Page 48 of Sense and Suitability
Her fingers idly traced the embroidered edge of the elegant green day dress Mrs. Patterson had left for her to wear. It had been Arianna’s, she’d heard Simon say.
Arianna Reeves. An undisputed beauty with her dark hair and eyes a shade of blue matching Simon’s. Where was she? What had happened to her?
Emme’s thoughts trailed to Charlotte. And why would a viscount’s little sister feel the need to steal chickens?
The events of the morning—and everything since she’d seen Simon again this season—swirled through her thoughts in a hopeless tangle, not unlike the garden below. She studied the walled sprawl of vines and flowers, noting where a careful hand had once tried to tame the chaos.
Had that been his mother’s work?
Lowering herself onto the window seat, Emme pressed a hand to her chest. What had happened toher? How had she died? And how did the trinity of losses—his father, his mother, and whatever fate had befallen Arianna—shape Simon’s choices?
Her heart ached with a strange tenderness. Perhaps his reasons for leaving her two years ago held more nuance than she had believed.It didn’t absolve him of not telling her the truth, but it reshaped the heartbreak. Maybe it wasn’t that he had rejected her, but rather that he had chosen someone else—someone who needed him more.
Could the “ladies” he’d boasted taking precedence over her have been his sisters? His mother?
The realization settled over her like a long-overdue answer to an unsolvable riddle. The nonsensical suddenly made sense. And despite everything, compassion for Simon Reeves swelled in her chest.
He needed help in so many ways.
A scrape outside the room pulled Emme to her feet.
Opening the door, Emme came face-to-face with a sight that could only be described as the most peculiar kind of adorableness she’d ever encountered. A little girl stood there, no more than six years old, her golden curls a wild tangle accented with a few blades of grass and a smudge of dirt on one cheek. She might have stepped straight from the pages of a fairy tale—if Ravenscross’s library contained such stories.
Surely it did. Perhaps not novels, but certainly fairy tales.
At the girl’s side was a gray hound, who shuffled forward to sniff Emme’s skirts before graciously accepting a pat on the head and returning to his young charge.
“Hello.” Emme crouched slightly to meet the girl’s wide, fawn-brown eyes. “And who might you be?”
The little girl examined Emme a moment before responding. “I’m Fia.”
“Fia?” Short for... Sophia, perhaps? “It is nice to meet you. My name is Emme.”
Emme’s longer name often proved burdensome for little ones and “Miss” seemed much too formal for such an informal introduction. If this was another of Simon’s siblings, she looked the least like the other Reeveses with that blonde hair and those large brown eyes. Perhaps through the nose?
Fia’s dimpled smile widened. “Are you a friend of Simon’s?”
The wordfriendcarried a weight Emme hadn’t anticipated. “I am.”
“Lottie said so.” Fia nodded as she pulled something from the pocket of her rumpled dress.
A wriggling something.
A frog-like wriggling something. And from the grip Fia had on the creature, it was likely fighting for its life.
“And you will like my friend.”
Emme’s stomach twisted, but she managed to keep her expression neutral. “Your friend?”
“His name is Blast.” Fia thrust the amphibian toward her. “And Lottie said you’d like him.”
Lottie? Hmm... Charlotte?
A flicker of movement in the hallway caught Emme’s eye, and she spotted a dark head of curls vanishing around the corner. Clearly, little Miss Charlotte Reeves was testing her. But if Charlotte thought Emme would be easily unsettled, she was sorely mistaken. After all, Emme had been the substitute mother to her brother, Alfie, for years, and he had an unparalleled love for nature in all its most... unexpected forms.
Half out of spite and half out of compassion for the poor creature, Emme smoothed her hands over the fine fabric of the borrowed gown, then extended her palms to the little girl. “Let’s see what you have there then.”
“He’s a frog,” Fia announced, as if Emme didn’t know. “He’s very happy to see you. Look how he’s trying to jump into your hands.”
