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“Is it so shocking?” Marion laughed, her smile radiant for a moment as she tossed her dark hair around her face. “So shocking that a governess of a certain age might struggle to find a husband?”
Simon frowned. When he considered her words he couldn’t deny the sense in them—of course, it was very normal for governesses to be unmarried their whole lives long—but when he applied that idea to the mesmerising woman beside him, they made no sense at all.
“I … I do find it shocking,” he said slowly. He saw the way her eyebrows lifted at his words, the way the laughter died on her lips. He worried that he had said too much, so he tried to amend it. “But of course… I know very little about marriage these days.”
“How long were you married?” Marion asked, tilting her head to one side inquiringly.
“The Countess and I were married for three years,” Simon answered. He didn’t know how they had come back around to the subject of his wife, but here they were again, and he felt the same pang of anxiety when talking about the wife he had lost.
“You were lucky,” Marion said, softly. “To find the woman of your dreams.”
“I was.”
Simon was, again, struck by the frankness of her words. There was something about this woman. She had a way of saying things that caught him completely off guard, and he felt his emotions responding. He blinked back tears for a moment, staring at the stars and trying not to think about how everything would be different if Stella had lived.
“What are you looking at?” Marion asked softly.
Simon turned to her and realised she was watching him, her head turned towards him, level with his own and staring at him with those large, dark eyes that were like whirlpools. He swallowed hard.
“I - I was looking at the stars,” he confessed, pointing upwards as if to validate himself.
“Oh?” She tilted her head back, searching the skies. “Which ones?”
“I - uh - I was - was looking for Mars,” he stuttered, unable to take his eyes off the creamy slope of her bosom.
“Ah, the god of war.” Marion nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should be looking for Venus instead, My Lord, the goddess of love.”
“Excuse me?” Simon was surprised by her forwardness. It was unlike her, since she was often so aloof, but her eyes were oddly glazed. Simon couldn’t think what might be causing it.
“Do you not plan to marry again?” Marion asked, staring at him directly. “To Lady Henrietta?”
“I - um - I…,” Simon blustered, not knowing what to say or how to respond. He felt this was quite out of character for a lady like Marion, and then suddenly her eyes widened, as if she had realised what she said.
“I - I’m so sorry, My Lord!” Marion quickly hid her face in both her hands, shaking her head. “I - I sincerely apologise. That was most rude and forward of me. I I - this is my first ball and I – I…,”
Simon suddenly understood her distracted, forward attitude, her swaying movement and glazed eyes. She had clearly underestimated the strength of the fortified wine served at this type of event. He tried to stop himself smiling, because he found it almost comical that a woman who was generally quite restrained had committed such a normal blunder for a young society girl.
“It is quite alright, Miss Laurie,” he said gently. “But I have to ask, might it be possible that you have perhaps, maybe, had a little too much wine this evening?”
“No!”
She flushed from the neckline of her gown all the way up to her eyebrows, sucking her lips together and for a moment looking endearingly youthful. But then she seemed to recover and try to restore some of her dignity by saying politely, “I - I am simply unused to imbibing without the accompaniment of a good dinner. But I am, of course, far from my limit.” She sat up primly on the wall and looked at him sternly. “The very suggestion!”
“Oh, really?” He tilted his head, raising his eyebrows enquiringly. He was finding he very much enjoyed teasing this lady. “So it is completely normal for you to ask a gentleman if he is to be married, outright?”
She dipped her head shamefully, a piece of dark hair falling in front of her face. Simon wondered what it would feel like to push that piece of hair behind her ear.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered. “Please forgive me, my Lord. I - I had absolutely no right to ask you that.”
He could see her eyes were closed tightly, as if she was bracing herself for his anger. He felt ashamed of himself for teasing her now. He sighed heavily. She was right, technically she had no permission to ask him such a personal question, but he was not angry at her for it. He didn’t want her to feel like he was using his status to belittle her; that was the kind of thing Lady Henrietta might do.
“I have no plans to be married.” He turned around so they were both facing in the direction of the ballroom, watching the bright lights and the swirling couples moving inside. She said nothing, her eyes remained tightly closed, but he saw her shoulders relax. She was clearly grateful he was not displaying outrage at her misstep. Simon was encouraged to continue.
“Least of all to marry Lady Henrietta,” he said, folding his arms and shaking his head. “She…does not suit me.”
“From what I understand, she does not suit a lot of people,” Marion whispered.
Simon nodded, smiling. “Nathan is not enamoured of her.”
