The Duke And I

8 - Part 1

It has reached This Author's ears that the entire Bridgerton family (plus one duke!) embarked upon

a journey to Greenwich on Saturday .

It has also reached This Author's ears that the aforementioned duke, along with a certain member

of the Bridgerton family, returned to London very wet indeed .

Lady Whistledown's Society Papers, 3 May 1813

If you apologize to me one more time," Simon said, leaning his head back against his hands, "I

may have to kill you."

Daphne shot him an irritated look from her position in her deck chair on the small yacht her

mother had commissioned to take the entire family—and the duke, of course—to Greenwich.

"Pardon me," she said, "if I am polite enough to apologize for my mother's quite obvious

manipulations. I thought that the purpose of our little charade was to shield you from the tender

mercies of matchmaking mothers."

Simon waved off her comment, as he settled deeper into his own chair. "It would only be a

problem if I were not enjoying myself."

Daphne's chin lurched backward slightly in surprise.

"Oh," she said (stupidly, in her opinion). "That's nice."

He laughed. "I am inordinately fond of boat travel, even if it is just down to Greenwich, and

besides, after spending so much time at sea, I rather fancy a visit to the Royal Observatory to see

the Greenwich Meridian." He c****d his head in her direction. "Do you know much about

navigation and longitude?"

She shook her head. "Very little, I'm afraid. I must confess I'm not even certain what this

meridian here at Greenwich is. "

"It's the point from which all longitude is measured. It used to be that sailors and navigators

measured longitudinal distance from their point of departure, but in the last century, the

astronomer royal decided to make Greenwich the starting point."

Daphne raised her brows. "That seems rather self-important of us, don't you think, positioning

ourselves at the center of the world?"

"Actually, it's quite convenient to have a universal reference point when one is attempting to

navigate the high seas."

She still looked doubtful. "So everyone simply agreed on Greenwich? I find it difficult to

believe that the French wouldn't have insisted upon Paris, and the Pope, I'm sure, would have

preferred Rome..."

"Well, it wasn't an agreement, precisely," he allowed with a laugh. "There was no official treaty,

if that is what you mean. But the Royal Observatory publishes an excellent set of charts and

tables each year—it's called the Nautical Almanac. And a sailor would have to be insane to

attempt to navigate the ocean without one on board. And since the Nautical Almanac measures

longitude with Greenwich as zero ... well, everyone else has adopted it as well."

"You seem to know quite a bit about this."

He shrugged. "If you spend enough time on a ship, you learn."

"Well, I'm afraid it wasn't the sort of thing one learned in the Bridgerton nursery." She cocked

her head to the side in a somewhat self-deprecating manner. "Most of my learning was restricted

to what my governess knew."

"Pity," he murmured. Then he asked, "Only most?"

"If there was something that interested me, I could usually find several books to read on the

topic in our library."

"I would wager then, that your interests did not lie in abstract mathematics."

Daphne laughed. "Like you, you mean? Hardly, I'm afraid. My mother always said that it was a

wonder I could add high enough to put shoes on my feet."

Simon winced.

"I know, I know," she said, still smiling. "You sorts who excel at arithmetic simply don't

understand how we lesser mortals can look at a page of numbers and not know the answer—or at

least how to get to the answer— instantly. Colin is the same way."

He smiled, because she was exactly right. "What, then, were your favorite subjects?"

"Hmm? Oh, history and literature. Which was fortunate, since we had no end of books on those

topics."

He took another sip of his lemonade. "I've never had any great passion for history."

"Really? Why not, do you think?"

Simon pondered that for a moment, wondering if perhaps his lack of enthusiasm for history was

due to his distaste for his dukedom and all the tradition that wrapped around it. His father had

been so passionate about the title...But of course all he said was, "Don't know, really. Just didn't

like it, I suppose."

They fell into a few moments of companionable silence, the gentle river wind ruffling their hair.

Then Daphne smiled, and said, "Well, I won't apologize again, since I'm too fond of my life to

sacrifice it needlessly at your hands, but I am glad that you're not miserable after my mother

browbeat you into accompanying us."

The look he gave her was vaguely sardonic. "If I hadn't wanted to join you, there is nothing your

mother could have said that would have secured my presence."

She snorted. "And this from a man who is feigning a courtship to me, of all people, all because

he's too polite to refuse invitations from his friends' new wives."

A rather irritable scowl immediately darkened his features. "What do you mean, you of all

people?"

