while his other propped up his chin as he watched the flickering light in silence. As they’d not been afforded many opportunities to pass a few hours together, Finch wished his friend was in a chattier mood, but Simon had been reticent of late.
“Are you going to tell me what has you at odds or are you going to keep brooding?” asked Finch.
Simon straightened, his gaze shooting to his friend. “Brooding?”
Finch smirked. “Definitely brooding.”
Letting out a huff, Simon dropped his head against the back of the chair. “Don’t mock me.”
“I’m not.” He paused, gave that statement some consideration, and amended, “Not much, at any rate. But you leave me no choice but to poke and prod if you refuse to tell me what has you tied in knots.”
“My wife.”
Finch slanted a look towards Simon, but the fellow was already shaking his head.
“That is not fair of me. Mina is not the problem. She never was…” And with that, Simon began to unravel the tale of the first months of his marriage. Setting aside the food, Finch crossed his arms, watching as Simon flushed red at parts, smiled at others, and even looked close to weeping at various intervals.
It seemed love was for fools because Finch could hardly countenance Simon’s tale and the absolute muck he’d made of his life. While he claimed no skill with the ladies, even the eternal bachelor Lewis Finch recognized how foolhardy his friend’s behavior had been.
“Don’t just sit there like a lump, Finch. I don’t know what to do.”
Finch stared at his friend for a long moment before speaking.
“Let me see if I grasp the situation. You, proving yourself an utter halfwit—” Simon scowled at that, but Finch continued, “—you allowed your harpy of a mother to invade your home, towing along your equally wretched sisters and the repugnant lady you’d courted and pined for, even though she threw you over in favor of a man with higher social status. And don’t try to defend your decision to allow them entrance to Avebury Park, Simon, for even I know that was especially idiotic.”
The angry pull to Simon’s expression eased, and he gave Finch a sad nod. Only once he conceded the point did Finch continue.
“Then, they spent weeks tormenting and brow-beating your wife, while you stood by and did nothing—”
“I did not understand the extent of their actions. Had I known, I would’ve tossed them out far sooner than I did.”
Finch nodded. “But that does not excuse the fact that you fawned over your former love in front of your wife. Good heavens, man! You are lucky Mina forgave you! She’d have been within her rights to run you through.”
“I know!” Simon pounded the arm of his chair and straightened. “Do you think I don’t know that, Finch? The only defense I can give for my action is that I did not intentionally flirt with that woman…” Simon paused, his brows pulling tight together. “Or, I don’t believe it was intentional. I am no longer certain if it was an accident or simply self-delusion.”
“Likely both.”
“But that is neither here nor there. The fact is that something is at odds with my wife again. Since we reconciled, my life has been as close to perfect as one can find in this imperfect world, but something is shifting. I felt it in the weeks leading up to her leaving me, and I feel an echo of it now…”
Simon’s voice faded into nothing, and he sat limply in his chair as though that confession had robbed him of his strength. His eyes bleakly stared off into the distance as though seeing the future he feared was unfolding before him.
“I’ve tried asking her about it, but she claims nothing is the matter.” Simon paused, his brow furrowing. “Perhaps I ought to be more direct.”
“That is a terrible idea. Neither of you wishes to discuss the matter, so why subject yourself to a drawn-out and painful conversation? Besides, the issue is easy enough to remedy without such discomfort,” said Finch, and Simon’s gaze snapped to his.
“How so?”
“The problem in the past was that you neglected your wife. So, shower her with affection. Gifts, outings, whatever you like.” Finch was not particularly pleased with that course of action, but even if it left him abandoned even more often, he would not let the selfish impulse keep him from advising his friend.
Simon collapsed back into his dejected posture. “I have, but it’s not doing any good.”