Page 8 of Sense and Suitability
Ben’s horror must have worn off because he chuckled... fueling Simon’s growing headache.
“I believe Miss Sophia knows exactly where her sister went and is disinclined to share the information, my lord.”
Simon’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Is she?” He eyed the overgrown garden, already suspecting the answer.
“But you have a way with her, sir.” Mrs. Patterson’s voice gentled. “She wants to please you.”
The statement warmed a knotted spot in Simon’s chest. Could he have some good influence on these children yet? It wasn’t too late to redirect whatever path they currently were careening down, was it?
He gave Mrs. Patterson a grateful nod and strode into the garden, a tangled expanse of greenery that once flourished under his mother’sloving care. The scene was too much like his own life at the moment to linger on the view.
As Simon reached the nearest bend in the garden path, his gaze fell upon the central fountain, a pair of stone swans poised in eternal embrace. Beyond it, a familiar cascade of wild curls peeked out from behind a cluster of flowering shrubs. Fair hair. Sophia was the only child with such a hue, so like their mother’s.
A sudden pang tightened his chest. Grief had an uncanny way of rising at the most inconvenient moments. He refused to succumb to the pull and stepped toward the shrubs. “Fia?” His tone of voice wasn’t as gentle as he’d hoped, so he tried again. “Fia, love?”
Perhaps adding the “love” helped a little. Mother always seemed to respond with a smile on the rare occasions Father used it.
Rounding the fountain, Simon found the five-year-old crouched beside the stream, a wriggling frog clutched triumphantly in one mud-streaked hand while the other absently patted Dodger, the ever-loyal hound. Fia had practically lived outside all summer, and even as the season waned, his fairy-sister kept to her routine of earth and sky. Her focus remained fixed on the frog as though the rest of the world had simply melted away.
“Fia,” he repeated, and this time she looked up at him, her round face lighting with a toothless grin.
Variations of plant life stuck from the little girl’s curls, giving off the appearance of Medusa’s snakes. Mud smudged her cheeks, her neck, and the once-white pinafore over her dress.
Perhaps William’s look of terror was founded, especially with such sisters.
In fact, the longer Simon lived, the more terrifying women became.
“Simon, I found diamonds.” The sweet voice doused some of his ire—the toothless grin probably helped too. “Come see.”
The exasperation knotting his chest unraveled slightly. Hecounted to ten in the steps it took to make it to her side. How could he blame her? She barely remembered their parents, so the fault for her behavior lay completely on his shoulders.
He was beginning to think his shoulders were not so broad after all.
He knelt beside her. “Show me, lamb.”
The endearment somehow had her edging nearer, or perhaps it was the fact she wanted him there. Close?
“Do you see?” She pointed eagerly to a cluster of quartz glinting beneath the water’s surface. “Aren’t they lovely?”
“They are quite lovely.”
“Do you think they can help us pay for the blasted repairs?” She blinked those piercing brown eyes up at him.
The mixture of her repeating his “blasted repairs” sentiment paired with the desire to find a way to help mend their home took all words from his mind. In fact, his throat closed with more emotion than he cared to contemplate.
He lowered his head and swallowed—gathering himself—and then gentled a palm against her shoulder while ignoring the frog, which appeared to be wrestling for its life. “You are so kind and clever, but I’m afraid these particular types of diamonds will not be able to help us.”
A frown pulled at her bottom lip.
“But,” he added quickly, somehow finding his smile, “they’d make a fine addition to the library table. What do you say I help you collect them after we’ve found Charlotte?”
Her eyes brightened. “You would help me?”
His mind reared against the request. He didn’t have time. Not with all he needed to do, but the hope in her eyes proved his undoing. “Yes, but only after we find your sister.”
Sigh.Yet another sister to find.
She rewarded him with a double-dimpled grin. “She went that way on her pony.” Fia pointed toward the north fields. “But the pony wasn’t behaving, so she was fussing at him. Blasted ponies!”
