister, Elizabeth, and not Caitlin. She blew out a relieved breath as she stared at Elizabeth. This sister seemed much less likely to drag her into Simon’s office and announce she’d been eavesdropping. Anne forced what felt like a smile so brittle it could crack her cheeks. Her anger practically sizzled inside her.
“I was just leaving,” she lied in hushed tones. She refused to allow herself to feel guilty for deceiving Elizabeth. Her blackguard brother was the one who should feel guilty. Oh, how she wished she could have heard the rest of what he’d been about to say, but the best thing to do now was take the information she did have and depart as quickly as possible. Simon would pay. She would make sure of it.
“I must take my leave,” she whispered.
Elizabeth frowned at her. “Are ye feeling unwell?”
She nodded. It wasn’t a lie. She felt positively like she could cast up her accounts. Simon had not deceived her about wanting to seduce her, and it had naught to do with her dowry as she had feared, nor did it have anything to do with a desire for her, as she had foolishly allowed herself to absurdly hope it might. Shame she had vowed to never feel again settled like a heavy, cumbersome blanket upon her shoulders. She felt like drooping, but she held herself rigid. “It’s my throat,” she whispered. The fact that tears clogged her throat actually helped to make her sound as if she were unwell.
“Oh dear!” Elizabeth said in a voice that Anne feared was loud enough that Simon might hear and come out of the study.
“I better be—”
The study door swung open, and Simon appeared in the threshold in all his devilishly handsome glory. His thick, rumpled hair made him seem rather innocently charming. What utter rubbish! A crease appeared in his brow, and he glanced in concern and what looked like guilt from his sister to Anne. “Did ye forget something, Miss Adair?” he asked, looking behind his shoulder before facing her once more.
She simply had to get out of this house before she told him what she thought of him. Her instincts told her to keep what she’d learned to herself. She shook her head. “I’m just departing after speaking with your sister.”
Elizabeth nodded, thankfully unaware Anne had already departed and returned. “Anne does not feel well.”
A look that seemed like genuine caring settled on Simon’s face. The man was a master deceiver. Anne wanted to snort at the falseness, but she bit the inside of her cheek instead. “Miss Adair, I insist ye take my carriage home. I’m certain that ye are feeling unwell because of yer walk through the cold to my home.”
“I appreciate your kindness,” she said through stiff lips and turned to leave. She got no more than four steps before Simon was at her side, his hand coming to her elbow.
“Allow me to escort ye,” he said, his very masculine presence both irritating and overwhelming.
“That won’t be necessary,” she bit out. She gave a firm tug on her elbow, to which Simon responded by gripping it a bit tighter. He leaned in close to her as she picked up her pace so that she was nearly walking at a skipping stride to leave his home.
“Is something vexing ye, Anne?” he whispered.
“Yes,” she snapped. “My throat is aching something terribly, and now I’m horribly cold,” she added, though that was the truth. When one discovered they had once more been on the precipice of being made a fool by a rogue, it did make one feel bitterly frigid.
They passed through the door Perceval had opened and continued down the steps. Anne tugged her elbow once more, and this time, Simon released it. But the minute they came to the carriage steps, he took her hand in his large, very warm one. Oh, how she wished she had her fur muff! Though perhaps it was best it was still in Simon’s office as she could well imagine hitting him with it, the insufferable rake. “What are you doing?” she growled.
“Helping ye into the carriage.” He offered a devastating smile.
“I have been managing to climb into carriages since I was a child,” she said, tugged her hand out of his, and settled herself into the carriage.
Simon was still grinning, looking vexingly handsome. “I’ll not take offense at yer surly behavior, as I’m rather surly myself when taken ill. It’s lucky for ye, I know just the things to aid a sore throat. My ma made a special concoction that would always make my throat feel wonderful when I was ailing. I’ll fetch it for ye now.”
“Oh, no,” Anne protested, but Simon was already backing out of the carriage. She watched through the window as he disappeared inside his home. His ability to seem genuinely concerned amazed her, but then she thought on it for a moment. Likely, the scoundrel wanted her to stay well so that he could quickly seduce her for revenge, but against whom and for what? The only person who came to mind was Mary, but how would seducing Anne be revenge against Mary? And whyever would Simon want revenge against a woman who had wished to marry him? Anne needed answers, but Simon was not the person to seek them from.
Who else was she connected to that Simon might want revenge against? The only person she could even think of was her grandfather. Had he been involved in persuading Simon’s grandfather to send Simon away those many years ago? But even if he had, Simon had no one to blame but himself. If he’d never led Mary to believe he loved her and taken the innocence she’d naively given him, there would not have been a reason to wish him gone. Anne ground her teeth, hardly believing she’d almost started to soften toward the man.
When she saw Simon coming toward her once more, she forced a smile to her lips. He stepped into the carriage with a carafe, a handkerchief, a blanket, and a foot warmer. If she’d not known about the revenge plan, she would have honestly thought him considerate.
“You’ve thought of everything to see to my comfort,” she said sweetly. “Though I should expect no less from a dangerous rogue such as you.” If she did not need him to offer Rutledge a position, she might have abandoned her plan to make him honorable. It was likely a lost cause, anyway.
