Simon raised an eyebrow, oblivious to why Harriet’s cheeks were suddenly heating up.
“Go on then. Tell me what it is.”
“Well…” Harriet twisted the hem of her sleeve between her fingers, “I have to admit to you that I am not sure of how this is meant to be done.”
This was not the first time that Harriet had caught Simon completely off guard.
And he had a gut-feeling that it certainly would not be the last.
As the two of them stood in the nursery, Simon stared back at her, blinking a couple of times. He was taken aback by the directness of her request.
“I beg your pardon?”
Harriet’s cheeks flushed, “Why, yes. It is a pertinent question, is it not?” he could hear the strain in her voice.
It was then that he realized that she actually did not know what she was talking about. Nor did she know how blunt of a question this was.
The fact alone both astounded him, and chipped away at his cold heart.
It was….endearing,if not painfully awkward to be on the receiving end of such a question.
“Harriet,” he cleared his throat, “Has your mother never told you?”
Harriet shook her head. “Well, perhaps my mother never thought it important.”
“And your sisters?” Her words seemed more and more unbelievable by the second, but her face did not betray any signs of insincerity.
Shereallydid not know.
“My sisters never told me how they had their children. They thought it best for me to… experience it with my husband first.”
Her words elicited a strange reaction out of him — one that he had not been expecting in the slightest. Slowly, he crossed his legs in front of her.
“I see.”
“So, then? Will you tell me or not?” Harriet demanded.
“Harriet,” Simon’s words were suddenly coming out strained. “I believe it would be better if I… show you instead.”
Harriet opened her mouth to respond — and Simon was very aware suddenly of the way that she licked her top lip before speaking — but before any words could come out, they were interrupted with a knock on the door.
A maid entered, her expression apologetic as she curtsied quickly. “Forgive the interruption, Your Grace, but there is a visitor downstairs. A woman — she says it’s urgent.”
Harriet frowned, “A visitor? Has she given a name?”
The maid nodded. “She says that she is here to speak to you about little Catherine. Her name is Emma Spencer.”
CHAPTER 26
Emma Spencer. Emma Spencer? Emma Spencer!
It took Harriet a moment to put the name to a story, but then was reminded of a time that now seemed long gone.
“Emma Spencer?” she repeatedly, barely able to conceal the shock in her voice.
“Is she one of your acquaintances?” Simon asked, his gaze darting between Harriet and the maid.
Harriet pressed her lips together. Was she an acquaintance? No. In fact, Harriet had never even met the woman. But she had certainly heard about her from the ton.
