Simon

Simon regretted agreeing to meet with Everett’s solicitor that morning. When they’d made the appointment, it seemed it would be convenient since Twickenham was closer to South London than his home in St. Albans, and they’d be there for the Full Moon Ball and a house party, anyway.

He’d much rather spend the day with Cora, but he hadn’t seen her—or any women, for that matter. With the ball this evening, most of the women would sequester themselves in their rooms, doing whatever it was that took hours of primping before this evening.

He doubted very much that Cora would be so engaged. She was beautiful with little effort. He had proof. He’d seen her at her worst, drenched from her swim in a lake. Her blonde hair that had escaped the pins hung in natural curls around her face. Her eyes were bright with concern even as she soothed the man’s frightened horse. Enchanting.

His mind often lapsed back to the recital the previous night. Unfortunately, that would not be the entertainment planned tonight. Still, dancing with her, feeling her in his arms, was enticing as well. He would choose his two dances carefully.

Simon took a breath. There was much to appreciate about Cora. He would love nothing more than to spend the rest of his life doing just that.

As he rose from breaking his fast, the footman approached with two letters on a silver salver, the first bearing Simon’s formal address, The Most Noble Duke of Hertfordshire. He recognized the paper and the hand, guessing it would contain the monthly report he expected about one of his ventures. The second letter was neatly addressed simply to Hertfordshire. Who was familiar enough with him to address him as Hertfordshire but would also need to write to him? The scent of jasmine was faint but present. That was inclined to cause gossip—no doubt the footman had noticed as well. Simon fought the urge to wrinkle his nose at the offending letter and the unwelcomed attention it brought and walked to his room.

The letter was likely from a woman. But not Cora. He would have recognized her writing immediately. A smile quirked Simon’s cheeks. Maybe Cora’s only shortcoming was her penmanship. He had to admit that it had been steadily improving, but it still had occasional smudges and overly thick lines. Her governess must not have used a ruler to motivate her the way his teachers had. Additionally, Cora never would have sent a note through formal delivery instead of using Everett as they had been.

He separated the wafer seal from the paper and unfolded the letter, quickly scanning its contents. Lady Atkins was inviting him to a house party, “a small affair” as she put it. He would avoid any event that included both her name and the word “affair” at all costs. It bothered him that his mother and sisters thrust the woman into his company as often as they could. He wasn’t going to encourage that by accepting this invitation.

He opened the second letter and sat at the small desk in the corner of his room. He’d established a school near his home in Hertfordshire for children who were shunned by society and abandoned by their families. The school was private, remote, and protected from society’s knowledge and judgment. He funded it completely on a property that he acquired as part of the ducal estate, but the old church had been left to ruins decades before. Housing wings and workrooms were being added, and the existing walls were being shored up.

He felt a particular kinship to the students, as all were deaf. It had taken some time to make it habitable, and then for his employees to comb the orphanages in nearby counties and have the children transported to his school, but for the past half year, there had been fourteen students learning trades they could employ to support themselves in the future.

The headmaster’s report updated him on repairs made and other expenses. All seemed in order. He wondered what Cora would think of the little school.

Simon thought she might be surprised. He was sure she would be pleased. In fact, he thought she might even share ideas for its functioning since she had experience with a school such as this. That was it. He’d invite her to his home.

Admitting it might be just an excuse to spend more time with her, he decided to move ahead with the plan. He’d organize a small stag hunt with Everett, Saalfeld, and himself, and the women who interested each of them. Lord and Lady Cottrell would also be invited, as would Lord and Lady Radnor. Three days of hunting and a week of socializing. He pulled out a sheet of paper and penned instructions to his housekeeper. She would be able to start making the necessary arrangements ahead of his return next week. He penned a personal note of invitation to his proposed guests and sealed each one.

After he delivered them to the butler to arrange delivery, he left with Everett to go to the solicitor’s office. Any other day, the journey of more than two hours into the heart of London, the time spent in the meeting, then back out again wouldn’t seem a burden. He’d right enjoy the ride and the company. Not today. They should have arranged for the man to come to them.

The meeting went as planned. They were narrowing down their choices of investments to steel, railroads, or shipping interests. Simon considered the potential of each market and listed the advantages and risks of each venture. Since becoming Hertfordshire, the weight of caring for so many people pressed heavily on him—especially the responsibility he felt toward his sisters. This investment included funds from the estate and money he had set aside from before he became duke. That would secure his sisters’ independence—not in an extravagant way, but it would allow them choice.

Aunt Nellie’s house was only half an hour away when Everett abruptly broke into Simon’s thoughts and changed the subject.

“I’m going to do it. I’m going to talk with Lucy’s father.”

Simon heard the resolve and the apology in his friend’s voice. “I wish you the best. She’s a fine woman. She might even deserve better.”

Everett’s smile flashed widely. “Oh, she does. That’s why I need to ask before she figures that out.”

“Her father might refuse your suit simply because you’ve waited much too long. His butler is quite the bruiser.”

“You’re full of optimism, you jackanapes. If I wasn’t nervous before, now I have to consider if he’ll throw me from the house before I can offer for her.”

Simon laughed but cleared his throat and added, “You’ve saved me, you know. I wouldn’t have been able to enter society without your help.”

“I’m not getting married right away. I’ll still be around to help.”

Everett’s voice betrayed his lack of enthusiasm to wait, and Simon answered, “Less, I hope. And you needn’t keep Lucy waiting—I’ll be fine. Get married and refill that children’s wing with rowdy boys and girls.”

Everett laughed deeply. “Likely, you’ll be married yourself soon enough.”

They rode the remainder of the journey in silence—each consumed by their thoughts of the future. Simon knew getting married wasn’t a challenge for him, should he desire it. There had been plenty of mothers volunteering their daughters for the position. But when he thought of a hypothetical wife, Cora’s face filled his imagination, leaving no room for other choices.

Marrying for love—it frightened him. It wasn’t what his family did. They had married for connections or money or prestige, even just to comply with an arrangement made when they were babies. His own parents were tolerant, if not always respectful, of each other.

He wanted to give and receive the better part of life. Respect, yes. Tolerance when needed. But more than that—awe, humor, intelligent discussion, passion, and if heaven were willing to so bless their union, the shared love of their children—all that marriage and family could have to offer. His heart burned for it, and he saw its possibility in Cora’s eyes. He’d certainly never thought he’d love his wife, and yet, here she was. He would love her with every walk through a garden, dance at a ball, or quiet evening by a winter’s fire. He would love her with gentle words and soft touches. He would love Cora with all his heart.

If she would let him.