Games (Timeless Series) (25 page)

BOOK: Games (Timeless Series)
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When his voice died, he took the last swallow of his drink
. He slammed the empty cup down on the desk and met Simon’s gaze without flinching. “So now you know my dirty little secret. What’s more, you know a few of hers. Not much more I can tell you.”

Simon
tried to assimilate all the information Miller had relayed. He had no trouble believing him, wasn’t fazed to learn Caroline was nastier than he’d thought. His opinion leaned in that direction anyway. What amazed him was how well she concealed it all.

Finally he stood
. “Well, Frank, I think our little discussion has helped me in a big way. I don’t judge and I appreciate your candor. In fact, now that I know what motivates her, I think it may help make my dealings with the woman a little easier. Don’t worry. This conversation never took place. As far as she’ll know, I simply discussed the workers you let go.”

Miller nodded as Simon reached into his topcoat and pulled out the ledgers Caroline had given him
. “Here are your records.” He handed them to Miller and turned to go. “I can see myself out. Thanks for your help.”

He headed out of the stables,
toward his horse. When he got about halfway, he noticed Caroline coming out of her house and down the steps. He stopped next to his horse and waited.

“Simon, I was told you were here.”

“And I was told you were out. What a nice surprise to find you’ve returned so quickly,” Simon replied, bestowing his warmest, most disarming smile.

Caroline readily returned the smile
. “I take it you’ve made up your mind about whether or not you’re willing to play?”

Simon chuckled
. “Oh, honey, my mind was made up the moment I met you. Trouble is, I’m a bit pressed for time right now. I hate rushing, especially when something’s caught my attention. Our game will have to wait.”

“I don’t mind waiting,” the woman all but purred
. “Anticipation can heighten the pleasure. Just don’t keep me waiting too long, darling. My attention tends to wander.”

Simon reached out and grabbed her, roughly pulling her
toward him. His mouth lowered. He let his lips graze, outlining hers with his tongue. “This is to hold your attention for a bit longer,” he murmured, before finishing the kiss. When he lifted his head, he waited until she opened her eyes, and then let her go. “I’ll be in touch, Caroline.” He tipped his hat, and turned to mount his horse.

“I can hardly wait,” she replied breathlessly
.

Allowing one swift glance in her direction, he couldn’t miss the Cheshire cat-like smile spreading across her face
. As he rode toward the main road at a good clip, he shuddered, unable to dislodge the distasteful image from his brain.

Chapter 1
6

Simon headed toward Shelbyville at a good clip
, needing to put some distance between himself and Hillier Meadows. In town he rode down the main street, taking in his surroundings as he went. Though small, the town seemed prosperous. Buildings were fairly new or well maintained.

At
the telegraph office, he stopped and dismounted.

His first errand was to send a telegram to his partner, informing him of all he’d learned
. Simon had the feeling he was going to need backup earlier than they’d planned to meet, and he wanted him on the next train.

When he stepped out of the telegraph office, he searched the storefronts along Main Street until the one he was looking for caught his eye
. Leaving his horse tethered, he headed in a direct line for the shop. A little bell over the door tinkled as he ambled inside and glanced around.

A stunning woman with a killer smile came
out of the back room. “May I help you?”

This had to be
Giselle’s sister. While her French accent was a little more pronounced, she had similar eyes and features. “I hope so. I’m looking for Marcus Franklin,” Simon said, offering one of his most disarming grins.

Her
smile faded somewhat and her manner became businesslike. “Who wants to know?”

Simon chuckled
. “She wasn’t wrong when she said her father taught them well.”

Uncertainty clouded her expression and her gaze narrowed, searching his face thoroughly
. “
Qu’est-ce que c’est
? What are you talking about,
monsieur
?”

“It’s Simon
. Simon Harrington.”

The lady’s sharp gaze
snapped to his and her smile broadened. “So you are the infamous Simon Harrington. Imagine meeting you here in Shelbyville.” A pleased laugh rushed out when she offered her hand. “Welcome, Simon. I’m Marguerite Dubois.”


Enchanté
, Madame Dubois,” he said. The amusement he caught dancing in her eyes confused him. He’d never met her before, yet she acted as though she held a secret. Shaking the thought, he released her hand. “I’m looking for your father. I was told he’s retired and living here now.”


You are sweet to seek him out.”

He cleared his throat, unsure of what to do next
. “Yes…um…well,” he stammered, wondering why the need to turn and run suddenly hit him. “I was in the area and thought I’d look him up. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen him. He may not remember me, although Giselle assures me he does.”

Marguerite
’s eyes grew the size of saucers. She gawked at him a complete thirty seconds before asking, “You’ve seen my sister?”

Simon smiled
. Her familiar mannerisms reminded him of Giselle. “Yes, I’ve seen her. I’m a guest at Twin Oaks for the time being.”

“How lovely
.” Marguerite’s delight was back in force. “Are you having a nice visit?”

When he glanced into her laughing eyes,
a sense of foreboding overwhelmed him. He held her gaze, trying to understand what it was about her that caused the hairs on his neck to rise. “Why do I get this feeling you know something I don’t?”

“Oh
, bah!” Marguerite waved off his concerns with the flick of her wrist. “What could I know? You are surely imagining things, Simon. Let me lock up. Then we will find my parents. I am sure they are dying to see you again.”

He had no more time to dwell on her actions
as she led him toward a well-maintained large house at the edge of town…the affluent edge.

When they walked through the door,
Marguerite yelled, “Mama! Papa! Come quick. Look who is here for a visit.”

Marcus
sprinted down the stairs and Sophie rushed from the back of the house, both arriving in the foyer at the same time.

