Three months of bliss was not enough. Luckily, they had their entire lives, but Simon doubted decades with Mina would satisfy this longing. At times, the strength of it stunned him. He’d gone from being his own man to being a servant to this need. The change had come without warning, and Simon felt like falling on his knees and praising the Almighty that it had.
Simon loved his wife. His Mina.
The marriage of convenience that had proved most inconvenient at times had grown into something far stronger and deeper than “love.” Those four little letters could not contain the emotions thrumming in Simon’s heart.
“What is that smile for?” asked Mina.
Turning his eyes from the horses for the barest of moments, Simon met her gaze and said, “I am so very happy, my love.”
Her hand rose to his face, and the soft leather of her glove brushed his skin. She gave him no words in response, but the warmth in her gaze filled him until he no longer felt the crisp winter air nipping at his cheeks. But one of the horses nickered, and Simon turned his attention back to the task at hand. All the love in the world would do no good if he overturned their carriage.
“You are shivering,” he said, glancing in her direction.
But Mina merely smiled. “I could never be chilly when so close to you.”
Simon grinned in response but turned the pair home. As much as he wished to spend the entirety of their day out in this felicity, he wasn’t about to let her catch cold. Even with the warm bricks and blankets he’d procured for the drive, their journey could not last indefinitely.
Avebury Park appeared far sooner than Simon would’ve liked, but he supposed it was no great loss, either. Though there were duties aplenty to commandeer their attention, perhaps he could convince Mina to throw it all over and enjoy an indoor picnic with him. Lazing about as they ate Mrs. White’s delectable treats and enjoyed each other’s company was about as perfect an afternoon as Simon could wish for. Mina could paint as he read.
Directing the horses towards the stable, Simon tossed the reins to one of the grooms as a pair came forward to take charge of the carriage. He alighted and turned to give Mina a hand down; there was such a light in her eyes as she watched him, as though she held some secret mirth, and Simon marveled that this lovely creature was his wife.
Before releasing her hand, he turned it over and placed a kiss on her palm. Mina’s cheeks were already bright as cherries from the cold wind, but she ducked her head in the manner she always did when blushing. Nudging up her chin to meet his gaze, Simon felt the world fade into darkness around them, but before he could make a move, it was Mina who closed the distance and pressed her lips to his.
Simon’s arms came around her, and Mina held him with equal fervor. He had enough rational thought left to keep the kiss from becoming far more heated than was seemly, even if the servants were trying to remain invisible. Though poets had expounded at length about the power of a lady’s touch, they hadn’t captured the unutterable joy that accompanied Mina’s touch.
Breaking free, Simon remained close to her, his feet and legs tangled among her skirts. Holding her gaze, he found an equal measure of passion burning there as well. Simon tucked her arm in his and led her to the house, sucking in a deep breath and allowing the chill air to calm the blaze in his chest.
*
Forcing herself to keep a moderate pace, Mina refused to run back to the house. Simon watched her, and giddiness surged through her. Would she ever tire of seeing him gaze upon her with such longing? Whatever fantasies she’d constructed in her younger years, Mina had never been able to truly imagine what it felt like to have such intensity focused on her.
With his free hand, Simon opened the front door, and all thoughts of her husband evaporated at the sight of the servants scrambling about. At the foot of the stairs sat several trunks, and a touch of the winter’s chill settled into her heart.
They had visitors?
Simon helped her with her cloak and bonnet, and Mina called out to their housekeeper as she hurried past the entryway.
“Thank goodness you’ve returned, madam,” said Mrs. Witmore, coming to Mina’s side and directing a passing footman to take their master and mistress’s things. “A gentleman, claiming to be a friend of Mr. Kingsley, arrived not a quarter of an hour ago. Mr. Lewis Finch. Jennings admitted him, and we are readying the Garden Room for him while he freshens up in the Yellow Room.”
There was an unspoken question in the housekeeper’s gaze, asking whether or not she’d done the correct thing, and Mina gave her a nod. “Thank you, Mrs. Witmore. I do apologize for the upset this has caused, but I have no doubt you will have everything in order shortly.”
With as much decorum as could be allotted for such activity, Mrs. Witmore hurried off to direct the maids in their work.
Mina turned to her husband. “Mr. Finch is staying with us?”
Simon gave a pained smile. “He always visits for a couple of months in the winter. I had meant to tell you, but it slipped my mind.”
Months. Not a mere fortnight or two, but months. Though Mina could not claim to have ever spoken to Mr. Finch directly, his words remained fixed in her memory. Mousy and unattractive. The perfect workhorse for Simon’s intended marriage of convenience, too on-the-shelf and desperate to think of rejecting such a cold and calculating arrangement.
“What is the matter, Mina? I apologize for not speaking to you about it sooner, but I truly forgot he was coming,” said Simon, his brows pulled tight together.
Mina’s shoulders began moving in a dismissive shrug, but she held it back, fighting against old habits that demanded she ignore the churning in her stomach. No, this was Simon, and she would not lie to him.
“I do wish I’d had some warning, but I understand it wasn’t intentional,” said Mina. Simon kept a firm grip on her hand, and she twisted her other in her skirts. “I will admit I am not overjoyed at having another of your guests descend on Avebury Park. The last time did not fare well for us.”
Simon already had the pale complexion of one born and raised in Britain, but he grew ashen, his dark eyes widening as he stared at her.
“I hadn’t thought,” he murmured, his eyes darting around the entryway. Then Simon drew close, his gaze fixing on hers. “You have nothing to fear, Mina. I promise I will never allow you to suffer such treatment ever again. Should you wish for me to toss Finch out, I will do so. Without hesitation.”
