Page 115 of Sense and Suitability
He swallowed past the lump in his throat, willing his voice to remain steady. “These are... magnificent diamonds, Fia. Truly the finest I’ve ever seen.” Blast it all! He was very near to crying!
Clearly, he was going mad.
“Thank you, Fia.” Simon touched her head with his free hand, pressing a kiss into her curls. It bought him a moment to calm the storm threatening to overtake him. “I’m certain Emme will appreciate your thoughtfulness.” He cleared his throat, steadying his voice. “Would you be so kind as to run inside and ask Mrs. Patterson to prepare tea for Aunt Aggie and me? I believe she could use some refreshment after her long journey.”
Fia tilted her head, studying Aunt Agatha as if weighing the truth of his words, before giving a decisive nod. Her wide grin returned, and with a quick turn, she darted off toward the house, one of the dogs bounding after her.
Simon slowly stood and turned toward his aunt, fisting the stones in his hands until they pinched his skin. “I appreciate what you’ve done for this family, Aunt Agatha. You have kept us from financial ruin, and I haven’t the words to thank you enough.”
She regarded him with a measured expression, her gloved hands folded neatly before her.
“But,” he continued, his tone sharpening, “I will not allow you to bind me—or Miss Lockhart—to judgments we do not deserve. My father may have been a scoundrel and a cold man, and the wounds he inflicted on this family are undeniable. But I am not him.”
Her gaze faltered, her lips tightening.
“And as for Emmeline Lockhart,” he pressed on, “she is the most genuinely kind and thoughtful woman of my acquaintance. She is also a talented author, and I am not ashamed to be associated with her. In fact, if your goal was for me to marry someone who could save the heart of this estate, this family, it would be her. Not out of wealth or position, but out of sheer generosity of spirit.”
A sharp breath escaped him as he laughed. “She could write a thousand novels, filled with pirates, vampires, or whatever she pleases, and I would bask in the joy of calling her mine.”
He stopped, his chest heaving slightly, the weight of his wordshanging in the charged silence. Then he saw it—a crack in Aunt Agatha’s steely composure. Tears glistened in her eyes, and the taut line of her mouth trembled, a hint to her struggle for control.
Slowly, she pushed herself to a stand, attention unwavering. “I have been a blind and fearful fool, Simon.” She pressed her fist to her chest and swallowed, her breaths halting. “Watching my sister wither away after being treated so cruelly by a man who’d won her heart with his charm and false promises—I couldn’t bear to see it happen again. Not to you. Not to these children.”
Simon blinked, his anger giving way to understanding.
“You look so much like him,” she continued, her voice breaking. “The firstborn, his spitting image. And when Miss Hemston arrived, with her charm and wealth, I thought I was watching history repeat itself. She was the type of person I feared would woo you with her words and money. Then came Miss Lockhart and the revelation of her books. I feared you were being drawn into yet another trap—this time by a woman who might be as disingenuous as the last. And instead of becoming your father, you’d fall victim to the long and painful illness of being wed to a manipulative and selfish person.”
Like Mother.
All anger fled and he saw her clearly now. Her stubbornness and her ultimatums were birthed from an unfettered fear of watching a second generation of the Reeves family self-destruct. In her own way, she’d given herself the assignment of reforming and saving the family by whatever means within her control, and in the process, the fear had blurred her vision as much as Simon’s.
“I am the only family left to you.” Her voice quivered, those eyes—stern only a moment ago—had transformed into pale pools of liquid tenderness. “I took it upon myself, uninvited, to guard you. To keep you safe. And in the process, I—”
“Aunt Aggie,” he said gently, using her nickname to rebuild the intimacy he’d once known with her. “Perhaps you couldn’t trustme to make the right decision a few months ago. But you can now. Marrying Emme may not be the easiest path, but it is the right one—and a very good one.”
As if working through the kinks, her worry-wrinkled brow and tense features finally bowed to a smile. “You’re right,” she admitted quietly. “You are not your father. And Miss Lockhart...” She paused, inhaling deeply. “She is nothing like the women I feared.”
Simon smiled, taking her hand in his. “Thank you.”
She looked away, tugging her hand from his, attempting to compose herself. And then she turned her gaze back to him, a glimmer in her eyes. “Is she a good writer?”
His grin tipped. “Very good. Excellent, in fact.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Though her judgment may need some strengthening.”
Aunt Agatha tipped her head in silent question.
He raised the manuscript to her view. “She wrote me as a hero.”
“Did she?” His aunt’s brow rose, and with a click of her tongue, she added, “If she’s written you as a hero, I expect you to live up to it.”
“I’ll do my best.” He offered her his arm, turning them toward the house. “But I’m fairly certain I’ll still need assistance from my very helpful and extremely vocal family.”
“Yes.” She nodded, giving him a thorough look of appraisal, her lips tipping ever so slightly. “Thank heaven, we are here to help you, poor man.”
His chuckled warmed over the previous tension. “Thank heaven, indeed.”
They’d taken only a few steps when Aunt Aggie paused him with a squeeze to his arm. He looked down at her, her expression gentle yet filled with conviction. “I don’t have diamonds, Simon,” she said with a rueful smile. “But I do have the ability to try to set things right.”
Chapter 25
