“Harriet said that, too,” he admitted quietly. “I am afraid that both of you do not know what you are talking about.”
“What is the worst that can happen?” Anthony inquired. “What are you that afraid of?”
“You know what my father did — how he let my mother down every chance that he got. I have already done that to Harriet — by leaving her alone, I was letting her down even though I thought it was for the best. But now…”
Anthony urged him to continue.
“Now, I feel as though I might do something worse by staying.”
“Quite the pickle you are in, mate,” Anthony sighed.
“Thank you for noticing,” Simon wanted to roll his eyes. Trust his friend to try and inject humor in places that did not require it.
“From what you’ve told me, it sounds like Harriet isn’t the type of woman to let you get away with anything, even if you tried. She seems to have a good head on her shoulders — and a sharp tongue to boot…”
“She does. She’s… remarkable, really. Strong, independent, far more capable than I gave her credit for,” Simon admitted.
“Then why not trust her?” Anthony suggested, “You’ve married a woman who clearly knows her own mind. Let her make her own decisions about how she feels, and maybe — just maybe — you’ll find that she wants to be with you, not in spite of who you are, but because of it.”
Simon wanted to listen to that advice. But something inside him was holding him back.
“It is not as easy as that.”
“It can be,” Anthony shrugged. “I find that the less you spend time thinking about how awful something can be, the better it is.”
Simon took another sip from his glass.
“Besides… you’ve dealt with far worse than falling in love with your wife,” Anthony chuckled.
“I suppose there are worse things in the world,” Simon closed his eyes.
Once again, he thought back to the kiss. It was… everything that he needed.
And now that he had kissed her, he was not sure how he would ever let himself not do it again.
CHAPTER 22
Tap. Tap. Tap. Scratch. Tap.
Simon sat at slumped over his desk, absently tapping a quill against the edge of a ledger, but his mind was elsewhere.
This morning had got off to a rough start. Fearing that meeting Harriet for breakfast would only worsen the storm raging inside of his heart, he had opted to take his breakfast in the study.
A yawn escaped him, wide and uncontrollable, and he rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, but it did little to chase away the fog that clouded his thoughts.
Of course, how could he have forgotten? He barely got a wink of sleep the night before. The dark circles rimming his eyes, and the frequent yawning was testament to that.
To his chagrin, avoiding Harriet had not seemed to work in the slightest. He kept thinking about her, no matter what he did.
And thinking about their kiss.
His conversation with Anthony the previous evening had provided some clarity, but the weight of his responsibilities — and the complexities of his emotions — still hung heavily over him.
A loud knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, followed by his butler entering, who bowed slightly.
“Your Grace, your brother Lord Tobias is here to see you.”
“Tobias?” Simon looked up from his desk, wrinkling his nose. “Has he brought a woman along with him?”
