Page 22 of Sense and Suitability
The loss stung afresh. A year ago, they’d buried their mother. And he’d spent all that time shoving his grief beneath the necessity of the next thing. He nodded, biding himself time to rediscover his voice.
And then Simon began to doubt Midas’s instigation of this plan into the brambles. Most likely, Fia had seen the rose buried beneath the thorns and set her mind to “rescuing” it.
“I need to put away these tools.” Simon stood, lowering the little girl to the floor. “Why don’t you run ahead to my study so Mrs. Patterson can put some salve on your scratches, and then we can take the rose to Mother’s grave.”
Her eyes lit, tears still poised on those long lashes of hers. Without a word, she dashed away, nearly colliding with Ben as he entered the stables.
“What happened to that one?” Ben gestured toward the direction Fia had disappeared. “The cat?”
Simon placed the hammer back in its box. “Actually, it was more of a rose rescue gone awry.”
“Ouch.” His pale hair bobbed in time with the shake of his head. “Have I mentioned how badly you need a governess?”
“If you’ve come to state the obvious, feel free to leave,” Simon muttered, brushing past him.
Ben fell into step with him. “Actually, I came for you to tell me something I don’t already know.” When Simon gave no response, Ben continued, “Why did you leave the ball so early last night? I’ve heard of at least a half dozen ladies eager to meet you.”
Simon’s stomach plummeted at the thought. A half dozen more?
“Some of them were excessively pretty,” Ben added with a teasing smirk. Simon shot him a glare, which only brought out Ben’s laugh. “I expected more fortitude from you, Ravenscross. Running scared from a ball?” His friend tsked. “After everything you’ve endured over the past months to build your character?”
“There are some things for which one cannot prepare.” The memory of Emme’s lips secured his statement eternally. “Or recover.” He growled out the words more to himself, but the scoffed laugh from his friend proved he’d not spoken quietly enough.
One day, Simon might truly lose all self-control and give Ben a solid throttling.
“What on earth happened?”
Simon increased his pace.
Ben rounded him to block his progress, the man’s usually jovial expression sobering. “You talked toher, didn’t you?”
The question brought Simon to a stop. How did Ben always know? It was uncanny and, quite frankly, infuriating.
“You did.” Ben crossed his arms, studying him with unnerving perceptiveness. “I knew you were avoiding her, but how did you find your way to talk to her?”
Simon drew in a breath and started walking again, this time slower.
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t pursue anything with her, and she made it perfectly plain she wanted nothing to do with me.”
Except for the kiss. And the kiss suggested otherwise.
Ben had been the only person outside his own parents who’d known Simon’s plans to propose to Emme. The only person who likelyunderstood the extent of Simon’s feelings. And one of the few people who knew the full, devastating impact of Simon’s change in position.
Ben arched a brow. “Did she, though?”
Simon ignored the jab, but his mind betrayed him, replaying the kiss—the way she’d softened against him, the way her breath had hitched, the vulnerability and interest in those eyes.
Ben clapped him on the shoulder. “Affections like that don’t just vanish, Simon. Even after all this time. Not entirely.”
“Perhaps not, but affections can be conquered.” He raised his gaze to the house and the grounds stretching back toward the forest, solidifying his claim. “They must.”
For the future of Ravenscross and the good of his family, they must.
So he needed either to find a wife as soon as possible so that he could stop attending balls, or never to find himself alone with Emmeline Lockhart again. Affections could be mastered, but Simon was no master of them yet.
Chapter 5
“As with our previous lesson on catching a husband...”
