Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

A s Simon walked out of Harriet’s room, he felt a weight settle in his chest.

Why can you not give the girl what she wants? The question was bearing heavy on his soul.

Harriet had surprised him with her inclinations. From the moment that he had met her, he had known that she was not like other women.

She had always come across as a woman who had no qualms about standing up for herself. It must have taken a great deal of effort for someone like that to lay out her vulnerabilities in front of him.

For that, he was honored. But he could never be the picture of a perfect husband that she desired, the absolute domestic bliss — the thought alone sent shivers down his spine.

He was so busy with his own thoughts that he had nearly forgotten that Tobias was still here. Simon found him crouching outside the nursery door, looking as though he had been struck underhandedly.

“Tobias,” Simon called out to him immediately. Tobias had his head buried in his hands. At his brother’s provocation, he slowly removed them to peer between his fingers.

“Idonotknowwhattosay.”

“Pardon?” Simon took a cautious step forward. “What are you mumbling on about? How was the visit with Catherine?”

Tobias exhaled a deep sigh, and then as though he was gathering himself, arose slowly. He was as tall as Simon, if not taller and met his brother at eye-level.

“Brother, I…”

“Out with it,” Simon barked, having already run out of his patience for the day. “Do you finally see what you have done?”

“I wish that I could tell you I am horrified by my actions,” Tobias admitted. “Frankly, I expected that as well. But…”

Simon softened up significantly as he realized where his brother was going with this. Catherine had worked her magic again — gotten another member of the Atherton household firmly on her side.

“But what?” Simon beckoned him to confirm what he already suspected.

“Do you wish for me to say it?” Tobias asked, looking defeated.

Simon raised an eyebrow, beckoning him to continue.

“All I say to you is that this has felt like… one of the most important moments of my life, if not the most important,” Tobias admitted. “I will try my hardest to locate her mother. Seeing her now, I believe I know exactly where to look.”

That got an enthusiastic nod out of Simon. “Do you really believe that you have a lead?”

And then, Simon felt strange that they were treating the topic of finding the woman who gave birth to Catherine like a detective case.

“I shall return to you when I have news, dear brother,” Tobias announced, and began to retreat toward the door, his usual swagger tempered by the gravity of the moment.

Simon watched him go, his heart a mix of emotions — pride, concern, and a lingering sense of uncertainty. He wanted to believe in Tobias’s newfound resolve, to trust that his brother’s intentions were as genuine as they seemed. But years of disappointment and broken promises made it difficult to fully let down his guard.

“Tobias,” Simon called out just as his brother reached the threshold, his voice carrying a note of caution that couldn’t be ignored.

Tobias paused, turning back to face him, an eyebrow raised in silent inquiry.

“I hope that you keep your promise.”

A flicker of something — perhaps shame, perhaps determination — crossed Tobias’s face. He nodded, the weight of Simon’s words sinking in.

“I shall hope to see you very soon, brother.”

For the next several days, Harriet made herself scarce within Atherton House, avoiding Simon with a determination that would have impressed even the most dedicated member of the ton’s social circles. If he entered a room, she found a reason to leave it. If he sought her out, she managed to be otherwise occupied — often with Cathy, the sweet child who had become both her solace and her sanctuary.

To an outsider, Harriet’s sudden preoccupation with the baby might have seemed natural, a new mother — or at least, a stand-in for one — immersed in the responsibilities of care. But beneath the surface, her every action was tinged with a carefully controlled sense of avoidance. She had no desire to confront Simon, no wish to discuss the weighty matters that hung between them like an unspoken promise, or perhaps a curse.

The nursery became her refuge, a place where she could focus on Cathy’s needs and distract herself from the tumult of her emotions. Harriet busied herself with the daily tasks that had become second nature — feeding, changing, soothing Cathy to sleep — repeating each action with meticulous care as if the routine alone could shield her from the turmoil that brewed in her heart.

And when Cathy smiled at her, or giggled in that sweet, innocent way that she did, Harriet felt a momentary sense of peace. In those moments, she could almost forget the disaster that was her marriage. She could almost forget the way Simon’s eyes had held hers with such intensity the last time they’d spoken, the way his words had unsettled the fragile balance she’d so carefully maintained.

