“And I brought a special treat,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his dressing gown to retrieve a box wrapped in a ribbon.
Mina straightened, sitting up in bed to stare at the gift and wonder what her husband was up to. Simon pushed aside the breakfast tray so that he might sit beside her as she tugged the ribbon free and pulled open the lid.
“Oh, Simon,” she whispered.
Inside the box rested a hair comb wrought in silver; it was not bedecked with gems or pearls as so many of them often were. The design was simple, naught but a series of filigree orbs running along the spine of the comb. Each one was intricate and unique from the others while still looking as though they all belonged together. It was unlike anything Mina had seen before and absolutely perfect.
“It is gorgeous,” she said, lifting it from the box to run her fingers over the twisted, twine-like prongs and up along the bubbled spine.
“Then you like it?”
There was something in his voice that drew Mina’s attention, and she met his eyes. Simon had a broad smile and happy glint to his eyes, but there was a tightening at the corners of his lips and a subtle tension in his brow. Though Mina could not decipher it, she sensed something was amiss.
“Of course,” she said, reaching over to run a thumb across his cheek. “I adore it.”
Simon placed a kiss on her palm, and whatever Mina had thought she’d seen disappeared. Twisting a handful of her hair, Mina took the comb and slid it into place. It would never hold without hair pins to assist in anchoring her tresses, but she couldn’t wait.
“How does it look?” she said, glancing at the vanity, though it was too far away to get a proper look.
“Positively lovely,” Simon murmured, sitting on the bed beside her.
Mina turned to him, and words flew from her mind at the look on her husband’s face. His gaze perused her face and figure in a manner that made her blush. For all her belief that attraction could grow from friendship, it still astonished Mina to see desire glowing in Simon’s eyes. Three months ago, she had been little more than a chum and partner. Mina Kingsley, his helpmeet. Yet now, he behaved as though she was his Aphrodite.
If she allowed herself to think on it, the change wrought in Simon was rather startling.
Leaning in, Simon whispered, “I love you,” before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.
“It is comforting to know I am not the only one afflicted,” she teased, but Simon did not laugh.
“I do love you,” he insisted, a hint of his previous tension returning, and Mina wished her words unsaid. “I am sorry I was a fool not to see how precious you were from the start, but you mean everything to me—”
“Hush.” Mina pressed a kiss to his lips, silencing any further castigations. When she had him distracted enough, she continued, “You have apologized aplenty, Simon. Mistakes were made, but it does no good to wallow in them.”
Simon nodded, though his eyes held a hint of disbelief that broke her heart. However, there were no more assurances to be made, and time would simply show him the truth. Curling into his embrace, Mina rested her head against his shoulder. Her new comb poked him in the cheek, and Mina leaned back as Simon rubbed at the place with a chuckle. But as she spouted apologies, Simon merely smiled and removed the comb, placing it on the bedside table.
Shifting, Simon moved them to rest against the headboard, and she wrapped an arm around him. It was sad that their morning outing was so often curtailed by the winter weather, but in moments like these, Mina was not terribly upset about it.
“You’re not regretting Finch’s visit, are you?”
Simon’s question had Mina lifting her head to meet his gaze.
“Why would you ask that?”
“I…” His words faltered, and Simon’s gaze drifted away from Mina. “No reason in particular. I simply worry you are unhappy.”
That gave Mina pause. She had thought she hid her feelings better than that. There was something so vexing about Mr. Finch, and Mina did not care for his presence, but she did not wish to chase Simon’s friend away; he enjoyed the fellow’s company for some odd reason.
“…she is too mousy to cause you much bother, too unattractive to have a wandering eye, and so firmly on the shelf that she’d likely accept any offer she got…”Mr. Finch’s words had made an impression on Mina—as well they should. No woman wanted to hear herself described in such a manner, and Mr. Finch’s unfiltered opinion had served as a sound reminder of how the world viewed Mina.
That ball.
All things considered, Mina was grateful for Mr. Finch’s stark assessment: it was the reason Simon first took note of her. Or rather, the embarrassment that she’d overheard Finch’s harsh critique had driven Simon to approach her. Mina had long ago given Simon the forgiveness he’d sought, but to date, Mr. Finch had not acknowledged his part in it, and he’d been the main instigator. Perhaps Mina could overlook it as a bit of brutally honest conversation between gentlemen, but Mr. Finch continued to spout harsh critiques of the ladies around him. His words about Miss Barrows were enough to show that the fellow was callous and prideful.
Mina adored her husband, but he had terrible taste in friends, and she wanted nothing more than to chase away yet another who’d invaded her home. However, Simon was happy his friend was visiting. Mina didn’t know why her husband trusted Mr. Finch’s input on estate matters, but he did. And Mr. Finch wasn’t as terrible as their last visitors; he may be apathetic towards Mina, but he made no move to chase her out of Avebury Park or force a wedge between her and Simon.
A squeeze of her husband’s arms drew Mina from her thoughts.
“Are you unhappy?” he asked.
