Page 38 of The Viscount, the Blacksmith, and the Lady
“I will arrange for funds to be set aside for her out of my own income. Moreover, I intend to buy a cottage near Kinnerton. It will serve as her dower house.”
When Simon had initially considered the cottage, it was as a home for Owen to allow him to live nearby. If Simon were to die, Xenia would naturally join Owen there. Of course, he kept this information away from his grandfather, but the dower house was an excellent diversion if the earl questioned him about it later.
The earl grunted. “You’ve shown more forethought than I anticipated. Still, this is a matter that requires careful consideration.”
“I’ve known Xenia for my entire life, and I know her to be an intelligent, loving woman. I love her more than I can imagine loving any other woman.” Simon refrained from adding that he’d agreed to allowing another man to share in their relationship out of love for his wife. He doubted his grandfather could understand a deep, overpowering love.
Lord Staplegrove’s eyebrow arched, skepticism etched into the lines of his aged face. “Love,” he pronounced the word as if it were a foreign coin he was unsure of its worth. “It is admirable that you place such stock in this emotion, but love alone does not maintain an estate or secure a lineage.”
Simon leaned forward, hands clasped before him, his voice imbued with a fervor that filled the study. “With all due respect, Grandfather, I must disagree. Love is the very cornerstone upon which we shall build our family. It is the foundation of happiness and stability for any children we are blessed with. Xenia’s warmth, her generosity of spirit; these are the attributes that will nurture our heirs and endear them to the people of Kinnerton.”
“Children need more than mere affection, they require guidance, discipline, a name...” The earl’s retort was pointed, yet there was a softening around his eyes, perhaps recalling his own youthful passions. No, Simon didn’t believe the old man had ever felt passion.
“Which they shall have, under the guidance of a mother who loves deeply and a father who will strive to emulate your example of leadership.” He paused, the fire within him dimming to embers as he broached the next subject, one heavy with unspoken fears. “But should my efforts be cut short by an untimely demise?—”
“As we know all too well is possible,” the earl interrupted with a brusque wave of his hand, but Simon pressed on.
“Life is uncertain,” he persisted, “and should fate deal me a cruel hand, I implore you to extend your protection to Xenia. To treat her with the kindness and respect she deserves, especially if she is left a widow with children to care for. Your great-grandchildren.”
“Should such a tragedy befall you, rest assured, I would not abandon your widow or your offspring.” There was a grudging respect in his tone, a tacit acknowledgment of the gravity of Simon’s request.
A profound relief washed over Simon, though it did little to ease the tension that still thrummed in his veins. He nodded respectfully, acknowledging the gravity of the conversation and the concessions made. “Thank you, Grandfather. Your support means more than you might imagine.”
With those final words, he turned and made his way to the door, each step measured and deliberate. As eager as he was to leave this house, he needed to consider Xenia’s well-being. He could maintain a pleasant façade for a few hours longer and allow her to rest, but then they must renew their journey.
The carriage swayed gently and Xenia wondered if they’d ever be home. This was her first journey from the village and, aside from the joy it brought of her now being married to the men she’d loved always, she hoped she’d never have to travel again.
She sat alone, facing her two men, each staring out a window. Simon exuded an air of quiet intensity. She wondered how his private audience with his grandfather had gone. The earl had been polite enough in the short time she spent with the three men after her brief nap. He was a very austere sort, she’d decided, very noble. What had he been like before assuming the earldom? Would Simon change much when his time came?
Owen looked restless, shifting his position often. Likely he didn’t spend entire days doing nothing like this. As she studied him, he turned his head and caught her gaze. As the carriage took a curve in the road, he rose from his seat and moved to sit beside her, his proximity sending a thrill through her body.
“Husband,” she said softly, her insides smiling as much as her lips did.
“My Zee,” he whispered back, his tone low and husky. His hand moved to her lap, where he began gathering her gown.
She felt the cool air kiss her legs as they were bared to the hungry gaze of the two men she had loved in silence for so long. She watched Simon lean forward opposite her, his attention riveted on her most intimate parts, now visible by Owen’s boldness. There was something almost reverential in the way Simon looked at her, as if he were beholding something precious and forbidden. She spread her legs to be certain he had his fill of the sight.
“Look how eager you are for us,” Owen commented, his finger sliding up and down her slick folds, parting her with a gentle but insistent touch. His words were not just an observation—they were an invocation, calling forth the heat that pooled between her thighs.
Xenia could feel a blush rising to her cheeks, the heat of it nearly as intense as the heat building within her. “I can’t help it. Not with such handsome men beside me, looking at me.”
“She blames us. Typical.” Simon’s formal tone held a hint of amusement and an undercurrent of arousal that was impossible to miss. It was a sound that stirred something deep within Xenia, emboldening her.
Owen’s hand between her thighs continued to toy with her idly. Rather than an insistent stroke aimed at building arousal, his fingers seemed content to simply explore. Yet her arousal grew.
Simon’s gaze bore into her, a glint of mischief mingled with desire in his eyes. “Xenia, you are the embodiment of wicked temptation.”
The words sent a shiver down her spine, stoking the flame within her. Her hips flexed, wanting something inside her—a finger, a tongue, a cock. She didn’t care. She felt scandalous under their dual attentions, yet she couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her veins. Owen’s fingers sought her warmth with a practiced ease, pressing into her as the carriage jostled them gently. Each bump in the road had her hips unwittingly grinding against his hand, the sound of her arousal embarrassingly audible in the confined space.
“Ah, Owen...” She could barely form words, her mind clouded with a haze of pleasure brought on by his fingers. The sensation of being displayed, coupled with Simon’s intense stare, was overwhelming. She surrendered to the rhythm set by the movement of the carriage, each roll accentuating the strokes of Owen’s fingers inside her.
As he continued his tender assault, her fingers clutched at Owen’s wrist, urging him on. Her body craved more.
“Good heavens, Zee,” Owen said, his own excitement palpable in the tremble of his voice. “You move with the carriage as if it were your lover.”
Simon’s voice, low and thick with desire, punctured the haze of Xenia’s pleasure. “Imagine, my dear, when we reach our home. Upstairs, in my bedchamber. No need to send away the servants anymore, as we’re married now.”
Owen’s fingers stilled momentarily inside her, and he leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “Picture it, Zee. We’ll have you naked on that soft bed all night. No need to hurry before someone questions where we are.”