Simon pulled back abruptly, breaking the spell. He turned away from her.
“Goodnight, Harriet.”
Without waiting for her response, Simon opened the door to his study and stepped inside, closing it firmly behind him.
He leaned against the door for a moment, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm his racing heart. What had just happened? Why had he reacted that way?
Simon moved to his desk, attempting to focus on the papers laying there — anything else than what had just transpired — but his thoughts were scattered, his mind refusing to settle.
Every time he tried to concentrate, his thoughts kept drifting back to Harriet, to the way she had looked at him, the warmth in her eyes, the softness in her voice.
Deciding that it was futile, Simon instead poured himself a glass of brandy, hoping the drink would help steady his nerves. He sat down behind his desk, staring at the glass as if it held the answers to the questions swirling in his mind.
What was happening to him? Why was he reacting this way to Harriet?
They had started as strangers, forced into marriage by circumstances beyond their control, and yet… there was something about her, something that was drawing him in despite his best efforts to maintain his distance.
And then there was Cathy. Holding the baby had awakened something in him, a feeling he couldn’t quite name but one that left him feeling unsettled. He had never considered himself the paternal type, had never imagined himself as a father. And yet, in that quiet moment with Cathy, he had felt a connection — a strange, unexpected bond that he didn’t know how to process.
Simon took a sip of the brandy, the warmth of the liquor doing little to ease the tension in his chest.
Simon had married Harriet out of duty, but now, things were becoming more complicated, more personal. The feelings that were developing for her — feelings he had been trying to ignore — were becoming harder to deny.
Simon leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of it all. He had always prided himself on his ability to control his emotions, to remain detached and objective in all things. But now, with Harriet and Cathy in his life, he felt that control slipping away, leaving him vulnerable in a way he had never experienced before.
He closed his eyes, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on him.
He needed to ensure that his brother gave him answers as soon as possible so that Simon could leave the estate, and return to his uncomplicated life.
Because one thing was for certain, the longer he stayed here, the harder it was going to be leave.
Harriet stood outside the study door, her hand hovering over the doorknob as she contemplated following Simon inside.
That there was some tension between them was undeniable. Part of her wanted to confront it, to understand what was happening between them. But another part of her hesitated, unsure if she was ready to face the full implications of what she was feeling.
What would you even say to him?Doubts began to fray at her resolve.
The duke, she was quickly discovering, was a complex individual. Each day that she spent with him, she discovered something new about him — adding to the ever expanding tapestry of the man she knew him to be.
Harriet had always prided herself on her ability to read people. But in this situation, she felt stumped. On one hand, the duke was a stoic man who only married her out of duty. On the other, he was a man with a soft heart and a tough exterior.
It both fascinated and frustrated her that she was not able to get to know himfullyand completely. In a way that a wife usually ought.
After a moment of indecision, Harriet sighed softly and turned away, deciding to return to her room. Her curiosity would have to wait another day.
It was disconcerting, but also intriguing. Harriet found herself wanting to know more, to understand this side of Simon that he seemed so determined to hide.
When she reached her room, Harriet paused in the doorway of the nursey, her eyes falling on the cradle where Cathy slept peacefully.
She felt a rush of affection for the baby, but also a pang of uncertainty. The more time she spent with Cathy, the more attached she became, and yet there were so many unanswered questions, so many uncertainties.
Could Cathy really be Simon’s child?
That had been her initial assumption, of course. But later, she had abandoned the idea. But today after seeing Simon with Cathy — how naturally his paternal side had come to him — she began to ponder again if this could be the case.
After tonight, the question seemed more pressing than ever.
Harriet moved to the cradle and gently touched Cathy’s cheek, watching as the baby shifted slightly in her sleep.
