Delphine came to a stop on the path and turned to face him. “You had no right to speak to Mr. Hawthorn,” she declared. “He ismyman of business, not yours.”
Mr. Simpkin had the decency to look ashamed. “I upset you,” he said. “That was not my intention.”
“Then what was?” she demanded.
“I wanted to assure you that your estate and business were in good hands while you resided at Brockhall Manor,” Mr. Simpkin said. “I imagine that it has been weighing heavily on your mind.”
Delphine reluctantly admitted that he did have a point. “I suppose it has been.”
His eyes crinkled around the edges. “You and I are very similar in that regard. We value duty above all else.”
“I do,” she sighed. “I suppose I should thank you for making inquiries, but it was wholly unnecessary.”
“You and I are a team now,” Mr. Simpkin said.
Delphine stiffened. She didn’t take issue with Mr. Simpkin as a person, but she didn’t want to remain married to him. There was no team, at least in her mind. She could handle whatever came her way, and she didn’t need his help. Quite frankly, she didn’twanthis help.
Mr. Simpkin gestured towards a bench that was further down the path. “Would you care to sit?”
“Yes, thank you,” Delphine replied before she walked over to the bench.
As she settled in, Mr. Simpkin took a seat beside her, leaving little space between them. Discomfort prickled within her. This proximity was unsettling, unlike the reassuring warmth she felt in Bennett’s presence.
Fortunately, her unease was short-lived as Matilda approached, her hooves clacking on the gravel path.
Mr. Simpkin regarded the goat with curiosity. “What is that goat doing here?”
“Matilda has claimed this bench as her own,” Delphine informed him. “It might be best if you move over to make room for her. If not, she will just sit on your lap.”
“You are going to let a goat dictate your actions?” Mr. Simpkin asked in an appalled voice.
“Matilda tends to do as she pleases,” Delphine said. “It is best if you just accept that fact and move on.”
Mr. Simpkin looked displeased by her remark but he shifted on the bench to allow more space between them.
Matilda jumped up onto the bench and rested her head in Delphine’s lap.
As she began to pet Matilda, Mr. Simpkin said, “I do hope you have more control over your goats.”
“Do you not care for goats, Mr. Simpkin?”
“It is George, if you don’t mind,” he replied. “And no, I do not care for goats. But they serve their purpose.”
Delphine gave him a curious look. “Is there a particular reason why you don’t like goats?”
Mr. Simpkin looked down at Matilda, the disdain evident in his eyes. “I tolerate them, but I do not treat them as pets.”
“That is a shame,” Delphine said. “I had a pet goat when I was younger, and I am still quite fond of her.”
A silence descended over them and Delphine was grateful. She wasn’t quite sure how to start the conversation about voiding their marriage. But she needed to be brave and do so. She refused to stay married to a man that she was only acquainted with.
But as she went to open her mouth, Mr. Simpkin spoke first. “I know you don’t remember marrying me, but I promise to make you happy.”
Delphine’s hand stilled on Matilda, knowing it was the perfect moment to broach the subject. “About that,” she hesitated, “I was wondering, hoping, really, that you would consider speaking to the judge about voiding our marriage.”
Mr. Simpkin stared back at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“We hardly know one another?—”
