Page 42 of Sir Hugo Seeks a Wife (Cinderellas of Mayfair #1)

Athene was enjoying a peaceful morning in Hampden Crags’ well-stocked library when Hugo appeared at the door, bearing a rectangular parcel wrapped in brown paper and string.

Two of the room’s three occupants raised their heads, both knowing what the package contained. The third person continued to gurgle happily in his crib in the corner. Master William Ivor Brinsmead was, at six months, a little too young to realize the significance of this moment.

Young Sylvie Brinsmead at seven, jumped up from where she’d been drawing pictures of her pony Mushroom and ran to twine her arms around her father’s waist. “Is that Mamma’s book? Show me, show me!”

Hugo glanced down from his great height at the miniature person clinging to him, and his lips curved with the delight that he always showed in his bright, outspoken daughter. “I think your mother should see it first, don’t you, Syl Bill?”

Athene, loving to witness her daughter and her husband’s mutual adoration, rose and stepped around the desk. “That’s a new nickname. What happened to Silver?” Hugo loved playing games with Sylvie’s name, and Sylvie loved it when he did. So did Athene.

“You can’t call me Syl Bill,” Sylvie complained with a toss of her dark head. “Bill is William’s name.”

“Maybe I should call you Silly and him Billy,” Hugo said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“No!” Sylvie said in protest. “I’m not silly. I’m very clever. Miss Grey says so.”

“Well, I’d never disagree with Miss Grey,” Hugo said. Sylvie’s governess was an undisputed treasure and even better, she appreciated all of Sylvie’s quirks.

Athene canted in over her daughter and kissed Hugo, then tugged the parcel from his hand. She stepped back and picked up some scissors from the top of the desk to cut the string.

“What’s wrong?” Hugo came up behind her. She turned to see him holding Sylvie’s hand.

Athene’s beloved husband had always known her too well. Right from the first, when his ability to perceive her feelings had verged on the uncanny. Now she met his questioning gaze and summoned a smile.

She suspected it was a weak effort, because his concerned expression didn’t lighten. Her husband was still breathtakingly handsome, and eight years of happy marriage had lent him a settled, contented air that sat well on his noble features.

These days, she was a different woman, too.

Love and Hugo had made her more generous and readier to trust in a benevolent universe.

After all the lonely years, she still found herself upon occasion marveling at the abundance of joy she’d found in her family and in this picturesque corner of Yorkshire she called home.

William’s arrival had placed the final stamp on her happiness.

“Athene?” Hugo asked.

She realized that she was staring at her husband and daughter in helpless adoration. Not an unusual occurrence. She blinked and brought herself back to the present. “It’s silly to be nervous, isn’t it?”

“As silly as Sylvie,” Hugo said, which made his daughter giggle.

“Open it, Mamma,” Sylvie said.

With shaking hands, Athene tore the wrapping to reveal a slim volume bound in rich red morocco leather and printed with gold lettering. “Oh…”

Hugo released Sylvie and slid his arm around Athene’s waist. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yes, it is,” Athene sighed, stroking the binding and feeling the embossed writing under her fingers.

“‘A Yorkshire Garland: Poems by Athene, Lady Brinsmead,’” Hugo read.

Since marrying Hugo, Athene had continued to write. This new life was too inspiring for her to remain silent. So she wrote about her family and her love for Hugo and the spectacular landscape that provided a frame for all her blessings.

Last year, Hugo had encouraged her to seek a publisher and to her delight, John Murray, Lord Byron’s publisher, had taken her on. This volume in her hands was an advance copy. The book would be on sale next month.

A fit of jitters had made her hesitate before opening the parcel. What if she was disappointed after all the work and hope and excitement? Now she couldn’t stop touching the book. “I’m ridiculously proud of myself.”

Hugo grunted with amusement and pressed his lips to her temple. “So you should be. I’m proud of you, too. You’re a brilliant poet, my darling. Now the whole world will agree with me.”

She opened the cover. “I’ve got something to show you.”

“Oh?” His surprise was understandable, given that he’d read multiple versions of every poem already.

She flicked through the first few pages, pausing at the frontispiece where she could hardly believe that she saw her name in print. The next page was the dedication. “Here.”

Hugo took the book. “‘To the finest man in the world, my beloved husband Hugo Brinsmead, who inspires every piece of my life and my work.’”

