“As you wish, Your Grace,” the maid nodded. “You look quite lovely as it is. I cannot fathom any room for improvement.”
Harriet blinked, ignoring the compliment. She rarely knew what to say whenever people made comments on her appearance — she would much rather be appreciated for her wits, or charm.
But even so, a small part of her yearned to hear these things from the duke. Was that not something a husband was supposed to do for his wife? Their marriage had been so strange — so unlikethe ones she had seen around her — that they had never had a period of courtship where he tried to win her over by showering her with compliments.
“Can you see if little Catherine is awake?” Harriet opted to instead change the subject. “If she is, please bring her down to the staircase.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” the maid exited the room swiftly.
Behind her, the clock finally struck the fifth hour and Harriet knew that it was time to go. She took a deep breath, composing herself.
All will be well. Just be confident, as you usually are.
When Harriet reached the bottom of the stairs, little Catherine and the duke were already waiting for her there. She promptly took the baby from the maid’s arms, and greeted the duke.
“Your G— Simon,” she corrected herself for the umpteenth time. Somehow, she always forgot to use his first name.
“Harriet,” his eyes raked over her figure for a moment, but quickly returned to her face. “Shall we proceed?”
Harriet nodded, holding little Catherine a little tighter. “I must say that it is great that you decided to come on time.”
“If you knew me, you would know that I am a man of my word, and have never had a tardy to my name,” he nodded as they made their way outside the doors of the estate and towards the gardens.
“That is precisely the problem,” Harriet shrugged, “that I do not know you at all.”
She could feel Simon stiffen slightly, but whatever discomfort he felt, he quickly seemed to shrug it off. “I am not sure why you are so determined to.”
Harriet felt annoyance grow inside of her. She held out her free hand in front of him, and flashed the wedding ring. “You are right. I am not sure why I would even think such a thing.”
That seemed to get a chuckle out of the duke, only adding more fuel to her annoyance.
Funny? He thinks this is funny?
“Pardon me, but I cannot fathom what you find so humorous about this situation,” she quipped.
Instead of answering, he reached out and grabbed her hand, examining her ring up close. She nearly lost her balance in the process.
“Quite intricate work,” he said, nodding at the jewel. “I should pay my respects to the jeweler.”
She retracted her hand with a huff, “Why must you act as though this is the first time that you are seeing it? Surely, you had some involvement in picking a ring for your bride.”
Simon gave her a sly smile. “Do you think?”
“I shall hope,” she pressed. “Though, it seems to be in vain. All indicators point to the fact that you did not.”
“You are quite an intelligent women,” he nodded, laughing. “But it is nothing to be offended by. I know this is something you forget often, but Iama duke, and therefore a fairly busy man. Sometimes, it is easier to delegate tasks to others.”
She glanced down at her ring again, and composed herself.
Surely, she should not get so mad about this. It was a trivial detail, anyway. And surely overshadowed by his abandonment in the first year of their marriage.
Perhaps Simon had been waiting for her to hit back with some kind of a reply, but when she did not, he broke the silence.
“Tell me, duchess. You claimed that this promenade was meant to be a chance to bond with the child. However, I do not think we have made any progress on that front…”
She sighed, bringing her attention back to little Catherine, who was now placed in a little perambulator and was enjoying the ride.
“She seems at peace outside,” Harriet’s voice softened at the admission. “Perhaps we should do this often.”
