Page 54 of Sense and Suitability
Simon squinted up at him. “Your encouragement knows no bounds.”
But the levity had ebbed. Even Ben’s steps carried a heaviness as he moved to the door. Pausing at the threshold, he glanced back, his expression unusually grave.
“I know I tease about practicality,” he began, hesitating before meeting Simon’s gaze. “But you’re a good man. One of the better ones, despite my otherwise deplorable taste in friends.”
Simon’s lips twitched at the poorly veiled compliment.
“And I don’t want to see you...” Ben faltered, his tone softening. “This is your life, Simon. ‘Until death do us part’ can be an awfully long time with someone you neither respect nor care for.”
The warning struck low and firm, tightening Simon’s chest.
Ben patted the doorframe, a flicker of his usual grin returning. “My father once told me that when choosing a bride, I should at least find someone I could stand to be in the same room with.”
“Very practical.” Simon shook his head, his gaze traveling back to the fire. Low expectations, low results?
But Ben’s lingering silence pulled Simon’s attention once more, his friend’s expression uncharacteristically earnest. “But I’d say it is even better if you can find someone who makes you forget there’s a room at all.”
With that, Ben stepped out, leaving Simon alone with the gravity of his words. Ben’s mother had been a silly, selfish woman who’d cast a shadow over the entire household until her death. Simon had no intention of following such a path.
If he were to choose a bride, it would need to be someone he could trust—or at the very least tolerate without constant friction. But truly respect? That was a high bar in his world.
And yet, only one person came to mind. One person who, against all logic, tempted him to forget not only the room but his very reason for being there.
Simon’s lips finally gave way to a faint smile, but it was a sad imitation, lacking the joy it once carried.
What he’d hoped to bring to this family two years ago had to die.
What he needed to bring to this family now must remain his focus.
And he prayed to see Emmeline Lockhart as little as possible during his search because no bride should ever have to compete with another woman for her husband’s heart.
Chapter 11
“Would you mind repeating that?” Thomas stared at Emme, his brow growing more creased by the second.
“We should help Lord Ravenscross and his family.” Emme picked at a piece of lint on the settee before raising her gaze to Thomas’s. “How could we not at least try after all we’ve discovered about their situation, Thomas?”
“We?” His blond brows hitched upward.
“Heisone of the flock in your parish, isn’t he?”
“A viscount in financial straits is rather different than a farmer’s widow, Emme.” Thomas took a few steps closer to her and rested his hand on the back of the chair nearby, as if bracing himself. “I’m not certain how welcome my help might be.”
“That’s all the more reason to help.” She waved a hand toward him, her voice firm. “He’s not the sort to ask for it, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need it. And he’s not just a viscount. He’s also a son, grieving the loss of so much, carrying the weight of responsibility for his family. He could use some encouragement and guidance, I’m certain of it.”
“Emme, I don’t know that it’s wise for you to get involved.” His knowing look caused her to glance down at the lint again.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
His sigh filled the room. “Lest you forget, cousin-dear, he is the man who slighted you, left you to fend for yourself among the socialpariahs, and broke your heart. You may not have the clearest vision on this.”
“Or my vision is very clear because of it,” she shot back, only to meet his knowing look.
She immediately found the lint incredibly interesting again.
“He must make a practical and responsible decision, not a sentimental one, Emme.”
Thomas didn’t have to go about reminding her. Her heart knew the sting all too well. “Perhaps because I understand Lord Ravenscross better, because I’ve seen past the aristocratic facade to the man beneath”—an unbidden vision of him in the damp shirt from the pond came to mind, but she shook it off—“I know how best to help him. And... well, he has a good heart, and he’s found himself in a bad spot. Those poor children, Thomas. I don’t want to see him or his family suffer any more than they already have.”
