Page 45 of Sense and Suitability
“You have yet to prove it to me,” Mrs. Thornbury replied crisply.“Especially given the spectacle I encountered between you and this... Miss Lockhart upon my arrival.”
“As I said before,” Simon replied, his tone tight, “there is nothing of consequence between Miss Lockhart and me. We are acquaintances—unexpected ones today—and that is all.”
Nothing of consequence.The words lodged in Emme’s chest, sharp and unyielding. Of course there wasn’t. He’d made that perfectly clear two seasons ago. Then why, despite her better judgment, did she keep tormenting herself with what-ifs?
Ridiculous heart. Ridiculous man.
“And I would hope,” Simon pressed, his voice low and steady, “that you still have some faith in me. I will do whatever is necessary to protect the family I still have.”
Emme’s hand flew to her chest at the unguarded steel in his words.The family he still had?What did he mean? This conversation only reinforced how little she truly knew about the Simon she had fallen for two years ago. About what lay beneath his charm, thoughtfulness, and... friendship.
But no—she had seen his protectiveness. He had always been considerate, even during their courtship. And today he had not hesitated to dive into the pond for her or steady her on the steps. That part of him remained unchanged.
Something wasn’t making sense. Whether that something lay completely between Emme’s ears or not was yet to be discovered.
“I want to believe that, Nephew,” came Mrs. Thornbury’s frosty reply, “which is why I even proposed to help you in the first place. I want to believe there is some trace of my poor sister in you—a commitment to your position and your family.”
A hush settled, and Emme edged closer to the door. She caught their reflections in a gilded mirror angled in the corner of the room—Simon, drenched and disheveled, yet somehow still arresting,and Mrs. Thornbury, a vision of impeccable authority in her fine crepe suit and perfectly matched hat. The woman rivaled Aunt Bean in both presentation and sheer intimidation.
Emme pressed back against the wall, guilt prickling.What are you doing? Eavesdropping, that’s what.Mother would be horrified. Truly, Emme should retreat to the hallway and allow Simon and his aunt the privacy their conversation deserved, but her booted feet refused to heed her conscience.
“But I am not naive to your past, Simon. No matter your promises of reform, I will not contribute to your father’s failed legacy.”
“Neither will I,” Simon replied without hesitation.
Emme’s breath hitched. Those words—and the quiet weight behind them—lingered. The rumors of Simon’s troubles had never hinted at the full scale of his burden. She’d thought of debt as an abstract problem, something solvable through effort and strategy. But this... this seemed near-ruinous. Ravenscross wasn’t just struggling; it was gasping for air. And Simon was clearly in need of more than clever ideas. He needed help. And money.
Was this what faced him when he learned of his cousin’s and father’s deaths? When he realized his inherited title? No, he couldn’t have known the full degree of it on that night so long ago. The breadth must have unraveled over months.
Mrs. Thornbury’s stare remained unwavering, her jaw as stubborn as his. “I am not given to fits of blind compassion, but I am... hopeful.” Her words hung in the air, a deliberate challenge. “Hopeful that my faith is not misplaced.”
“It is not,” Simon replied firmly.
“Hmm...” Mrs. Thornbury’s skeptical hum lingered. With a rustle of skirts, she finally settled into a high-backed chair near the fire. “If that is the case, then I shall speak plainly. I intend to offer you a monthly allowance. Not a great sum, mind you, butenough to provide remedial support as you continue to improve your situation.”
Simon’s shoulders eased. He took a seat opposite her. “I cannot express my gratitude enough—”
Mrs. Thornbury raised a gloved hand to halt him. “There are three conditions to this arrangement,” she interjected. “The first is immediate and likely the simplest. You must hire a governessposthasteto create structure for those children.”
A governess? Simon didn’t have one already? Emme’s brow furrowed as she ducked back away from the doorway, her mind racing. How many siblings was Simon looking after? She’d only met two today, but there was also Miss Arianna Reeves, whose striking resemblance to Simon was impossible to miss. And Mr. Theodore Reeves, whose reputation for rakish behavior could scarcely have been worse.
Was the lack of a governess due to cost? The very thought deepened her awareness of Simon’s predicament.
“Of course,” Simon answered. “I shall begin inquiries first thing in the morning.”
“The second stipulation is that you acquire a suitable bride by the end of the season.”
The outlandish declaration pulled Emme back to the door.
“What?”
Emme’s thoughts echoed Simon’s exclamation.Suitable.Her stomach dropped. Suitable for whom? And by what standards?
Surely Mrs. Thornbury must mean a woman with wealth and status, possibly even a title.
She pulled herself back away from the door, her frown deepening.
Certainly not an eavesdropping gentleman farmer’s daughter with barely two thousand pounds to her name—and a secret, slightly scandalous occupation to boot. No, Emmeline Lockhart was anything but suitable.