“Athene, I’m not worthy,” he said, his voice gruff.

“Of course you are.” When she saw how genuinely moved he was, her throat constricted and she blinked away a mist of tears. “Those words don’t even come near to expressing how much I love you and how grateful I am that you found me and made me yours.”

“Here we go, William,” Sylvie said in a long-suffering voice from the corner, where the baby continued in blissful ignorance of the emotion swelling inside the room. “They’re going to start cuddling, then there’s no sense to be got out of them for the rest of the day.”

Athene had been about to kiss Hugo, but Sylvie’s remark made her burst out laughing.

William’s gurgle sounded like agreement.

William found his sister of abiding interest, and the feeling was reciprocated.

Athene had worried that Sylvie might be jealous of the new arrival, but from the beginning, she designated herself her little brother’s champion.

“Get used to it, you impossible child,” Athene said.

Sylvie glanced back with a wry expression. “You’re going to want to be alone soon, aren’t you?”

Hugo was laughing, too. “You’re a little too knowing, miss.”

Athene met Hugo’s bright blue gaze. She did want to be alone with him. She wanted to show him how sincerely she meant that dedication.

As if on cue, Charity Grey appeared in the doorway with Alice, William’s nursemaid, behind her. “Did the book come?”

Charity had become a dear friend, and she was well aware of all the hopes and dreams wrapped up in the small book that Athene held.

“Yes. Here it is.” Athene held the poems out to the governess, who made suitably impressed comments as Alice bundled William up and took him upstairs. Sylvie joined Miss Grey in scanning the book and pronounced it just perfect.

“You have a very clever mamma,” Hugo said, his arm around Athene as he observed his daughter’s pleasure in the collection.

“Clever enough to know a good man when she saw one,” Athene murmured in his ear.

Charity held her hand out to Sylvie. “Shall we let your clever mamma take her time looking at her book, while you and I go out and count the wildflowers in the woods?”

“Yes, please,” Sylvie said, taking her governess’s hand. “Then can we stop and see Mushroom?”

“I’m sure we can manage that,” Charity said, casting a smile at Athene and Hugo as she placed the precious volume on a side table. “Then we need to go upstairs and compose a welcome ode for Aunt Julia and Uncle John. They’ll be here next week.”

“I’ll be a poet like Mamma,” Sylvie proclaimed.

“Indeed,” Charity said. “Just like your brilliant mamma.”

Athene mouthed “thank you” at her friend and watched them leave.

“Alone at last,” Hugo said.

Athene glanced at him under her eyelashes. “Shall we go upstairs? Seeing my name in print has proven rather…stimulating.”

Hugo kissed her with a passion that eight years of marriage had only made richer and sweeter. It was glorious to love and to know herself loved in return. “You really are a clever woman. Not to mention a beautiful one.”

These days, Athene didn’t protest when Hugo said that she was beautiful. The worship in his gaze made her feel beautiful. “You sweet-talking seducer, you,” she said, smiling into his eyes.

“Are you seduced?”

“I hope to be.”

Athene reached for the book before she and Hugo wandered hand in hand toward the door. “I can’t bear to leave this behind.”

“Did I mention talented, too?” Hugo said with a fond look.

“No, but you may.” She caught her breath, as once more, the immense changes in her life since they’d met threatened to overwhelm her. “Hugo, we have so much. Sometimes I can hardly believe how blessed we’ve been. I love you with all my heart.”

The steadfast love that illuminated their life together warmed his expression. “And I love you, Athene. You’ve turned my life to gold.”

“Oh, my love…”

Their kiss was long and profound and spoke of fulfillment to come. More, it spoke of a love that stretched ahead in a shining path that they’d travel together for the rest of their days.

When they emerged from the kiss, Athene was breathless. “Take me to paradise, my darling.”

“With pleasure, my lovely wife,” Hugo replied, kissing her hand and drawing her toward the staircase with an urgency that set her susceptible heart racing in sensual anticipation.

***

Thank you for picking up Sir Hugo Seeks a Wife, the first in my Cinderellas of Mayfair series.

Look for book 2 in the series in 2026. If you enjoyed this story, why not check out Miss Barton’s Mysterious Husband: A Mayfair Christmas Romance, which is loosely linked to Sir Hugo’s story? For more information, please read on.