Chapter 24

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"Hold me close and hold me fast,

The magic spell you cast,

This is la vie en rose." Louis Armstrong, La Vie En Rose

—-



Chapter Twenty – Four

"Where to start?" sighed Simon as he put an arm around Imogen.

"How about from the beginning?" suggested Imogen. "What is your little girl's name?"

"That is not the beginning," replied Simon quietly.

Imogen craned her neck to look up at him. All she could see of his face was his scar. Something told her that his accident was about the beginning. "Oh?"

Simon smiled down on her. "When I was released from the hospital in London, still looking quite worse for wear, I paid a visit to Mrs Evelyn Hepburn in Somerset. She was George Hepburn's widow. The purpose for visiting Mrs Hepburn was to apologise to her. At the time I felt as though her husband's death was my fault."

Imogen did not contradict him, not when he was sharing. Though she knew he had come so far since believing that he was responsible for George Hepburn's death.

"She knew who I was the minute she opened the door. She had been informed of what her husband had done," continued Simon. "I remember that she was panicking. She was widowed with a young child and she was struggling to make ends meet. Mrs Hepburn believed that I was there for compensation."

"Compensation?" repeated Imogen.

Simon nodded. "Compensation for my injury. It was then that I realised that Mrs Hepburn would not be allowed a widow's pension."

"Why ever not?" asked Imogen. She was a widow, was she not? Why would she not receive a pension?

"Mrs Hepburn was not widowed in battle, honourably, I mean. The widows of men who were shot for cowardice or treason do not receive a pension. I suppose it looks as though we are rewarding a crime," explained Simon.

"But that is not fair!" protested Imogen. "Poor Mrs Hepburn had no control over her husband's actions."

Simon's arm tightened around Imogen. "I know," he replied, "which is why I paid her the widow's pension out of my own pocket. I did not want her to suffer because of something that I believed was my fault. She had a child to care for. Hannah."

Hannah. Imogen guessed that this was the name of Simon's brown eyed daughter. A selfish though crossed her mind. She was glad that Hannah was not illegitimate. "That was very honourable of you," commented Imogen softly.

"It was my responsibility," replied Simon. "I was given leave to convalesce," he continued, "something that drove me mad. I have never been good at sitting still and staying in one place," he paused, and looked down at Imogen, "that is, until I met you."

Imogen was still euphoric after his apology. There was nothing he could say that would change her mind. "Where did you go while you convalesced?" asked Imogen.

"I travelled," said Simon. "I have spent years across Europe and the East and West Indies and yet I have never seen these places. I suppose I wandered for a while. I spent a few months in Spain, which was where I learned to speak the language."

Imogen recalled Simon saying that he had learned to speak Spanish on leave the first time they had met.

"I returned to the army after six months abroad, and I was glad to be back. I wanted to make a difference, to make amends. To add to my guilt, I was promoted to the rank of Colonel upon my return." Simon sighed. "You know how I came to have Harry in my care, but I was not equipped to care for him at the time. My last few years in the military were productive and efficient. Though, as you know, I was still ridden with guilt upon my retirement."

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