A Bluestocking Christmas by Monica Burns Read Free Book Online

met his nephew’s furious gaze.
    “No, Anthony. I’m not lying,” he said quietly. “When I offered to pay Miss Beecham to end your liaison, she told me she didn’t want my money.”
    “As Miss Beecham tells it, she simply asked what price you were willing to put on your relationship with me,” Anthony bit out. Simon grimaced at the accusation in his nephew’s gaze.
    “I don’t deny offering her money to stay away from you. As your guardian, it was the appropriate action to take. The truth of it is Miss Beecham made it clear she didn’t want my money. Instead, she indicated that perhaps what you needed was a wife.”
    “Maybe I do,” Anthony snapped. “But that’s my business. Not yours.”
    “Until you come of age, it is my business.” Simon studied his nephew for a moment, reluctant to dredge up his own past simply to make a point. He drew in a sharp breath then exhaled it. “And I don’t intend to let you make the same mistake I almost made when I was younger.”
    “ Your mistake?” Anthony directed a baleful stare at Simon.  
    “When I was your age, I thought I was in love.” Simon’s body tightened as the past pushed its way out of the dark place where he kept all the humiliation of that time in his life. It still stung even after all these years. “She was a tradesman’s daughter, and when I proposed she accepted. The moment my father learned of our engagement, he made it a point to illustrate the difference between a commoner and someone of our station. I never forgot that lesson.”
    “I’m not you, Simon, and you—”  
    “The matter is not up for discussion,” Simon snarled.
    Tension knotting his muscles, he brushed past Anthony to stalk toward the sideboard, where he poured himself a stiff bout of whiskey. It was way too early in the day to indulge in spirits, but he didn’t care. Simon tossed the amber liquid down his throat and coughed slightly as the fiery liquid burned its way down into his chest.  
    It had been a long time since the anger and pain had flooded his limbs as it was doing at this moment. Images of his father and Elizabeth rose up out of the past to taunt him. His conviction that Elizabeth was beyond reproach had been so strong that he’d challenged his father to find fault with her. His father had done just that. The bastard had bedded Elizabeth and deliberately allowed Simon to stumble upon the two of them.  
    “Damnit, Simon, you can’t judge Miss Beecham or any other woman based on their position in society.” Anthony’s belligerent tone made Simon whirl around to face his nephew.
      “I can, and I will, because my father taught me how easily a commoner’s daughter can be bribed. He made a settlement on the woman I thought loved me, and he bedded the bitch,” Simon said with contempt as he swallowed the bile rising in his throat. His father had taught him a valuable lesson, but he’d never forgiven the bastard for being his tutor.  
    “Bloody hell,” Anthony exclaimed in a hushed voice.
    “I understand your fascination with Ivy Beecham. She’s an enticing morsel, but marriage is out of the question,” Simon bit out.
      “I have no desire to marry her,” Anthony said with quiet, steely precision.  
    Frowning, Simon studied his nephew’s face for any sign of deception. For a man so in love, the boy was giving the woman up far too easily. He couldn’t remember the number of times the boy had waxed poetic about Ivy Beecham’s charms. The lad had given the woman his highest accolades, calling her lovely, pleasant, amusing, and kind. There had been more than a dozen different descriptions of the lovely Ivy’s charms.  
    “Did you hear me, Simon?” His nephew’s gaze was harsh and cold as their eyes met.
    Simon expressed his satisfaction at Anthony’s announcement with a sharp nod. Relief sailed through him at the boy’s sudden about-face. At least his nephew wouldn’t be crushed when Simon made Ivy his mistress. And if there was one