Page 114 of Sense and Suitability
“Isn’t it obvious? Miss Hemston was a complete disaster, and now you’ve gone and given your heart to anauthoress—a woman who kept this shameful secret from you. Why? To trick you into an attachment?”
Simon barked a humorless laugh. “Hardly. She had no idea I intended to propose at the ball. If she had known of my renewed affection, she would have told me the truth.”
“How convenient,” Aunt Agatha replied, her tone dripping with disdain. “And yet here you are, entangled with someone who brings neither fortune nor reputation to your already precarious circumstances.”
Simon took a deliberate step closer, his frustration rising. “And what of character, Aunt? Or intellect? Or kindness? Do those virtues hold no value to you?” He drew a measured breath. “Miss Lockhart is more than her title of authoress, just as I am more than my father’s son. I will not have her degraded in my presence.”
Her brows lifted at his tone, but she recovered swiftly. “And yet you persist? You will stand by her? Even now? Even when the world would call you a fool for bringing such a shadow onto an already stained family name?”
He tightened his grip on the manuscript tucked beneath his arm. “I would not only stand by her, but if circumstances permitted, I would marry her tomorrow and count myself the luckiest man alive.”
“You’re a fool, Simon,” she snapped.
He stepped forward, his body rigid with contained fury. “The sum of a person is far greater than their wealth or name, as well you know.”
“But both are advantageous—indeed, necessary—in your position. And now, she brings neither.”
The blow only ignited his fury even more. “Are you taunting me, Aunt? I had thought you stern but fair. And yet here you stand, spouting cruelty as though it were wisdom.”
“Not cruelty. Reality.” She leaned forward, her eyes hard. “Some choices in life are hard. And you must still make the right ones by putting sentimentality and passion aside for the good of your family.Your father, from the very beginning, chose my sister as his wife for her money alone. And then he proceeded to whittle away at her happiness by moving from whim to whim, disregarding her needs or feelings. Do not follow your passions into ruin, Simon.”
“I amnotmy father.” His voice rose, startling the sparrows in the hedgerows. “And punishing me for his sins will only lead you to alienating the only blood relations who truly care for you.” Though his care for her was waning at present. “I love this family deeply—enough to make sacrifices you cannot imagine. But I will not punish myself—or her—for his sins.”
Something flickered in her expression—recognition, perhaps, or reluctant respect. Before she could respond, a small voice broke the tension.
“Simon!”
He turned to see Fia sprinting toward him, her dress streaked with mud, her grin wide enough to reveal the fresh gap of a missing tooth. “Simon!”
His frustration ebbed at the sight of her. “What is it, Fia?”
“I found something,” she called, holding out her fists as she approached.
“Is it—” Aunt Agatha’s voice caught, eyeing the child with visible apprehension. “Is it your little frog?”
Fia blinked over at Aunt Agatha. “He found his family, so I let him go.” She frowned and released a long sigh, looking back over her shoulder at the creek. “Simon said it was good for frogs to be with their family instead of with humans, and I wanted Blast to be happy.”
“Then what is that you have in your hand for us?” Aunt Agatha clearly wanted no surprises from her little niece, and with Fia’s pattern of “rescuing” slimy creatures, it was no wonder. Aunt Aggie was not fond of slimy creatures. In fact, to be such a strong woman, Simon might even go as far as to say his aunt was a little scared of them.
“Oh.” Fia looked down at her closed fist, and then her face brightened. “This isn’t for you, Aunt Aggie. It’s for Simon.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Ah, good. Carry on then, darling.”
Something in the woman’s countenance had changed a little. Shifted, but Simon wasn’t certain how to interpret it, and at the moment, all he wanted to do was leave her alone in the garden with as many slimy creatures as Fia could find. It would serve her right.
Simon tucked the manuscript beneath his arm and lowered himself to a knee, thankful for the distraction from his aunt’s criticism. “What have you found, sweetheart?”
She brought her hands closer and turned them over. Simon braced himself for something to jump from her palms as she opened her fingers to reveal... a small pile of muddy quartz in each hand.
“I found two handfuls of diamonds this time, Simon.” Fia placed her two small heaps of muddy quartz into his one open palm. “That should be enough, don’t you think?”
Aunt Agatha made a strangled noise. “Diamonds? My dear child—”
“Enough for what, lamb?” Simon interrupted.
“To marry Emme.” Her entire face beamed. “Lottie said you already loved her, and she loved you, but all you needed was money. And we have some in our creek, so it wasn’t too hard to find. Diamonds areveryexpensive.”
Simon stared at the muddy quartz in his palm, the stones smudging his skin with wet earth. The weight of Fia’s innocence pressed against the storm of emotions warring within him. He lifted his gaze to meet her bright, trusting smile, her dimples as deep as the faith she held in him.
