The Duke and I (17 page)

 Thankfully, Violet had not noticed the flying pea, even though it sailed right over her head in a perfect arc.

 But Daphne, who was sitting directly across from him, most certainly had, because her napkin flew up to cover her mouth with remarkable alacrity. Judging from the way her eyes were crinkling at the corners, she was definitely laughing under the square of linen.

 Simon spoke little throughout the meal. Truth be told, it was far easier to listen to the Bridgertons than actually to try to converse with them, especially considering the number of malevolent stares he was receiving from Anthony and Benedict.

 But Simon had been seated clear at the opposite end of the table from the two eldest Bridgertons (no accident on Violet's part, he was sure) so it was relatively simple to ignore them and instead enjoy Daphne's interactions with the rest of her family. Every now and then one of them would ask him a direct question, and he would answer, and then he would return to his demeanor of quiet observation.

 Finally, Hyacinth, who was seated to Daphne's right, looked him straight in the eye, and said, "You don't talk much, do you?"

 Violet choked on her wine.

 'The duke," Daphne said to Hyacinth, "is being far more polite than we are, constantly jumping into the conversation and interrupting one another as if we're afraid we might not be heard."

 "I'm not afraid I might not be heard," Gregory said.

 "I'm not afraid of that, either," Violet commented dryly. "Gregory, eat your peas."

 "But Hyacinth—"

 "Lady Bridgerton," Simon said loudly, "may I trouble you for another helping of those delicious peas?"

 "Why certainly." Violet shot an arch look at Gregory. "Notice how the duke is eating his peas."

 Gregory ate his peas.

 Simon smiled to himself as he spooned another portion of peas onto his plate, thankful that Lady Bridgerton had not decided to serve dinner
a la russe.
It would have been difficult to stave off Gregory's certain accusation of Hyacinth as a pea-tosser if he'd had to summon a footman to serve him.

 Simon busied himself with his peas, since he really had no choice but to finish off every last one. He stole a glance at Daphne, however, who was wearing a secret little smile. Her eyes were brimming with infectious good humor, and Simon soon felt the corners of his mouth turning up as well.

 "Anthony, why are you scowling?" asked one of the other Bridgerton girls—Simon thought it might be Francesca, but it was hard to say. The two middle ones looked amazingly alike, right down to their blue eyes, so like their mother's.

 "I'm not scowling," Anthony snapped, but Simon, having been on the receiving end of those scowls for the better part of an hour, rather thought he was lying.

 "You are, too," either Francesca or Eloise said.

 Anthony's tone of reply was condescending in the extreme. "If you think I am going to say 'am not,' you are sadly mistaken."

 Daphne laughed into her napkin again.

 Simon decided life was more amusing than it had been in ages.

 "Do you know," Violet suddenly announced, "that I think this might be one of the most pleasant eveningsof the year. Even"—she sent a knowing glance down the table at Hyacinth—"if my youngest is tossing peas down the table."

 Simon looked up just as Hyacinth cried out, "How did you know?"

 Violet shook her head as she rolled her eyes. "My dear children," she said, "when will you learn that I know everything?"

 Simon decided he had a great deal of respect for Violet Bridgerton.

 But even still, she managed to completely confuse him with a question and a smile. "Tell me, your grace," she said, "are you busy tomorrow?"

 Despite her blond and blue-eyed coloring, she looked so like Daphne as she asked him this question that he was momentarily befuddled. Which had to be the only reason he didn't bother to think before he stammered, "N-no. Not that I recall."

 "Excellent!" Violet exclaimed, beaming. "Then you must join us on our outing to Greenwich."

 "Greenwich?" Simon echoed.

 "Yes, we've been planning a family outing for several weeks now. We thought we'd take a boat, then perhaps have a picnic on the shores of the Thames." Violet smiled at him confidently. "You'll come, won't you?"

 "Mother," Daphne interjected, "I'm certain the duke has any number of commitments."

 Violet gave Daphne a look so frigid Simon was surprised that neither one of them turned to ice. "Nonsense," Violet replied. "He just said himself that he wasn't busy." She turned back to Simon. "And we shall be visiting the Royal Observatory as well, so you needn't worry that this will be a mindless jaunt. It's not open to the public, of course, but my late husband was a great patron, so we are assured entry."

 Simon looked at Daphne. She just shrugged and apologized with her eyes.He turned back to Violet. "I'd be delighted."

 Violet beamed and patted him on the arm.

 And Simon had the sinking sensation that his fate had just been sealed.

 Chapter 8

 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 cocked 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?"

 Thatshe 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.