Page 105 of A Portrait of Love

No, what had upset him was his brother’s behavior .

If Wyndham believed that Simon still loved the woman, why would he do such a thing? Did his brother really hate him so much? Was Wyndham’s desire to manipulate and control him more important than Simon’s well-being?

Anger at his brother’s actions caused his temperature to rise and made every muscle in his body clench; his fury only made his head worse.

Simon inhaled and exhaled deeply but slowly several times.

Once he’d taken control of his anger, he let his mind drift back to the source of this mess: Bella’s return.

Honestly, his visceral reaction had largely been habit. Not only did he have few actual memories of Bella, but he was a married man. And while he and Honoria had discussed lovers, that had been before their time together in Brighton. He liked the way their marriage was developing and believed she did, too.

Simon didn’t want any other lover.

There was no doubt in his mind that what he had with his new wife was a very good thing indeed. She was clever, sensual, and fascinating; they spent their time together loving, laughing, and discovering each other.

As for Bella? Well, there would always be some nostalgia about what they’d once shared. Simon suspected the nostalgia was even more powerful because his recollections were so foggy. No doubt his imagination had done its job filling in the blanks.

But now he and Bella were neighbors and Simon would see her whether he wanted to, or not. He would tackle the task of normalizing his relations with Bella and her family when he wasn’t writhing in agony.

Simon knew better than anyone that ghosts might appear insubstantial, but they could still exert a powerful influence.

The sooner he banished any remaining specters from his past, the better it would be for everyone.

***

Simon did not come out of his room for three days.

After the second day passed with no sign of her new husband Honey began to doubt that migraines were the real cause of his current seclusion.

Did such headaches really come on so suddenly? Could they be so severe as to keep him bed bound for three days? He had not suffered anything like it during their time together—why now? Why only when he reached home and spoke with his brother? Was it something else keeping him locked in his room? Was he a dipsomaniac? She had seen him in his cups more than a few times. Was that the sort of man she’d married—a drunkard?

Not knowing what was wrong with him was agonizing.

It was her new mother-in-law, the dowager, who finally put paid to her miserable wondering.

The older woman waited three days after they’d arrived at Everley to pay a visit.

“I’d planned to give you at least a week to settle in—I know how bothersome it is to have callers before one has unpacked—but then I heard Simon was suffering one of his notorious headaches and decided you must be feeling very neglected indeed.”

Honey liked her new mother-in-law—very much—and knew the kindly, somewhat vague older woman liked her, too.

The duchess’s ready confirmation of Simon’s migraines had relieved her—at first.

But then the dowager had related the object of the duke’s visit.

“Wyndham wanted to deliver the news in person.”

“News?” Honey repeated, pouring two cups of tea.

“Yes, about the return of Countess MacLeish.” She must have noticed Honey’s questioning look. Her pale cheeks flushed, and she said, “The countess was called Arabella Frampton before she married.”

Arabella? Bella? That Bella?

Honey had still been working through the confusing information when the older woman resumed her story.

“Bella and Simon were inseparable as youngsters.” The dowager cleared her throat. “At one time there was an understanding between them.”

So, the beautiful Bella, who’d so scattered Simon’s wits on that long ago day, was back in the neighborhood. But why should that be enough to drive Simon into his chambers for three days?