Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

H arriet felt a flush of embarrassment at having been overheard, her voice still echoing with the anger she had directed at her mother. She shouldn’t have raised her voice, no matter how justified her feelings were.

“Simon – I…” Harriet flushed, “My mother was just leaving. There is no problem.”

“Good that the duke is here,” Albina spoke up. “Perhaps he can talk some sense into you.”

Simon walked over to them, his figure authoritative and unyielding.

“Lady Albina,” Simon addressed the countess. “I believe my wife has asked you to leave.”

Albina bristled at the implication, her confidence faltering slightly. “Your Grace, I was only trying to help Harriet. She’s clearly overwhelmed and in need of assistance.”

Simon’s gaze was unwavering as he spoke. “Be that as it may, Lady Albina, you are overstepping your boundaries. Harriet has made it clear that your presence here is unwelcome. Entering this house against her wishes is, in essence, trespassing.”

“Trespassing?” she repeated, baffled. “Why — never in my life have I…”

Simon held up a hand, silencing her objections. “I assure you, I will ensure that my wife has everything she needs,” he continued, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Your concern is noted, but I must ask you to respect Harriet’s wishes and stay out of this.”

Albina hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as she searched for a retort. But Simon’s steady gaze and firm stance left no room for negotiation.

“Mother, it would really be for the best if you listen to the duke…”

“Very well, Your Grace,” Albina said, her voice barely concealing her displeasure. “I shall take my leave.”

Albina exited the estate with a huff, leaving Harriet with a bad taste in her mouth and feeling embarrassed.

She felt grateful to the duke for intervening, but once again, mortified that he had to. It seemed that whenever her mother was concerned, there was some drama attached.

What sort of impression was that to cast on the duke? Not a great one, that was for certain.

Simon turned to Harriet, his expression softening as he addressed her. “Harriet, would you accompany me, please?”

Harriet nodded, and followed him out to one of the room where they had privacy.

She turned to Simon, her voice tinged with both relief and guilt. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

“I am sure you had reason enough,” he replied, his face betraying no emotion as expected.

Harriet sighed, her shoulders slumping as the weight of the encounter settled over her. “It’s just... she never listens. She always thinks she knows best, regardless of what I want.”

“I could see that,” he nodded, rubbing the side of his head, “Your mother has a knack for meddling — that much seems consistent. But what I do not understand is your behavior.”

“My behavior?” Harriet asked, confused. “Well, I know I should not have raised my voice but?—”

“That is not what I mean,” the duke interrupted her, “Did you forget that this is your house?”

Harriet shot him a look, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I didn’t forget, Simon. I simply chose not to make a scene.”

Simon chuckled, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “A scene was unavoidable with your mother involved. But you should have sent her away sooner, without needing my intervention.”

Harriet felt a bit taken aback with his reaction. Did he really expect her to bicker with her mother? That too, in front of him?

“I did not wish for it to escalate to the level that it did. In fact, I did not even know that she was due to visit. She did whatever she did on her own accord.”

“Unexpected, yes,” he frowned. “But why must you entertain her if that is not something you wish to do?”

Harriet blinked once. “Simon, she is my mother.”

“And you are the Duchess of Atherton,” he reminded sharply. “I would suggest that you conduct your behavior like one. No one should dare to disobey you in this house.”

He was not speaking softly to her anymore — all traces of tenderness had vanished from his tone it seemed, and had been replaced by that commanding voice that she detested.

She opened her mouth to argue, but just then, little Catherine begun to cry again.

“I..” she mumbled before rushing off to the nursery. Simon followed behind her.

She rushed over to Catherine’s side, and soothed her immediately. Once again, she calmed down in her arms.

“Harriet,” Simon said trailing after her, “I do not appreciate you running off mid-conversation with me like this.”

Harriet shot at him an annoyed look. What did he even want from her?

And then, an idea came to her.

“You said that no one should be disobey me. Correct?” she asked, to which he responded with a weary look. “Very well, then. Here.”

Simon frowned, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Hold the baby,” Harriet said, her voice steady. “That’s an order.”

“An order?” Simon could hardly believe what she was saying. “I did not mean that you’re meant to start ordering me. I am the duke, Harriet. No one tells me to do anything.”

Harriet sighed. Duke. Duchess. That was all he seemed to see, ever.

“It does not matter. The duke himself said a moment ago that no one must disobey me, so you cannot go back on your word,” she said, playing him at his own game. “Now — please — hold her so that I may fetch the maid to prepare a bath for her.”

Simon reluctantly stepped forward, extending his arms to take this little… creature from Harriet’s grasp.

An order. She’s going to order around me now.

The thought irked him to no end, but he had given her his word. He took the baby from Harriet, and she let out a little coo as they changed hands.

Harriet nodded, a satisfied look forming on her face. “Now, that is much better, Your Grace. Please ensure that she does not start to cry again – I shall be with you in a moment.”

With that, she dashed out of the room, leaving Simon alone with the baby. He stood there, holding Catherine with the cautiousness of someone handling fragile glass. The baby squirmed slightly, her eyes meeting his with innocent curiosity.

Simon sighed, shifting his grip and trying to appear more at ease. “Do you even know all the trouble you’ve caused?” he muttered, glancing down. “Harriet is quite protective — to the point of it being infuriating when it comes to you.”

To his surprise, Catherine let out a soft gurgle, followed by a burst of laughter.

What was that about?

Simon narrowed his eyes at the baby, and she did it again.

Cackled in her little soft voice. It shifted something inside of him.

