after I told him I’d conceived, he sent Giles away, and in his celebration of another heir, he died.
“I hated him so very much for what he’d done to me, and you and Giles, that before the grass had grown over his grave, I married your father.” Her lower lip trembled, and she looked up at Simon, tears sparkling in her eyes. “I am so sorry, Simon.”
“Sorry?”
“I should have told you,” she burst out with another round of tears. “I should have told you about Giles, but I was still grieving. I should have told you about your father and me, but I was too embarrassed. What must you think of me, an adulteress? I-I-I loved your father all along and I couldn’t imagine having another of his children be claimed as Lord Norcourt’s. But in my selfishness, I stole away what might have been yours.”
“A title that I had no right to?” Simon asked flatly.
She nodded. “I-I… One day you’ll have children and understand how hard it is to pick one over another,” she explained weakly. “It was the very least I could ensure to Giles for all that he’s suffered.”
“And rightfully so,” Simon agreed. Heedless to the fact he was clad in only a pair of dove trousers, he walked over to his mother and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I love you, Mother. I truly do and I understand.” He pulled back. “I’m glad you married Father.” Simon couldn’t have imagined what his life would have been like had he not had Father.
“You’re not angry with me?” The surprise in her voice made him chuckle.
“No.”
“Not even about not telling you about Giles sooner?”
Simon momentarily stiffened. “At first, I was,” he admitted. “But not…” He shrugged.
“Now?”
Simon released his mother and resumed his earlier seat. “It’s not Giles that I didn’t like. I just didn’t like that I hadn’t been told. He just turned up and suddenly the two of you couldn’t seem to remember how to breathe if he wasn’t around.”
Mother cocked her head to the side. She’d always been perceptive when it came to Simon—save these past few months when she’d become obsessed with rekindling her motherly bond with Giles. “Something’s different,” she mused. “Just a month ago, you nearly brought down my lending library about my ears at seeing Giles and Lucy’s wedding announcement in the newspaper.”
Simon scowled. “I did not.”
“Yes, you did,” Mother said with a little laugh. “Every time we’ve ever mentioned Giles, you’ve acted like you were sitting on a nail. Why, the time we had him, Lucy, and Seth over for dinner…” She narrowed her eyes on him. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you,” Mother said without hesitation. “Something is going on, and I won’t rest until I know what it is.”
An image of Rae in his bed, her face resting against his pillow flashed into his mind.
“Your grin only confirms it,” Mother said with a snap of her fingers. Her eyes held that familiar excited, mischievous light they’d always had during his boyhood. A spark that had been extinguished for a brief few months. He was glad to have it back. Perhaps her worry over not telling Simon about Giles had been harder for her than Simon had realized.
Remorse of his unkind thoughts toward her filled his heart.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Simon said thickly.
Mother blew out a deep breath. “I suppose I can forgive you for your beastly behavior as of late, but—” she exhaled again— “only if you’ll tell me what has you smiling like a cat who’s spotted the cream.”
“A certain young lady,” Simon said with another grin.
Mother’s eyes tripled in size. “Who? It’s not Lady Eugenia, is it?” Before Simon could answer, his mother waved her hand through the air. “Of course it’s not that wretched young lady. Is it Lady Sophia?”
He shook his head.
“Good. I don’t like her mother.” Mother jumped off her seat and started pacing. “Miss Camille Essex?”
Simon shook his head again. Mother would never guess.
“Even better, her father is a gambler of the worst sort. He’s always borrowing money from his eldest daughter’s husband.” She tapped a finger against her cheek. “Lady Elizabeth James?”
“You’ll never guess.”
“Clearly not,” Mother agreed, coming to a halt in front of Simon. “All right, who is she?”
“Henrietta—”
“Hughes,” Mother finished for him.
“Appleton,” Simon corrected.
“Pardon?” Mother and Father said in unison.
“Her father’s name is Hughes; she’s taken on her husband’s surname: Appleton.”
“That’s where you’ve been?” Mother burst out, her voice on the edge of hysteria.
Simon stiffened. “Is there a problem with