"Well, I..." She blinked in surprise. She had no idea what she meant. "I don't know," she finally

said.

"Well, stop saying it," he grumbled, then settled back into his chair.

Daphne's eyes inexplicably focused on a wet spot on the railing as she fought to keep an absurd

smile off her face. Simon was so sweet when he was grumpy.

"What are you looking at?" he asked.

Her lips twitched. "Nothing."

"Then what are you smiling about?"

That she most certainly was not going to reveal. "I'm not smiling."

"If you're not smiling," he muttered, "then you're either about to suffer a seizure or sneeze."

"Neither," she said in a breezy voice. "Just enjoying the excellent weather."

Simon was leaning his head against the back of the chair, so he just rolled it to the side so he

could look at her. "And the company's not that bad," he teased.

Daphne shot a pointed look at Anthony, who was leaning against the rail on the opposite side of

the deck, glowering at them both. "All of the company?" she asked.

"If you mean your belligerent brother," Simon replied, "I'm actually finding his distress most

amusing."

Daphne fought a smile and didn't win. "That's not very kind-hearted of you."

"I never said I was kind. And look—" Simon tipped his head ever so slightly in Anthony's

direction. Anthony's scowl had, unbelievably, turned even blacker. "He knows we're talking

about him. It's killing him."

"I thought you were friends."

"We are friends. This is what friends do to one another."

"Men are mad."

"Generally speaking," he agreed.

She rolled her eyes. "I thought the primary rule of friendship was that one was not supposed to

dally with one's friend's sister."

"Ah, but I'm not dallying. I'm merely pretending to dally."

Daphne nodded thoughtfully and glanced at Anthony. "And it's still killing him—even though

he knows the truth of the matter."

"I know." Simon grinned. "Isn't it brilliant?"

Just then Violet came sailing across the deck. "Children!" she called out. "Children! Oh, pardon

me, your grace," she added when she spied him. "It's certainly not fair for me to lump you with

my children."

Simon just smiled and waved off her apology.

"The captain tells me we're nearly there," Violet explained. "We should gather up our things."

Simon rose to his feet and extended a helpful hand to Daphne, who took it gratefully, gobbling

as she stood.

"I haven't my sea legs yet," she laughed, clutching his arm to steady herself.

"And here we're merely on the river," he murmured.

"Beast. You're not supposed to point out my lack of grace and balance."

As she spoke, she turned her face toward his, and in that instant, with the wind catching her hair

and painting her cheeks pink, she looked so enchantingly lovely that Simon nearly forgot to

breathe.

Her lush mouth was caught somewhere between a laugh and a smile, and the sun glinted almost

red on her hair. Here on the water, away from stuffy ballrooms, with the fresh air swirling about

them, she looked natural and beautiful and just being in her presence made Simon want to grin

like an i***t.

If they hadn't been about to pull into dock, with her entire family running around them, he

would have kissed her. He knew he couldn't dally with her, and he knew he would never marry

her, and still he found himself leaning toward her. He didn't even realize what he was doing until

he suddenly felt off-balance and lurched back upright.

Anthony, unfortunately, caught the entire episode, and he rather brusquely insinuated himself

between Simon and Daphne, grasping her arm with far more strength than grace. "As your eldest

brother," he growled, "I believe it is my honor to escort you ashore."

Simon just bowed and let Anthony have his way, too shaken and angered by his momentary loss

of control to argue.

The boat settled next to the dock, and a gangplank was put into place. Simon watched as the

entire Bridgerton family disembarked, then he brought up the rear, following them onto the

grassy banks of the Thames.

At the top of the hill stood the Royal Observatory, a stately old building of rich red brick. Its

towers were topped with gray domes, and Simon had the sense that he was, as Daphne had put it,

at the very center of the world. Everything, he realized, was measured from this point.

After having crossed a good portion of the globe, the thought was rather humbling.

"Do we have everyone?" the viscountess called out. "Hold still, everyone, so I may be sure we

are all present and accounted for." She started counting heads, finally ending on herself with a

triumphant, 'Ten! Good, we're all here."

"Just be glad she doesn't make us line up by age any longer."

Simon looked to the left to see Colin grinning at him.

"As a method of keeping order, age worked when it still corresponded with height. But then

Benedict gained an inch on Anthony, and then Gregory outgrew Francesca—" Colin shrugged.

"Mother simply gave up."

Simon scanned the crowd and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm just trying to figure out where

I'd fit in."

"Somewhere near Anthony, if I had to hazard a guess," Colin replied.

