Chapter 20 #4
“But as you’ve said before, money is only one piece of a larger puzzle in matrimony.”
“One piece for most marriages.”
The implication cut.
“But you are not at liberty to follow your heart so easily.” Aunt Agatha searched his face with a calculating look. “Your
responsibilities—”
“I take my responsibilities very seriously.” Simon’s tone was firm. “Not only have I increased financial gains for Ravenscross
in a short period of time, but my business ventures are showing steady growth. If given enough time, I could make Ravenscross
independent of your support. As is right. I just need time.”
Her silence seemed to halt the words she might have spoken, her lips pressed into a thin line. He continued, his voice soft
but determined. “Money nor status brought my parents the satisfaction of a happy marriage, Aunt. I want more than that. I
think Ravenscross needs more than that, and I am willing to work as hard as necessary in order to achieve that future with
the right bride by my side.”
“And reputation? Your father maligned this legacy long before your cousin’s indiscretions came to light. Miss Lockhart’s influence
is rather small in the larger pool of the social world.” She narrowed her eyes and then sighed. “I do not doubt her character,
Simon, except perhaps when it comes to you.”
He opened his mouth to defend Emme, but Aunt Agatha raised a palm to stop him, her smile flickering on one corner. “No doubt
your charms overcame her, I am sure. But the gossips are still quite attached to your pairing, in part, due to some mild indiscretions
and clear partiality that you have for her.”
“I’m not ashamed of being partial to her.” He sat straighter in his chair. “I am partial to her. Utterly.”
Her hesitation threatened his confidence a little, but he rallied internally to plead his cause. He’d not give up so easily.
This was the right choice.
“There is a great deal to overcome, as you well know, and I would prefer you choose a woman whose reputation was not only
impeccable, but whose influence spanned a wider berth.”
“The influence that matters most is the one that happens inside these walls. Because that effect will carry beyond Ravenscross to impact years in the future.” Simon held her gaze.
“And if I had the time and freedom to choose anyone in the world to influence the people who matter to me most within these walls, it would be her.”
She stared at him, her hands folded in her lap and posture impeccable, and then without answering, she stood. Simon followed,
readying to confirm her approval when her attention fell to the desk. There, nestled against the corner, was Sense and Sensibility, just where he had left it.
“You’re reading this?” She tapped the cover with her finger and looked over at him. “Surprising.”
“It was a recommendation from a trusted source.”
“Hmm . . .” She took the book in hand and flipped through the pages. “What on earth would propel a lady to risk her reputation
in order to become a novelist? Such a dangerous undertaking in our world of social expectations.”
Strange, but Simon found himself defending the author. “Perhaps there was nothing else for it. She had a story to tell, and
it must be told.”
“Well, at least the woman had the foresight to remain anonymous. For her family’s sake, if nothing else. Novelists—especially
among the gentry—are rarely seen in a favorable light. All those absurd tales of pirates and . . . undead.” She shuddered
slightly.
“I think, Aunt Agatha”—Simon drew in a breath—“you’d actually enjoy this one. It’s a look at regular life among the gentry.
No pirates in sight. And you’d appreciate the humor, I think.”
“Humor?” She glanced back at the book and, for the briefest moment, hesitated before placing it gently back on the desk. Simon
noted the subtle shift, a quiet indication that his words had stirred her curiosity.
“You might find it surprisingly refreshing. Perhaps I can finish it tonight and you can take it with you when you leave tomorrow.”
Aunt Agatha said nothing, but the silence between them felt like approval.
“Mrs. Patterson told me that she has never had a master show such gratitude to her as you have.” Her lips offered the smallest
smile but enough to gentle her entire countenance.
Mrs. Patterson had said that? Simon blinked in surprise. He had thought he’d nearly frightened the woman away with his clumsy
attempts at kindness.
“That is a sign of good character, Simon. An example of not only who you are at heart but of who you’ve become. The right
woman will make you even better.”
“Then trust me to know who that right woman is.”
Aunt Agatha regarded him for a long moment before she tipped her head, a whisper of a smile in place. “There is nothing wrong
with a good, honest country gentleman’s daughter.”
Simon’s heart gave a lurch. Did she mean . . . ?
“But if you make that choice,” she added, her tone becoming more serious, “you both must also accept the consequences that
come with it, great and small.” She moved toward the door. “You both will have an uphill battle before you, in reputation
and finances.”
“I understand and I’ve weighed those choices.” He stepped with her toward the door, wavering on asking the next question,
but he had to confirm. “And your allowance?”
She stopped and turned back to him. “You’ve chosen a governess and evidently a bride.” She peaked a brow. “As long as you
remain free of scandal, then you will have it. Good night, Simon.”
Her words, though reluctantly spoken, carried the weight of her blessing. With a soft nod, she stepped into the hallway and
the door closed behind her with a quiet finality.
Simon stood there for a moment, taking in the unexpected turn of events. The door had barely clicked shut when he stumbled back into his office, his breath escaping in a soft laugh. Then he collapsed back into his desk chair and raised his gaze to the heavens, his heart full, his hopes even fuller.
Tomorrow night at the ball, no matter what it took, he was going to ask Emmeline Lockhart to be his bride.