Celia (A Sinclair Society Novella)

Chapter Twelve

Simon appeared to be in high spirits during our visit. He showed no apprehension or ill-effects from the previous day's events. Eagerly, he showed Horace his drawings, ignoring how Miss Webber looked on with disapproval. My husband marveled at his brother's talent as if he'd never taken notice before.

I was content to watch them communicate through gestures and writing. When I asked Simon how he was, he brushed aside my concern with a wave of his hand. He, in turn, asked after Juliet, making Miss Webber's disapproval shift into a glare with suspicion.

By the time we returned to the main house, it was past noon, and Horace had come to the decision that I was right. He vowed to find a tutor to hone Simon's skills as soon as possible. And, much to my surprise, he apologized for not listening to me earlier.

Pleased with how the morning had gone, I was exhausted. I retired to my room for what I considered a well-deserved nap. When I woke, I checked on Juliet, who was also sleeping. It wasn't until dinner that I actually saw my guests.

Should I have felt more guilty about that?

Thankfully, no one hinted at being displeased with how the day had gone. The ladies had spent their hours with their embroidery, while the gentlemen had kept themselves occupied in the library. The dowager appeared pleased with how the day had gone, though she frowned with disapproval when Miss Williamson asked after Simon.

Mr. Harper and Sir Henry kept up lively banter, debating the benefits of traveling in one's youth. Sir Henry fell on the side that it expanded one's mind, and Mr. Harper thought it a waste of money and time. It was difficult to tell if they were truly set in their opinions or simply debating for the sake of doing so.

Supper passed with the rest of us offering our opinions on this one debate, and I was relieved that it did not fall on me to introduce alternate topics. I did notice that the dowager did not offer any opinion, even when both gentlemen solicited her for it. She saved her point of view for when we ladies retired to the drawing room.

"I think it ‌strange that Sir Henry believes young men ought to travel," the dowager declared as soon as the tea tray had been set down in front of me. "Why should a family be expected to pay for such dissolution and selfish pursuits?"

"As my husband said, he believes it expands a young man's mind," Lady Jonson said with a smile. "A young man can meet new people and hear new ideas that he would never encounter if he remained in his own circle of friends. He and I are certain it helps a person become more...understanding."

"Understanding? New ideas?" The dowager shook her head. "Some of the most understanding people I know have never left their home county. I'm glad Horace never thought to waste money in such a way."

"And yet, he is one of the most well-traveled young men I've met," Lady Jonson responded. "He has not stayed in his home county. I believe he has been to every county in England."

The dowager's cheeks flushed with color. How had she managed to get so far in life with no one disagreeing with her? "And if a young man cannot travel, he can get a different perspective from a well-educated tutor," I added, pouring the tea.

"Oh, indeed," Lady Jonson agreed immediately. "The advice of an educated person is invaluable!"

My mother-in-law huffed, annoyed that the focus had been taken from her. "As I was saying," she said, raising her voice. "It is a waste of money to have a Grand Tour. No one in my family ever did."

I kept my gaze on Lady Jonson. "In fact, my husband has agreed to get a tutor for Simon," I announced. "I have finally convinced him that Simon deserves such an education."