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Marion was filled with a jolt of panic. She had not thought about the kiss! She felt sweat rising at the back of her dress, her skin sticking to her gown. She was suddenly very aware of the heaviness of her own hands. She tried to remember every time she had witnessed Eleanor kiss Nathan; what did Eleanor normally do when she was kissed? Was there an exact protocol that should be followed? But Simon was already lifting her veil back over her head, and then placing his hands on her shoulders.
Simon leaned towards her and Marion’s eyes fluttered closed before she could think about it, his lips meeting hers with a gentle, warm push. Marion kissed him back. For a moment, her brain stilled all its anxious thoughts and the only sounds in her body were the rushing of her blood and the heavy beating of her heart.
Then, Simon pulled away. The church had erupted into cheers and applause, Nathan was grinning nearby and Eleanor had tears running down her face, but Simon was only staring at her. There was a slight frown between his eyebrows, and for a horrible moment Marion wondered if she had somehow done a bad job at her first kiss. But then she saw the way he quickly licked his lips before turning to lead her down the aisle, hand in hand.
It was a look of confusion she had seen, surprise even. Perhaps he had simply not expected to be kissed back, but Marion felt sure it was something deeper than that. It was in the firm grip of his hand on hers, and the way he placed his hand on her lower back to help her into the carriage outside amid the spray of rice and confetti. Whatever she had felt between them the moment their lips had met, he had felt it too. She was sure of it.
Chapter Eight
“We are nearly there,” Simon said quietly as he and Marion sat in the coach, riding gently to the Reading estate.
Marion had barely spoken a word since they had left their wedding breakfast. She had been gracious and bright at the table, talking and laughing with Nathan and Eleanor, who had generously agreed to host the wedding breakfast in lieu of Marion’s own family home. Then, when the time had come to depart, she had fallen a little quieter, watching her trunks being loaded onto the carriage and holding Eleanor’s hand so tightly Simon had worried that his new wife wouldn’t consent to climb into the carriage with him.
When the moment came for them to depart, he had approached her awkwardly, hoping that he wouldn’t be forced to demand her presence, but she had surprised him. She hugged Eleanor tightly but released her quickly, stepping up into the carriage with glassy eyes but a face free of tears. Simon had expected her to gaze longingly from the carriage window, or perhaps wave frantically as she left the only family she had ever really known, but she didn’t. She had sat, silent and quiet, as they crossed the many miles to the Reading estate.
Now, as they were pulled through the parkland, Simon took the chance to point out a few things in the grounds.“This is the trout pond,” he said, gesturing out of the window, “and the woodland beyond where we sometimes find truffles.”
“Does anyone live here on the estate?” Marion asked quietly.
“Yes,” Simon nodded, encouraged that she was speaking finally, after so many hours. “There is a small abbey here on the estate, and a cottage in the woodland. My stable master lives there with his family.”
“How beautiful to live in such pretty woodland,” Marion commented, looking out of the window.
“I am glad that you like it.”
“And does your mother live here with you?”
“No, she stays at Reading House in Town,” Simon said. “Though she frequently visits.”
Though she will not visit me when you are in the house,Simon thought sadly.
His mother had barely spoken all morning, and had even threatened not to make an appearance at the wedding when he had told her that he had officially proposed to Marion. He could still recall her bitter words.
This will all come to ruination, mark my words, son!
“I imagine your mother has considerable reservations about me,” Marion said quietly.
“She is - she has … concerns.” Simon tried to hedge his bets, trying not to give Marion the impression that his mother had more than considerable reservations. The things she had said about Marion had been truly cutting.
She’s the help, Simon. It’s as if you took off with the scullery maid! What kind of pedigree, what kind of breeding does she have? What kind of heirs will she provide?
“She does not like me,” Marion said, and Simon felt the smart of her uncanny ability to cut to the quick of the problem. “I understand. You do not have to pretend.”
“I …” Simon didn’t know what to say. He could not lie to his new wife, especially since his mother was unlikely to keep her disapproval to herself.
“I think it is only that she does not know you.”
“You mean, as a lady who might marry her son,” Marion corrected gently. “For we have been acquainted for many years.”
Simon was uncomfortable, but of course Marion was right. The issue was not that she was unknown to his family, it was that she had never been considered under these terms before. It would be strange for Marion to go from a friendly acquaintance with his mother as Eleanor’s companion, to an acrimonious relationship with a mother-in-law who would never find her good enough.
“I am sorry if her lack of cordiality hurts you,” Simon said quietly.
“She cannot be expected to adjust immediately.” Marion sighed, but smiled at Simon with warmth.“But perhaps she will change, with time.”
Silently, Simon thought the only way his mother’s mind would be changed was if Marion produced a line of strong, healthy boy heirs. Then, when one of them was finally of an age to confirm the earldom for generations to come, his mother might forgive Marion for her low birth.
“My goodness,” Marion breathed, her eyes wide as the carriage drew toward the front of the house. Reading Estate was beautiful in the afternoon light, the grey stone of the fourteenth century house calming and austere, rising sternly with a crenellated facade. Despite living there his whole life, Simon never failed to be filled with quiet love when he saw the vista of his home appearing behind the woodland.