But even in the sanctuary of the nursery, Harriet was not entirely free from Simon’s presence. She could feel him in the house, his presence a subtle but undeniable weight that pressed down on her.

Sometimes, he would make direct attempts to get through to her. Like this morning, when her maid knocked on her door.

“Your Grace, the duke is asking for your presence at the breakfast table,” Eliza said to Harriet.

“Tell His Grace that I will be taking my breakfast in my room.”

Eliza pressed her lips together, hesitantly. “His Grace told me that you would respond with that. He requested me to tell you to proceed downstairs, regardless.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes at her. “Eliza, you are my lady’s maid. Since when did you shift over to the duke’s side?”

Eliza hung her head low, “I am sorry, Your Grace. I am only acting as I have been instructed.”

Harriet racked her brain, knowing that she was going to have to come up with a more viable excuse to dodge the duke this morning. “Tell His Grace that I do not feel well this morning. And that it pertains to my monthlies.”

Eliza blushed at the suggestion. Surely, it was a bold thing to say out loud.

“Your Grace, I cannot —”

She was in the midst of completing her sentence when the door opened behind them. Simon had come up himself, presumably running out of patience.

“Eliza, you can give us a moment alone now, please,” Simon said to the maid, who scurried off instantly. “Now, what seems to be the problem here?”

Harriet took in a deep breath, growing nervous now that he was here in person but doing a good job at hiding it.

“There is no problem, Your Grace.”

“I see. Then, what is the reason for the wait? You were supposed to join me for breakfast a while ago.”

“Oh, I was?” Harriet croaked, feigning her innocence. “I was not aware.”

Simon passed her a look that said, really? He could see right through her efforts at trying to come across as nonchalant.

“Well, if there has been any confusion, I am here to get you myself. You have been acting quite strangely ever since the?—”

“Oh but I believe I am quite ill….”

“What has happened?” he asked, alarmed.

“Simon, I really think you must leave. This is…” she knitted her eyebrows together, her face contorting to indicate that she was in great pain, “this is a matter that only my maids can deal with. I believe that my courses have arrived.”

Immediately, Simon took a step back, a faint — and very rare — blush forming on his cheeks.

“Oh, I was not aware…”

“Yes, yes. You must send for Eliza right away. I am sorry, Simon. But such a condition really does not permit me to come and join you for breakfast. Really, it is a shame.”

Simon did not argue further, nodded and retreated to the door.

But right before he left, he turned to look back at Harriet one last time.

“I hope that you feel better at the earliest. And that…” there was a slight pause as Eliza comes running into the room. Simon ignored her. “And that you thought about that which I proposed to you the other day.”

Harriet was still sitting on the floor when the sound of his footsteps faded into the distance, and a worried Eliza replaced him.

“Your Grace, what has happened?” she asked.

But Harriet was already dusting off her dress, and helping herself up from the floor.

“I suppose that worked,” she sighed, causing Eliza’s hand to go flying to her mouth in disbelief.

“Your Grace, were you….” she hesitated, “You mean to say you were only putting on an act?”

Harriet passed her a small smile. “I hope the duke can forgive me.”

The two women stared at each other for a moment, and then burst into laughter. The situation was ridiculous, and Harriet could find the humor in it, if she did not let herself get too consumed by how sad it was.

“I am sure His Grace will not hold it against you,” Eliza said.

“Thank you. Now, report to him that I will be inside my room all day. And then inform me when he retires to his study, so that I can go and see Catherine at that time.”

“As you wish, Your Grace,” Eliza said, and promptly left the room.

Now left alone, Harriet thought back to what Simon had said to her just as he left.

Consider his suggestion.

She had done more than just consider it. In earnest, it was all that she had thought about.

The thought of having a baby of her own swelled her heart in a way that she had never experienced before. The idea of her belly growing — just as she had seen her sisters go through — and then having a little bundle of joy of her own.

One that no one could take away from her. That possibility was too tempting to pass up. Tempting enough that she often found herself thinking of accepting it.

The only thing that stopped her was the idea in her head of the perfect marriage — a marriage that theirs was far from.

Could she accept it? Once again, she knew that she wanted advice. Asking her sisters would be too… complicated. She did not want to burden them with the troubles of her marriage.

Telling the maids would be too risky. She trusted some, like Eliza. But still, it would be too close to home.

