“Good morning, mother, Vanessa,” he greeted.
His mother stared at him with a questioning arch of her brow, and he tamped down the annoyance that rose inside. This was how she greeted him daily, and that probing stare was a query if he had regained any of his missing memory. He was becoming damn tired of that being his conversation starter every day.
“Have you recalled any—”
“No,” he said a bit sharply.
His mother frowned at his rudeness in cutting her off, and he swallowed his sigh. Today he felt discontent. Instead of shutting himself away in the study dealing with estate matters, he had the sudden urge to retire to the country and exhaust himself with rowing on the palatial lake situated on his estate.
He sat in a large armchair by the fire and enquired about their day thus far. His mother launched into some light gossip that he had missed from last evening's ball, and for some reason, she assumed would be important to him.
“I am truly astonished that Lady Hassock drinking a full five glasses of punch is thought scandalous,” he said.
Vanessa laughed, her eyes twinkling. “There is speculation that she is breeding and—”
“Vanessa!”
Their mother looked shocked.
“I do know the word, mama, though I supposed enceinte would have been more delicate and ladylike?” Vanessa said with an arched brow.
“You seem out of sorts,” his mother said, noting his air of distraction.
Simon smiled slightly. “I find myself wondering about those acquaintances who seem surprised to know that I am alive.”
His mother glanced away, and he noted her hands clenched on the armchair. “We believed you dead as well, do not forget it.”
“Yes. However, when I woke in the hospice in France after being in a coma for several months, my family was immediately notified that I lived. Why did you not announce to the polite world that I had not perished as was first reported?”
“Why are you asking this now?”
“Am I not to ask, mother?”
She flushed at the coolness of his tone and took a deep breath.
“If you must receive an explanation, we simply wanted to be certain of your survival.” Her expression softened. “Our family had already lost so much…your father and brother in a boating accident, and then you were frail physically and…”
Mentally. That silent word echoed between them, and he gathered she could not say the word, for he was still deficient in that regard with his missing memories.
“Mother?”
She shot him a curious look. “What is it?”
“Am I specially acquainted with Miss Fairbanks?”
“I fear there are several misses Fairbankses. Their mother did not have the good breeding to only have an heir for her husband and a second child, but produced twelve of them,” his mother said, her tone thoroughly aghast.
“Mama,” said Vanessa, “he refers to Miss Frances Fairbanks. She approached him at Lady Pomeroy’s ball a few days ago.”
His mother made an obvious effort to collect herself. “I was not aware the family was in town,” she said stiffly.
“So, we are familiar with the entire family?” Why in God’s name did he not remember her? He had known Colin but had not been intimately acquainted with his extended family. How and when had he crossed paths with Frances Fairbanks?
“You are barely acquainted with that miss.”
The disdain leaking from his mother had Simon arching a brow.
“Miss Fairbanks is certainly not special to you,” she said, her lips tightening. “And certainly not fit for me to mention in your sister’s hearing.”