S imon watched the passing landscape as the carriage rolled toward Staplegrove.
Beside him, Xenia’s head lolled gently with the rhythmic motion, her breathing even and calm.
He noted the shadows beneath her eyes—evidence of the whirlwind that had swept them to Gretna Green and bound them as husband and wife.
He broke the silence that filled the small space. “We shall stop at Staplegrove. I must apprise my grandfather of our nuptials, and Xenia needs rest.”
She stirred, a delicate frown creasing her brow as she processed his words, then nodded without protest.
Owen, who sat across from them, offered a supportive smile, but said, “Are you certain this is wise? Will he accept Xenia without objection?”
“He won’t say anything untoward in front of you two. I believe that upon seeing our lovely bride, he’ll agree she’ll make a lovely viscountess,” Simon said.
She pressed a hand to her hair, attempting to tame the wild curls that had fallen free on their long journey. “I wish I could make myself presentable before meeting him, but I suppose putting the introduction behind us will relieve some of my worries.”
With a small smile, Simon turned his gaze out of the window again, allowing himself the privacy of his thoughts.
The decision to marry Xenia without announcement, no reading of the banns or purchase of a license, was out of character, he acknowledged.
Yet, he’d done so out of an all-consuming love for the girl who had grown up alongside him, transforming from playmate to confidante, and now, to his beloved wife.
The past few days had been frenzied—the rush to Gretna Green, the exchange of vows, the press of her lips against his outside the smithy in their first kiss as man and wife. He’d put Xenia through so much, but she kept smiling.
His grandfather might understand eventually, he thought. Introducing Xenia to the Earl of Staplegrove was a necessary course of action—it was the next step in legitimizing their marriage in the eyes of society and, more importantly, in the eyes of his grandfather.
As heir to the earldom, Simon knew many would scrutinize and judge his actions.
But his determination to prove their love outweighed any fear of reprimand.
Xenia was worth every consequence, every scandalous whisper that might arise.
And if his quiet, thoughtful nature had been perceived as a weakness before, let them now see the steel resolve that came from loving deeply, fiercely.
A pair of hounds raced alongside the carriage, heralding their approach to Staplegrove, his family’s ancestral home that stood as a beacon of wealth and privilege.
Simon felt the familiar swell of pride for his family’s legacy, yet alongside it, an acute awareness of the gulf between this grandeur and Xenia’s simple beginnings above her parents’ bakery.
“Look,” he said to Xenia, leaning back so she might share in the view from the small window. The main house, a behemoth of stone and classical design, pierced the horizon with its towering columns and expansive wings.
“Staplegrove,” he announced. “One day this will be our home, Xenia.”
Her eyes widened slightly, as she leaned into him and peered out the window, and he wished he could discern her thoughts. Was she intimidated by the opulence, or did she see the beauty he had always seen? He hoped that one day she would come to love this place as he did.
As the carriage came to a halt, Simon alighted first, then turned to assist Xenia. He grasped her hand as she descended the step, a connection that conveyed more than words could at that moment—a silent promise that he was there for her, as her husband, her partner, in all things.
“Welcome to Staplegrove, my lord,” said the butler, who appeared by the carriage door.
Simon nodded to the man who had served his family for years, thankful for the formality that helped mask the nervous flutter in his chest. “Thank you, Davies. This is my new wife, Lady Kinnerton.”
The butler bowed, masking any expression on his face. “Felicitations, my lady.”
The butler led them through the foyer, Simon, Xenia, and Owen trailing behind. They moved past portraits of stern-faced ancestors and landscapes painted in oil. “Lord Staplegrove is in the drawing room.”
Simon drew in a breath, feeling Xenia’s slight hesitation beside him. This was it—the moment of truth. He placed a hand on her back in reassurance. Whatever lay ahead, they would face it together, as Lord and Lady Kinnerton.
The drawing room doors swung open, revealing the figure of Lord Staplegrove where he stood before the hearth. “Grandfather,” Simon greeted with a respectful nod.
“Kinnerton,” the earl acknowledged in a voice that seemed to rumble from deep within his chest. His gaze shifted, landing on Xenia with an intensity that belied his outward calm.
“May I introduce Xenia, the new Lady Kinnerton? My wife.” Simon wasn’t sure what he expected to happen when he said those words, but a bolt of lightning crashing through the roof wouldn’t have surprised him.
The earl offered a curt nod toward Xenia, his politeness not quite reaching his eyes. “Welcome to Staplegrove, Lady Kinnerton.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Xenia replied with a curtsy.
“Owen Bishop, a close friend and ally.” Simon continued, turning slightly to present their companion. He left out the details of Owen’s occupation, not wanting to push the boundaries of his grandfather’s good nature.
“Mr. Bishop,” the earl greeted evenly.
“Grandfather, might I request that Xenia be allowed to rest?” Simon interjected smoothly. “Our journey has been taxing, and she deserves some reprieve.”
“Of course.” The earl called to the butler waiting outside the doorway. “See to it that Lady Kinnerton is made comfortable.”
As Xenia left, Simon turned back to his grandfather, his spine stiffening with quiet resolve. “Might we speak privately?”
“Very well.” The earl gestured toward the hallway.
Simon fell into step beside his grandfather, steeling himself for the confrontation. The stakes were higher than ever—his marriage, his love, his future. Nothing his grandfather could do would null the marriage, but he could make their lives quite miserable in the future.
“Grandfather,” Simon began once they sat in the private study, the door closing with a definitive click behind them, “there is much we need to discuss.”
Lord Staplegrove settled behind his imposing mahogany desk, his penetrating gaze fixed on Simon as he took the seat opposite.
“A hasty marriage in Gretna Green, Kinnerton? Is she with child? That’s the only reason I can see that led you to bypass a settlement, which my solicitor should have handled.
And I know there is none, for the man would have informed me immediately if you requested one. ”
Simon met the old man’s eyes, a clear reflection of his own hazel gaze, yet tempered by years of authority. “I felt it was imperative that our union not be impeded by... external influences.”
“External influences?” The earl’s eyebrows arched skeptically.
“I’m fully aware you intended to approve or disprove my choice, whoever she might be. Xenia doesn’t have the pedigree you require. I chose to marry her despite what you might see as a failing.”
Lord Staplegrove leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, frowning. Silence stretched between them before he finally spoke again. “And what of her security? Without a dowry, there’s nothing to set aside for her. How do you plan to provide for her?”
“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.