She needed someone who was both trustworthy, and could offer a fresh perspective. Which is why when the nursemaid came in the next morning, Harriet requested to speak to her alone.

“Your Grace,” said Agnes, bowing slightly before entering the duchess’s room. “I was told that you called for me.”

“Yes, I just wanted to know if everything was going smoothly with Catherine,” Harriet decided to ease into the topic. She did not want to scare poor Agnes away with her marital problems.

Agnes lit up at the topic. “Yes, she is such a well-behaved child for her age. We have not had any issues in the slightest.”

Harriet nodded, fidgeting with the ring on her finger. How was she meant to broach the topic that she actually wanted to discuss?

“Agnes,” she began with uncertainty laced in her tone, “I must ask you something.”

“Please do, Duchess. I would be more than happy to help you in whatever way is possible for me to.”

“You have worked in many households, correct?” she asked.

“As is the nature of my job, Your Grace.”

“Then, you must have also seen many different marriages.”

If Agnes was surprised by the her question, then she did not let it show. Instead, she simply nodded.

“Can you tell me,” Harriet’s nails scraped the inside of her palm; her anxiety was palpable. “What is a normal marriage meant to look like?”

Agnes smiled, “Your Grace, I would answer that question but I believe there is no answer to it. At least not an answer I can provide you in earnest.”

Harriet leaned forward, her eyes widening. “Whatever do you mean? Surely, there is a normal standard. My mother always maintained so.”

“Perhaps that was her experience,” Agnes smiled. “But from what I have observed, everyone’s marriage seems to be different. I do not think it is my place to judge.”

“But surely you must have some… metric?” Harriet asked, feeling like a child pestering their tutor. “Some that you can gauge.”

“Your Grace, all I can tell you is that there is no real measure of what is normal. Individually, all of us have different needs. Society expects the husband to provide for the wife, and the wife is expected to bear a child. If society were to be the judge, then I would say that is the metric for normality.”

Harriet chewed over her words inside her head for a moment.

Provides for her? Yes, that applied.

Expectation to bear a child? If I agree to his offer, then that too would apply.

So, was their marriage not as abnormal as she thought? Could it be possible that some people were in worse-off situations than her? Did she really only need to learn a touch more gratitude?

“I hope that satisfies your query, Your Grace,” Agnes spoke again when Harriet had been silent for a while, too lost in her thoughts.

“Yes, yes. This is… helpful to me,” Harriet nodded. “Thank you, Agnes. I did not want to bother you as you worked.”

Agnes flashed Harriet a genuine smile. “There is no need to worry, Your Grace. You may request my assistance at whatever time you choose.”

Harriet nodded, and then dismissed her. She thought to herself that she had to make a decision and that it would be better if she did so sooner rather than later.

The opportunity seemed to arise as early as the next morning. It was a quiet morning.

Harriet was in the nursery bathing Catherine when she heard the door open behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Simon; his presence filled the room in a way that made her acutely aware of him, even when he was silent.

“Good morning,” she acknowledged. She did not want to ignore him forever, even though her instinctive reaction was to do just that. “Have you come to ask why I did not show up to breakfast once again this morning?”

He passed her a sheepish smile, “I do not believe there is any need for me to ask. You seem quite… occupied, as is,” he gestured to her holding Catherine. “Would you like some help?”

Harriet blinked, her hands pausing as she glanced up at him. Help? Simon had never offered to help with the baby before. The request took her by surprise, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to respond.

After a moment, she nodded, stepping aside to let him closer. “All right.”

“Excellent,” Simon stepped closer, and rolled up his sleeves before crouching over slightly so that he was at their level. “Shall I?”

Harriet nodded, passing Catherine to Simon. He took her, keeping a gentle but firm grip on her. Then, he tested the temperature of the water with his elbow. “Seems about just right.”

Harriet could not tear her gaze away. His large hands, so capable of commanding respect and authority, cradled Cathy with surprising tenderness.

She felt the same pang as she did when she had seen him helping Tobias when it came to holding Cathy.

It stirred something deep inside of her.

When Cathy was finally dressed in a fresh gown, Harriet wrapped her in a soft towel, holding her close. The baby cooed contentedly, her tiny hands reaching out to touch Harriet’s face.