“Then, you must have also seen many different marriages.”
If Agnes was surprised by the her question, then she did not let it show. Instead, she simply nodded.
“Can you tell me,” Harriet’s nails scraped the inside of her palm; her anxiety was palpable. “What is anormalmarriage meant to look like?”
Agnes smiled, “Your Grace, I would answer that question but I believe there is no answer to it. At least not an answer I can provide you in earnest.”
Harriet leaned forward, her eyes widening. “Whatever do you mean? Surely, there is anormalstandard. My mother always maintained so.”
“Perhaps that was her experience,” Agnes smiled. “But from what I have observed, everyone’s marriage seems to be different. I do not think it is my place to judge.”
“But surely you must have some… metric?” Harriet asked, feeling like a child pestering their tutor. “Some that you can gauge.”
“Your Grace, all I can tell you is that there is no real measure of what is normal. Individually, all of us have different needs. Society expects the husband to provide for the wife, and the wife is expected to bear a child. If society were to be the judge, then I would say that is the metric for normality.”
Harriet chewed over her words inside her head for a moment.
Provides for her? Yes, that applied.
Expectation to bear a child? If I agree to his offer, then that too would apply.
So, was their marriage not as abnormal as she thought? Could it be possible that some people were in worse-off situations than her? Did she really only need to learn a touch more gratitude?
“I hope that satisfies your query, Your Grace,” Agnes spoke again when Harriet had been silent for a while, too lost in her thoughts.
“Yes, yes. This is… helpful to me,” Harriet nodded. “Thank you, Agnes. I did not want to bother you as you worked.”
Agnes flashed Harriet a genuine smile. “There is no need to worry, Your Grace. You may request my assistance at whatever time you choose.”
Harriet nodded, and then dismissed her. She thought to herself that she had to make a decision and that it would be better if she did so sooner rather than later.
The opportunity seemed to arise as early as the next morning. It was a quiet morning.
Harriet was in the nursery bathing Catherine when she heard the door open behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Simon; his presence filled the room in a way that made her acutely aware of him, even when he was silent.
“Good morning,” she acknowledged. She did not want to ignore him forever, even though her instinctive reaction was to do just that. “Have you come to ask why I did not show up to breakfast once again this morning?”
He passed her a sheepish smile, “I do not believe there is any need for me to ask. You seem quite… occupied, as is,” he gestured to her holding Catherine. “Would you like some help?”
Harriet blinked, her hands pausing as she glanced up at him. Help? Simon had never offered to help with the baby before. The request took her by surprise, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to respond.
After a moment, she nodded, stepping aside to let him closer. “All right.”
“Excellent,” Simon stepped closer, and rolled up his sleeves before crouching over slightly so that he was at their level. “Shall I?”
Harriet nodded, passing Catherine to Simon. He took her, keeping a gentle but firm grip on her. Then, he tested the temperature of the water with his elbow. “Seems about just right.”
Harriet could not tear her gaze away. His large hands, so capable of commanding respect and authority, cradled Cathy with surprising tenderness.
She felt the same pang as she did when she had seen him helping Tobias when it came to holding Cathy.
It stirred something deep inside of her.
When Cathy was finally dressed in a fresh gown, Harriet wrapped her in a soft towel, holding her close. The baby cooed contentedly, her tiny hands reaching out to touch Harriet’s face.
CHAPTER 25
Harriet felt the tension between them shift. She knew why Simon had come — knew what he would ask. She steeled herself for the inevitable question.