"God forbid," Simon muttered.

Colin glanced at him with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

"Anthony!" Violet called out. "Where's Anthony?"

Anthony indicated his location with a rather ill-tempered grunt.

'Oh, there you are, Anthony. Come and escort me in."

Anthony reluctantly let go of Daphne's arm and walked to his mother's side.

"She's shameless, isn't she?" Colin whispered.

Simon thought it best not to comment.

"Well, don't disappoint her," Colin said. "After all her machinations, the least you can do is go

and take Daphne's arm."

Simon turned to Colin with a quirked eyebrow. "You might be just as bad as your mother."

Colin just laughed. "Yes, except that at least I don't pretend to be subtle."

Daphne chose that moment to walk over. "I find myself without an escort," she said.

"Imagine that," Colin returned. "Now, if the two of you will excuse me, I'm off to find Hyacinth.

If I'm forced to escort Eloise, I may have to swim back to London. She's been a wretch ever since

she attained the age of fourteen."

Simon blinked in confusion. "Didn't you just return from the Continent last week?"

Colin nodded. "Yes, but Eloise's fourteenth birthday was a year and a half ago."

Daphne swatted him on the elbow. "If you're lucky, I won't tell her you said that."

Colin just rolled his eyes and disappeared into the small crowd, bellowing Hyacinth's name.

Daphne laid her hand in the crook of Simon's elbow as he offered her his arm, then asked, "Have

we scared you off yet?"

"I beg your pardon?"

She offered him a rueful smile. "There is nothing quite as exhausting as a Bridgerton family

outing."

"Oh, that." Simon stepped quickly to the right to avoid Gregory, who was racing after Hyacinth,

yelling something about mud and revenge. "It's, ah, a new experience."

"Very politely put, your grace," Daphne said admiringly. "I'm impressed."

"Yes, well—" He jumped back as Hyacinth barreled by, squealing at such a pitch that Simon

was certain that dogs would start howling from there to London. "I have no siblings, after all."

Daphne let out a dreamy sigh. "No siblings," she mused. "Right now it sounds like heaven." The

faraway look remained in her eyes for a few more seconds, then she straightened and shook off

her reverie. "Be that as it may, however—" Her hand shot out just as Gregory ran past, catching

the boy firmly by the upper arm. "Gregory Bridgerton," she scolded, "you should know better

than to run thus through a crowd. You're liable to knock someone over."

"How did you do that?" Simon asked.

"What, catch him?"

"Yes."

She shrugged. "I have years of practice."

"Daphne!" Gregory whined. His arm, after all, was still attached to her hand.

She let go. "Now, slow down."

He took two exaggerated steps then broke into a trot.

"No scolding for Hyacinth?" Simon asked.

Daphne motioned over her shoulder. "It appears my mother has Hyacinth in hand."

Simon saw that Violet was shaking her finger quite vehemently at Hyacinth. He turned back to

Daphne. "What were you about to say before Gregory appeared on the scene?"

She blinked. "I have no idea."

"I believe you were about to go into raptures at the thought of having no siblings."

"Oh, of course." She let out a little laugh as they followed the rest of the Bridgertons up the hill

toward the observatory. "Actually, believe it or not, I was going to say that while the concept of

eternal solitude is, at times, tempting, I think I would be quite lonely without family." Simon said

nothing."I cannot imagine having only one child myself," she added.

"Sometimes," Simon said in a dry voice, "one has little choice in the matter."

Daphne's cheeks turned an immediate red. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she stammered, her feet

absolutely refusing to take a step. "I'd forgotten. Your mother..."

Simon paused beside her. "I didn't know her," he said with a shrug. "I didn't mourn her."

But his blue eyes were strangely hollow and shuttered, and Daphne somehow knew that his

words were false.

And at the same time, she knew that he believed them one hundred percent.

And she wondered—what could have happened to this man to make him lie to himself for so

many years?

She studied his face, her head tilting slightly as she took in his features. The wind had brought

color to his cheeks and ruffled his dark hair. He looked rather uncomfortable under her scrutiny,

and finally he just grunted, and said, "We're falling behind."

Daphne looked up the hill. Her family was a good distance ahead of them. "Yes, of course," she

said, straightening her shoulders. "We should get going."

But as she trudged up the hill, she wasn't thinking of her family, or of the observatory, or even

of longitude. Instead, she was wondering why she had the most bizarre urge to throw her arms

around the duke and never let go.