“Good that the duke is here,” Albina spoke up. “Perhaps he can talk some sense into you.”
Simon walked over to them, his figure authoritative and unyielding.
“Lady Albina,” Simon addressed the countess. “I believe my wife has asked you to leave.”
Albina bristled at the implication, her confidence faltering slightly. “Your Grace, I was only trying to help Harriet. She’s clearly overwhelmed and in need of assistance.”
Simon’s gaze was unwavering as he spoke. “Be that as it may, Lady Albina, you are overstepping your boundaries. Harriet has made it clear that your presence here is unwelcome. Entering this house against her wishes is, in essence, trespassing.”
“Trespassing?” she repeated, baffled. “Why — never in my life have I…”
Simon held up a hand, silencing her objections. “I assure you, I will ensure that my wife has everything she needs,” he continued, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Your concern is noted, but I must ask you to respect Harriet’s wishes and stay out of this.”
Albina hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as she searched for a retort. But Simon’s steady gaze and firm stance left no room for negotiation.
“Mother, it would really be for the best if you listen to the duke…”
“Very well, Your Grace,” Albina said, her voice barely concealing her displeasure. “I shall take my leave.”
Albina exited the estate with a huff, leaving Harriet with a bad taste in her mouth and feeling embarrassed.
She felt grateful to the duke for intervening, but once again, mortified that he had to. It seemed that whenever her mother was concerned, there was some drama attached.
What sort of impression was that to cast on the duke? Not a great one, that was for certain.
Simon turned to Harriet, his expression softening as he addressed her. “Harriet, would you accompany me, please?”
Harriet nodded, and followed him out to one of the room where they had privacy.
She turned to Simon, her voice tinged with both relief and guilt. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”
“I am sure you had reason enough,” he replied, his face betraying no emotion as expected.
Harriet sighed, her shoulders slumping as the weight of the encounter settled over her. “It’s just... she never listens. She always thinks she knows best, regardless of what I want.”
“I could see that,” he nodded, rubbing the side of his head, “Your mother has a knack for meddling — that much seems consistent. But what I do not understand is your behavior.”
“My behavior?” Harriet asked, confused. “Well, I know I should not have raised my voice but?—”
“That is not what I mean,” the duke interrupted her, “Did you forget that this is your house?”
Harriet shot him a look, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I didn’t forget, Simon. I simply chose not to make a scene.”
Simon chuckled, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “A scene was unavoidable with your mother involved. But you should have sent her away sooner, without needing my intervention.”
Harriet felt a bit taken aback with his reaction. Did he really expect her to bicker with her mother? That too, in front of him?
“I did not wish for it to escalate to the level that it did. In fact, I did not even know that she was due to visit. She did whatever she did on her own accord.”
“Unexpected, yes,” he frowned. “But why must you entertain her if that is not something you wish to do?”
Harriet blinked once. “Simon, she is my mother.”
“And you are the Duchess of Atherton,” he reminded sharply. “I would suggest that you conduct your behavior like one. No one should dare to disobey you in this house.”
He was not speaking softly to her anymore — all traces of tenderness had vanished from his tone it seemed, and had been replaced by that commanding voice that she detested.
She opened her mouth to argue, but just then, little Catherine begun to cry again.
