fly to the time of day//simon basset

seventeen

Simon and I have been at each other since our fight. Doing every little thing possible to upset the other. We are sitting at the dining table for dinner, Simon on one end and I on the other.

I lean towards one of the servants. "Would you please ask Miss Woods if my personal effects have yet been removed from the Duke's bedchamber and placed in the Duchess's rooms?"

Simon turns to the servant closest to him. "Would you please inform Her Grace that I will allow no such thing?"

"Should I really deliver the message, Your Grace?" the man questions.

"You cannot believe I shall welcome you back into my bed after your lies and deception?" I question.

"Rest assured, marital relations are the least of my concern after your recent efforts," Simon tells me.

I smile a sickeningly sweet smile. "What efforts? If I remember correctly you could not resist." Simon glares. "For what other purpose could you possibly wish to detain me?"

"Because you are my wife," Simon tells me.

"It is customary for a wife to reside in her own bedchamber once the honeymoon is over," I remind him, "a time that has well and truly passed, would you not agree?"

"I will be kept informed as to the success of your conjugal endeavors," Simon tells me.

"I believe it was our conjugal endeavors. It does take two." I sigh. "I would never dream of concealing the truth of such important matters."

Lizzy comes into the room with paper in hand. "Your Grace, Whistledown has just arrived. Well, you should..."

I read over the front of the gossip sheet and my face falls.

"Is something wrong?" Simon asks.

"We must pack straightaway," I tell Lizzy.

Lizzy nods in understanding. "Yes, Your Grace."

"What has happened?" Simon questions.

"My brother seems to have been embroiled in scandal," I inform him. "I must return to my family immediately. They will need me."

"I will accompany you," Simon insists.

I shake my head. "This is a family matter."

"Separate bedrooms may be tolerated. Separate households will not be suffered," Simon tells me. "I'll not let you out of my sight

until we know whether you are with child."

I scoff. "You and I both know that isn't possible." I smile. "Oh wait, it wasn't possible until you forgot the very important step of pulling out." I turn to one of the servants. "Please request that His Grace prepare his largest carriage. I shall require my space."

Miss Marina Thompson's recent fall from grace continues to echo through every drawing room in town, days after it was revealed her engagement to Colin Bridgerton was nothing more than a sham. Of course, a lady's disgrace does not merely tarnish her own name. Like the tars of the Thames, it also leaves a horrid smear on anyone nearby.

While there is no parasol in the world strong enough to shelter a ruined woman, the fallen Miss Thompson can only hope she shall find a refuge... somewhere.

By the time Simon and I arrive in London it is dark. We did not speak a word to one another the entire journey. I step out of the carriage first and Simon goes to follow.

"There is no need to act the jailer. I shall not discover I am with child within the next hour, shall I?" I remark.

Simon says no more as I head into my family's home. I am directed to the parlor where Mama, Anthony, Benedict, and Colin are.