Passions of a Gentleman (Gentlemen of Honor Book 3) Read Online Free

mother, Mrs. John Banks, was just as forward—if not more so. That poor man had the same chance of survival as a rabbit in a lion’s den.
    Simon swung his gaze over to where Townson stood in the back corner of the ballroom, his eyes fastened on his wife and the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. Besotted fool.
    In the three years Simon had been working with his father in investments he’d been over to Lord Townson’s townhouse more times than he could count and every single time that man wore that same expression whenever his wife was in view.
    Simon had never understood it though. His parents had a love match, but they had been…different. He couldn’t place just how nor did he know why, but they’d never been as open about their affections as Lord and Lady Town—
    All useless thoughts of his parents or Lord and Lady Townson’s love match evaporated in less than a second when from the corner of his eye he glimpsed another love match: Lord and Lady Belgrave.
    Bile surged up his throat and filled his mouth.
    “I need—” Simon choked around the burning feeling in his throat then coughed, which only led him then to wince and finally flush with embarrassment.
    Lady Townson, apparently not as silly as she first appeared, reached her hand out and gently touched his forearm. “To dance,” she said softly.
    His eyes flared wide, but he was powerless to do anything to stop them. Dance? That was the last thing he thought he needed to be doing.
    Just then, Lady Townson flickered a glance in the direction of Lord and Lady Belgrave. “Dance with Henrietta,” she said softly her brown eyes softening. “The whole room is watching. Give them something to talk about.”

3
    G ive them something to talk about. That was Brooke’s mantra, indeed.
    But for just this once, Brooke was right, and Henrietta knew it. Making a mental note to wax wistfully on about her visit to that atrocious museum with Lord Ringsley when Brooke tried to persuade her to encourage Mr. Appleton’s suit, Henrietta took Simon’s hand and allowed him to lead her into the middle of the floor. His eyes shone with something she didn’t recognize right away. Could it possibly be gratitude?
    She nearly snorted. Simon Appleton was the last person in the world who’d be showing her gratitude. Brooke had been right in her earlier assessment of Simon: wealthy and handsome, young and charming, he was the most eligible untitled man on the Marriage Mart—and if one were to be completely honest, he was even more sought after than many of those who held a rank.
    The orchestra started up and Simon and Henrietta’s bodies fell into proper stance as around them, the entire room full of people faded away.
    When they’d danced previously, Simon had held her a little closer than was proper. This time, however, it was obvious. Very obvious.
    She wasn’t quite certain if he was doing it intentionally or not, nor did she care to question it. For as irritating as Simon was, he was certainly a skilled dancer—and more than that, his strong hold of her made her feel safe. Not threatened or afraid, nor like he was just going through the motions of being a good dance partner while entertaining thoughts of everything else he’d rather be doing than dancing with her.
    Swallowing the uncomfortable lump that had just formed in her throat, she offered Simon her best smile.
    She actually rather enjoyed his hold on her. Of course she’d never tell him—or Brooke—such!
    Immediately she thrust the very idea from her head. Such a thought did not belong there. Ever. She was only dancing with him as a favor to him, and he was only dancing with her as some sort of balm for his broken heart.
    Henrietta glanced over his broad shoulder to the woman who’d devastated him. Ironic. Every other young lady in the room would give her best ball gown to dance with Simon, and the only other young lady in the room who had ever danced with him had rejected him. Well, that wasn’t necessarily