Page 35 of The Viscount, the Blacksmith, and the Lady
After he and Owen discussed some matter of politics, during which Xenia idly watched something outside the window, Simon said, “I have given much thought to our situation. The marriage we’ve proposed. I wish for you to become Lady Kinnerton, to live here with me, and... to have a life with both Owen and myself.”
Xenia’s fork hovered midway to her lips. She set down the utensil, hands trembling slightly. “It is more than I ever hoped for. I hoped to one day marry one of you, but feared losing the closeness with the other if I did.”
Having had similar thoughts, Simon understood her fears. “We must be careful to avoid doing anything that will draw attention to our arrangement. My servants are loyal, I believe, so we don’t have to fear what stories they might tell. Owen will keep his house in the village. He will continue his work at the smithy, which is essential for maintaining both his livelihood and our ruse.”
Xenia nodded, offering Owen a smile.
“I’m concerned someone will notice how often I return home at the break of dawn. There are others in the village whose work day begins early. Xenia’s parents, for one.”
Simon stroked his chin as he thought about the alternatives. Part of him wanted to say Owen should simply spend fewer nights with them, but that’s not what he’d promised Xenia. “There’s an empty house near here. Perhaps we shall purchase it for Owen. He can give the appearance of leaving from there each day, rather than here.”
Owen tipped his head as he met Simon’s gaze across the table. “Perhaps Zee might stay with me there at times. Just the two of us.” His suggestion hung in the air, bold and unapologetic.
Simon’s jaw tightened. Could he live with that? It’s what he was expecting Owen to accept, spending nights knowing Xenia is enjoying the pleasures of the other man. But Simon would be her true husband, her legal husband. She should stay with him.
He hated to admit how poorly suited he was to this idea—one wife for two husbands. This would be the hardest thing he’d ever attempted—no, he wasn’t attempting to give her what she wanted. He would succeed. How, well, he’d find it within himself to do so. That was how much he loved Xenia. But today, he wasn’t that man. “We may discuss such arrangements at another time.”
The tension in the room was palpable, like the charged air before a storm. He hated that for her. They were discussing marriage, the happiest time for a young lady. He must do better for her.
Owen’s hand came across the table, fingers brushing against Xenia’s. His gaze met Simon’s. “I appreciate the lengths you’ve gone to, Simon. For Zee—for all of us. I’m for this with every ounce of my being.”
Simon leaned back from the table, the food on his plate holding no interest for him. “Time is of the essence. I propose we leave for Gretna Green without delay. Owen, do you have any pressing commitments at the smithy?”
Owen nodded. “I’ve but one project to finish, and it should be done on Monday. After that, I’m yours and Xenia’s to command.”
“Why must we elope?” Xenia asked. “My mother will be upset about missing the wedding.”
He’d considered getting a special license so they could marry quickly at home, but that required him to travel a few days alone. Owen’s plan to marry her himself was foremost in Simon’s thoughts. If Simon left town, would the other man elope with her?
Common sense said he wouldn’t, but Simon was having little luck convincing himself of that. The fact Owen had agreed that marrying Simon was the better option, for all the reasons Simon had stressed, showed he was thinking of what’s best for her. He wasn’t scheming to seduce her away from Simon for his own satisfaction.
Which was awfully close to what Simon wanted to do—seduce her into accepting a life with him alone. As much as he trusted Owen, he wouldn’t relax until he and Xenia were married.
He realized she waited for his answer. He conjured one to cover his selfishness. “I don’t wish to wait. The travel will take the same time either direction, to London or Gretna Green, but this way I have you at my side and we’ll be married in half the time.”
Her smile said his answer pleased her. Owen’s cocked brow said he, too, questioned the need to elope, and the answer hadn’t fooled him.
He offered Xenia a loving smile. “Pack only what you must. We depart under the veil of nightfall tomorrow night.”
“I shall leave a note for my parents,” Xenia said. “That will relieve their worries when I’m missing.”
“Excellent,” Simon said. “Go to the smithy at midnight. We’ll be waiting in my carriage to whisk you away to our future.”
Xenia’s gaze flitted between the two men. “But Simon, how am I to be wed to both of you?”
Simon found her hand across the table, his touch gentle yet firm. “You know how it must be. Legally, you will marry me alone, but Owen’s attendance at the ceremony—and our wedding night—is imperative to us. It is his blessing, his vow alongside mine, that will bind us together in all the ways that truly matter.”
Xenia smiled.
“Perhaps afterward we’ll have a private ceremony where I may bind myself to you,” Owen said, his voice huskier than usual.
“And I to you,” Xenia said. “I’d like that.”
They were married without pomp in a smithy, which Xenia thought was ironically fitting, seeing how Owen stood at her side opposite Simon. She wore her best gown, which had formerly seen the insides of prestigious homes or assembly halls in London, thanks to her cousin. Simon wore navy trousers and matching tail coat, looking more dapper than she recalled seeing him. Owen’s buckskin breeches fitted his strong thighs, giving her wicked thoughts even while hearing the wedding rite being spoken, and he wore his finest tailcoat.
After they were married, the three returned to the inn where Simon had requested two rooms. They’d only use one, but must adhere to propriety. Xenia removed her bonnet and pelisse in their room while Simon set his hat and gloves aside. Owen had gone first to his room, but quickly joined them, minus his hat, coat, and neckcloth.
“Such a swift ceremony,” Simon mused, breaking the silence as he slipped off his coat and unbuttoned his waistcoat.