Page 108 of The Viscount in her Bedroom
“You may not be aware, Simon, but that woman has areputation.”
“What kind of reputation?” Simon asked. He felt a little ill, knowing that he himself had once had the same reservations.
“She is known to be of…easy virtue,” she said primly.
“Once you know her, you will see that the rumors are just that—rumors.”
“Surely Leo told you—”
“Hell, he toldyou!”
“Simon, your language!”
“He was drunk when he proved himself less than a gentleman by repeating such gossip to me. What excuse did he have for telling you?”
“I admit that he did not realize I was close enough to overhear his conversation with you.”
“That’s because he was drunk,” Simon said with disgust. “I wonder why I didn’t see you. Were you hiding?”
“Simon!”
“Regardless, please treat Miss Shelby with the respect she deserves.”
She sighed dramatically. “I fear I am already too late.”
“Too late to treat her well?”
“Too late to keep her from…attaching herself to you.”
Simon sat back, surprised and disturbed. What did his mother know—or guess? “So what happened between you ladies before I arrived?”
“Nothing, but I am very good at guessing people’s motivations.”
Or ascribing nasty motivations to something clearly innocent, but he knew better than to say that aloud.
And what he had shared with Louisa was hardly innocent, but that was his fault.
“And what would Miss Shelby’s motivations be beyond the obvious?” Simon asked. “Grandmama employed her, then asked her to help ease Georgie’s shyness.”
“That woman’s father was a mere banker!” she said, as if the career were no better than that of a chimney sweep. “And he lost everything!”
“And Louisa had to look for work in order to survive.”
“You call her by her Christian name?” his mother said, aghast.
Ignoring that, he continued, “So you’re judging her for faults not her own?”
“It is certainly her own fault if she came here specifically for your money and family connections.”
Simon had once wondered the same thing. Was he really so much like his mother?
At least he learned from his mistakes. Louisa only had the best, most generous intentions in everything she did. But he could hardly say that to his mother. “Louisa is not—”
“She knows you can’t do any better,” Mother interrupted. “How cruel of her to take advantage of you like this. I just refuse to let it happen.”
If Simon could stare in shock, he would be doing it. His mother didn’t think a woman could want him as he was. At least Simon himself only thought he’d be a burden to a wife.
He shouldn’t be surprised—his mother’s behavior toward him had vastly changed after his accident, as if she didn’t know how to treat him anymore. He was no longer her socially successful son.
