Page 84 of Sense and Suitability
Could choosing right for his heart also lead to what was right for everyone else he held dear?
“And what sort of business?” she asked, breaking the silence. “With wheat prices as they are, have you sought alternative sources of income?”
Trust her to dive straight into the heart of practical matters. She’d become her father’s confidante after her mother’s death, and her aptitude for sensible discussion was just another admirable quality.
“Besides implementing your suggestion about the tenants, I’ve acquired sheep, sold some timber, and leased some larger buildings to Mr. Arden for his expanding mill.”
“Oh, that’s an excellent choice,” she said brightly. “His opinion carries weight among the tradesmen. Have you approached Mr. Jenkins? I know he’s seeking more space for his fringe and lace business. And Mr. Leeds’s warehouse is nearly bursting.”
The urge to kiss her surged again, stronger than before. He was clearly losing his mind—and his battle with restraint.
When he failed to respond immediately, she took a cautious step back, a fresh rush of color highlighting her cheeks. “I’m sure these aren’t the most ladylike topics to discuss, but—”
“They’re excellent suggestions. And I thank you for them.” Hesplit the distance between them, taking her gloved hand in his. “Truly, Emme. Your kindness is... overwhelming.”
A pair of ladies approached, and Simon released Emme’s hand, doffing his hat and offering a welcome smile as the women passed. The younger of the two nearly turned all the way around as she walked, her smile anything but demure, but the fan she had in her hand took on new speed.
Emme chuckled softly, drawing his attention back to her. “You have quite the effect on the ladies, Lord Ravenscross. I daresay she nearly swooned at your smile.”
“Did she?” He turned his focus to her, the corners of his mouth quirking upward. “Does my smile induce swooning from you, Miss Lockhart?”
There it was—he’d danced far too close to the line, and he knew it.
Despite the momentary redirection of her gaze, she rallied her response. “Well, besides being undeniably handsome, you do have a certain dashing quality. Rather like John Willoughby as I imagine him in your current reading.”
“Ah, I see.” His confidence wavered. “I should much prefer to be viewed as honorable. Like the colonel.”
“Oh dear, but wouldn’t the combination of the two make the most delightful hero in a novel? Dashinganddevoted?” She sighed wistfully, her voice dipping as though she spoke to herself. “Imagine scripting such a character.”
He studied her profile as they resumed walking, the haberdashery now distressingly close. “You speak as though you’ve plans to create such a hero yourself.”
She faltered slightly but recovered. “Why not? You’re reading and enjoying a novel written by a woman, are you not?”
“I am. And the author’s talent is beyond reproach. But she is wise to keep her anonymity. A lady taking to writing as a profession is often viewed... poorly.”
Her expression hardened slightly as she turned her attention ahead. “What an unfortunate reality. Gentlemen inherit fortunes by virtue of birth, yet ladies cannot earn honest money without their reputations suffering.” She turned her gaze back to his, her look piercing. “Does that not strike you as terribly unfair?”
“There are many injustices in the world, I’m afraid.”
She tilted her head, her expression adorably stubborn. “Perhaps. But in our small part of it, I think we ought to make things right. Even in the everyday choices we make for the people we love.”
For the people we love.The words echoed in his mind, a pang of longing sharpening his awareness of her.Would that I were one of those people.
“Which you do so naturally,” he said, his voice softer now. “In that, you remind me very much of Elinor Dashwood.”
Her smile bloomed again. “Oh, I’m not so levelheaded, I’m afraid. But I do hope my heart is as compassionate as hers. She has a strength of character I greatly admire.”
“I’m afraid I must disagree with you on the matter of strength. You’ve borne your share of heartache with exceptional grace, and I’m ashamed to say I’ve been part of that.”
She looked down but did not respond.
“As for characters,” he continued, returning to a lighter refrain, “my confidence in Mr. Willoughby is waning considerably.”
Her brow arched slightly, her expression teasing. “Oh? And what has brought on this sudden concern?”
They were now within sight of the haberdashery, where Aster lingered in the doorway, watching them with obvious anticipation.
Still, Simon longed for just a few more moments. “I find myself impressed by Colonel Brandon’s steady nature, and Mr. Willoughby’s relentless criticism of him has begun to grate on my nerves. Something about it feels... off. And then there’s the matter of Lucy Steele.”