“Are you laughing at me?” Simon asked, a bemused smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “I suppose you find this all very amusing, don’t you?”

Catherine giggled again, her tiny hands waving in the air. Simon felt a warmth spread through his chest, a sensation he hadn’t expected.

She could not articulate words, but her method of communication was proving to be more than effective.

“I suppose you’re not that bad company,” Simon nodded, his gaze fixating on the baby.

This time, he made a face — trying to amuse Catherine. And once again, she giggled loudly, waving her little hands in the air.

The door swung open as Harriet returned.

“What is going on here…?” she paused in the doorway, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight before her. “Is she... laughing?”

Simon looked up, a bit sheepishly. “It appears so.”

Harriet exchanged a glance with Eliza. “I’ve never heard her laugh like this before.”

Eliza nodded, her own face bright with curiosity. “It’s a lovely sound, Your Grace.”

Harriet approached, reaching out to take Catherine from Simon’s arms. “What did you do to make her laugh?”

Simon hesitated, not wanting to admit that his grumbling had inadvertently amused the baby. He gently handed Catherine back to Harriet, clearing his throat. “I’m not entirely sure. She just... started laughing.”

“Just started laughing?” Harriet asked, not convinced in the slightest.

Perhaps she found my predicament endearing.

“Is that so hard for you to believe, Duchess?” Simon asked instead, raising an eyebrow.

Harriet shot him a look, as she handed Catherine to Eliza. “Please make sure that you only use towels soaked in lukewarm water for her bath,” she instructed before gesturing to the duke to follow her out of the room.

“You must forgive me, Simon. I intend not to cast doubts about your ability to make her laugh. Just that…” she bit down on her lip, “I do not think I’ve ever been able to make her laugh in this manner, and nor have any of the maids. And believe me, it is not from a lack of trying.”

“Did you ever consider that perhaps she just likes me?” Simon said, an air of smugness now replacing his confusion.

“Surely she cannot like you more than she does me,” Harriet sparred.

“Perhaps you need to reconsider that delusion,” Simon replied.

“Absolutely not.”

At that moment, they were bickering again like children. All over the affections of this strange baby that had just parceled itself into their lives.

Simon realized that it was similar to when parents fought amongst each other — each trying to win the crown for who their child loved the most.

The thought… unsettled him, and he sobered up considerably quickly, clearing his throat.

“Is she going to be bathed now?” he asked, broaching a practical topic instead.

Harriet nodded. “She is. I have committed all the tips my sister, Esther, gave me to memory. Frequent bathing is one of them.”

“I see,” Simon nodded. “You seem to have learnt a great deal about childcare since the first day that she arrived here.”

“I do not believe I have another choice,” Harriet sighed. “I cannot just leave her at the mercy of the maids. She might not be my own child, but my conscience does not allow me to let her be anything but extremely comfortable here.”

Simon thought back to his brother — he was nowhere to be found when he went looking for him today. And even though they had a lead for him at the cockfight, there was no certainty that they would actually find him there, much less him admitting to the baby being his.

What if then… then they would have to care for the baby for much longer than initially expected? What if they had to adopt her into their family?

The encounter with Catherine had been unexpected, yet strangely fulfilling. The baby’s laughter had been a balm to his frayed nerves, and the warmth of the moment lingered with him.

Perhaps it would not be so bad, he thought to himself.

The realization that he had enjoyed the interaction with Catherine was both surprising and oddly comforting. He had never considered himself particularly adept with children.

“What are you thinking about?” Harriet asked, catching him off guard.

“Must you always know everything?”

Harriet shot him a look. “Must you keep things private always? I know that you wrote to me once during the year that you were away, but now that you are here, perhaps you can start sharing your thoughts more with me.”

Simon raised an eyebrow, amused by her antics and only slightly irked. It seemed that she had taken his advice from earlier very seriously.

“And why would I ever dream of doing that?”

“You said yourself,” Harriet shrugged, “I am to behave in a manner that is befitting for a duchess. Well, I believe that I am well within my bounds to demand that my husband shares his thoughts with me.”

Simon shook his head, an amused smile forming on his lips. His own plan seemed to be backfiring on him.

“There is no need for you to act like this in front of me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is there not? Then, you must tell me how I should act around you. It seems that I have a lot to catch up on.”

The way that she was talking to him now… it felt so… familiar. As though she had known him for years.

To his surprise, he did not find himself growing excessively annoyed by it either. It was strangely fascinating to him, though he would never admit that to her.

“What are you trying to imply here, Duchess? You must speak clearly.”

Harriet let out a loud sigh. “I am only suggesting that it is good if we get to know each other better. While you are here at the estate, at least.”

He could sense a certain fear in voice — like she expected him to flee again. It made him feel a tinge of guilt, but he quickly suppressed it.

“And what would this… knowing of each other entail, exactly?” he questioned.

“A sharing of preferences, for one,” she nodded. “I do not know anything, it seems.”

“You know that I do not like being disobeyed,” he added.

“Then, perhaps you married the wrong woman. I have always had a reputation for doing what I want.”

“Is that why your mother was so comfortable with not listening to anything you were saying earlier?” he challenged. “It seems that you do not know yourself. How do you expect to know me?”

That seemed to anger her. “I know myself plenty well.”

“I shall believe it when I see it,” he said, and then began to walk away. He knew that he was leaving her fuming, but speaking to her like this… it was risky.

He did not want to grow close to her, knowing that he would have to leave soon when matters with Catherine were sorted out.

He had to find Tobias. It was crucial that he did, and expeditiously so.