Page 84 of A Portrait of Love

Honey had disliked the woman every bit as much.

Dislike? Or was it jealousy, you felt?

She scowled at the thought. I was not jealous.

Simon interrupted her internal feuding. “Your father did not wish to remarry?”

“I don’t know.”

“He didn’t enjoy female company?”

She frowned; just what was he getting at?

“He did,” she admitted, “But he never seemed to come to the sticking point.”

“Why do you suppose that was?”

“I don’t know.”

Simon’s smirk grew and he turned to look out the window.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“Because you are a bad liar Honoria.”

Honey stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He sighed, as if she were a tiresome child refusing to eat her dinner or finish her sums. “He didn’t remarry because of you and you know that. He loved you more than anyone else.”

Guilt flooded her at his words. “What of it? I loved him just as much.”

“I know you did. What did you think of the lovers he took?”

When she didn’t answer, he laughed.

“What?” she demanded rudely.

“You should see your expression.”

“What about it?”

“You were jealous; you disliked those women who came between you.”

“That’s not true,” she retorted.

He just smiled.

She opened her mouth to deny it again, but then stopped.

Why bother lying? It had driven her to distraction when her father’s lovers had invaded their happy life. Even though she’d been young, she’d known that jealousy was an ugly, damaging emotion; she’d tried to hide her feelings, but of course her father knew her better than anyone.

She had always suspected, at the back of her mind, that he had remained unmarried because of Honey.

While she loved him all the more for it, she couldn’t help feeling guilty that she’d deprived him of intimacy. He’d been so young when he died—only forty-five—and her mother had died decades before, leaving him alone to raise their daughter.

Honey had forgotten that unpleasant aspect of her character—her capacity for jealousy. How like her new husband to make her remember it. After all, he was so good at eliciting other unpleasant behaviors.

“I doubt that you kept him from remarrying, Honoria. I imagine his devotion to you irked his lovers and that he saw that,” Simon said. “All those women must have known they would never be first with him. And so it should be.” He smiled at her—this expression pleasant rather than a smirk. “I thought your relationship was marvelous. I remember burning with envy watching the two of you.”