Page 97 of Sir Hugo Seeks a Wife
“Athene?”Hugo asked.
She realized that she was staring at her husband and daughter in helpless adoration.Not an unusual occurrence.She blinked and brought herself back to the present.“It’s silly to be nervous, isn’t it?”
“As silly as Sylvie,” Hugo said, which made his daughter giggle.
“Open it, Mamma,” Sylvie said.
With shaking hands, Athene tore the wrapping to reveal a slim volume bound in rich red morocco leather and printed with gold lettering.“Oh…”
Hugo released Sylvie and slid his arm around Athene’s waist.“Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Yes, it is,” Athene sighed, stroking the binding and feeling the embossed writing under her fingers.
“‘A Yorkshire Garland: Poems by Athene, Lady Brinsmead,’” Hugo read.
Since marrying Hugo, Athene had continued to write.This new life was too inspiring for her to remain silent.So she wrote about her family and her love for Hugo and the spectacular landscape that provided a frame for all her blessings.
Last year, Hugo had encouraged her to seek a publisher and to her delight, John Murray, Lord Byron’s publisher, had taken her on.This volume in her hands was an advance copy.The book would be on sale next month.
A fit of jitters had made her hesitate before opening the parcel.What if she was disappointed after all the work and hope and excitement?Now she couldn’t stop touching the book.“I’m ridiculously proud of myself.”
Hugo grunted with amusement and pressed his lips to her temple.“So you should be.I’m proud of you, too.You’re a brilliant poet, my darling.Now the whole world will agree with me.”
She opened the cover.“I’ve got something to show you.”
“Oh?”His surprise was understandable, given that he’d read multiple versions of every poem already.
She flicked through the first few pages, pausing at the frontispiece where she could hardly believe that she saw her name in print.The next page was the dedication.“Here.”
Hugo took the book.“‘To the finest man in the world, my beloved husband Hugo Brinsmead, who inspires every piece of my life and my work.’”
“Athene, I’m not worthy,” he said, his voice gruff.
“Of course you are.”When she saw how genuinely moved he was, her throat constricted and she blinked away a mist of tears.“Those words don’t even come near to expressing how much I love you and how grateful I am that you found me and made me yours.”
“Here we go, William,” Sylvie said in a long-suffering voice from the corner, where the baby continued in blissful ignorance of the emotion swelling inside the room.“They’re going to start cuddling, then there’s no sense to be got out of them for the rest of the day.”
Athene had been about to kiss Hugo, but Sylvie’s remark made her burst out laughing.William’s gurgle sounded like agreement.William found his sister of abiding interest, and the feeling was reciprocated.Athene had worried that Sylvie might be jealous of the new arrival, but from the beginning, she designated herself her little brother’s champion.
“Get used to it, you impossible child,” Athene said.
Sylvie glanced back with a wry expression.“You’re going to want to be alone soon, aren’t you?”
Hugo was laughing, too.“You’re a little too knowing, miss.”
Athene met Hugo’s bright blue gaze.She did want to be alone with him.She wanted to show him how sincerely she meant that dedication.
As if on cue, Charity Grey appeared in the doorway with Alice, William’s nursemaid, behind her.“Did the book come?”
Charity had become a dear friend, and she was well aware of all the hopes and dreams wrapped up in the small book that Athene held.
“Yes.Here it is.”Athene held the poems out to the governess, who made suitably impressed comments as Alice bundled William up and took him upstairs.Sylvie joined Miss Grey in scanning the book and pronounced it just perfect.
“You have a very clever mamma,” Hugo said, his arm around Athene as he observed his daughter’s pleasure in the collection.
“Clever enough to know a good man when she saw one,” Athene murmured in his ear.
Charity held her hand out to Sylvie.“Shall we let your clever mamma take her time looking at her book, while you and I go out and count the wildflowers in the woods?”