“Well, well, well.”
Marcus stopped dead in his tracks. He put out his hand and clapped Simon on the back. “If it isn’t Simon Harrington.”

“Hello, Marcus
.” Simon said, shaking his hand. “I was in the area and thought I’d stop by.”

“Come in, come in
.” His nod indicated a larger room behind French doors. “Let’s go in the parlor where we’ll be more comfortable. Sophie, you remember Simon?”

Sophie smiled warmly, offering her hand
. “It is always a pleasure, Simon.”

“The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure,”
Simon said, taking her hand and kissing it. “Now I see where both Marguerite and Giselle get their good looks.”

She blushed
. “You are too kind, sir. You go ahead and I will have Lizette put together some refreshments.”

He followed
Marcus, who opened the French doors leading into the airy space.

“Would you care for something stronger than coffee,
tea, or chocolate,” he asked.

“No thanks, I’m working right now
.” Simon sat in the plush chair he indicated. “I’ll wait for coffee.”

Marcus poured himself a drink
, then joined Simon. “So, you just happen to be in the area? Shelbyville is a bit out of the way for you, isn’t it? The capital is at least a day’s train ride.”

Simon grinned
. “True, but I’m back in Louisville for the time being.”

“Louisville? What brings you there?”

“A case.” He shrugged. “Actually, my base is Twin Oaks for the next few days. I couldn’t be this close to you and not stop by to at least say hello.”


You’re staying at Twin Oaks?” Marcus’s eyebrows shot up. “I take it you’ve seen Giselle, then.”

Simon met his questioning eyes briefly, stilling a
nother strong urge to run, feeling a noose settle around his neck. He shook off the thought and grinned. “We’ve met.”

Marcus laughed
. “That’s it? You’ve met? Are you sure we’re discussing the same Giselle Franklin?”

“What can I say?”
He cleared his throat. “She
is
a bit of a handful, but I think we understand each other now.”

Marcus leaned back in his chair and
eyed him curiously. Simon tried not to squirm under the scrutiny and schooled his thoughts to show nothing of the turmoil going on in his mind. He was beginning to think he’d made a mistake by stopping by.

Sophie walked into the room carrying a tray. “Can you stay for dinner?”

Saved by the interruption, Simon turned to her. “Thank you, Sophie. I’d love nothing better, but I’m working on a case that’s taking all of my time. In fact, I can’t stay too long right now.”

“I wish you had more time
.” Sophie’s disappointment was evident. “The invitation remains open. You are always welcome.”

For the next half hour
, Simon drank a cup of coffee and got caught up on Marcus and Sophie Franklin’s life in Shelbyville.

Just before he was ready to leave, he asked Marcus, “Don’t you miss it?”

Marcus took a drink and contemplated the question. “At times. What I’ve learned is the dangerous challenges I used to face have been replaced with other more gratifying challenges. Marriage and family have certainly given me that. I can assure you, life with Giselle and Marguerite is much more harrowing than anything I took on as a marshal.” He sighed. “Those two have given me cause to have a head full of gray hair by now.”

Simon stood
. “Then it’s a good thing I’m staying off that course.”

Marcus met his gaze and grinned
. “Oh, you think so?”

With much conviction Simon nodded
. “Of course. I have no intention of marrying and having a family. I like my life just the way it is.”

Marcus threw back his head and laughed
.

“So glad I amuse you.”

“No, it’s not that. I was just remembering that I said exactly the same thing at one time. Be careful, Simon,” he warned. “Love happens when you least expect it.”

This time Simon chuckled
. “So I’ve been told. Well, I still have another stop before I head back to the farm. It’s been a pleasure.”

~~

Marcus and Sophie Franklin escorted him to the front door.

When
Simon mounted his horse and rode away, Marcus turned to Sophie. “It’s interesting what he didn’t say.”

Sophie’s brow
furrowed. “What are you talking about? I did not notice anything.”

He shook his head
. “My intuition tells me there’s something going on and I aim to find out what it is.” He caught his wife’s questioning stare. “It’s time to take the Thorpes up on their invitation for us to visit Giselle at Twin Oaks Farm.”

Marguerite had come up behind them during their exchange
. “I did not realize how attractive he is. I would bet my shop he is not one to fall so easily under Giselle’s spell.”

Marcus peered
in the direction Simon rode and said, “No, he’s not. But he’s not immune to her either. That much I do know.”

~~

Giselle spent the rest of the day working with Gus. During that time she had no other opportunities to ask any more questions. It did not matter as she felt confident she had enough information to impress Simon with her sleuthing skills.

She took her time in deciding what to wear
for dinner, thinking of him. When she caught herself doing so, she yanked the dress she’d been eyeing out of the armoire and quickly donned it. How annoying to realize she was making a special effort to look her best for him. She had to quit acting the lovesick fool. Simon Harrington had made it perfectly clear he wasn’t interested in more than a brief affair. As much as it hurt to admit she would love more, she had to accept that he wasn’t the man for her.

While sitting at her cheval glass staring
at her reflection, her mind wandered to Bradford. Marriage to him wouldn’t be so bad—especially if he made her feel those things she’d felt last night. She spent a little more time on her hair, telling herself it wasn’t for Simon; she simply liked looking nice. Just because he’d be there to see her, wasn’t enough to stop her from doing so.

When ready, she glided down the stairs and into the dining room
. Minnie and Maizie were already seated at the table. She noted Simon’s absence with a tug of disappointment. Not wanting to dwell on the feeling, she sat down and turned to the two women, engaging them in conversation.

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