Page 40 of Loving Mister Stratford
“Will we meet at the same time next week?”
“Certainly; though I will reiterate that it may be time for you to begin training with someone better able to keep up with your agility.”Master Monroe leaned in and winked at Odette.“He may have become more agile over the last fifteen years, but I, on the other hand, am a man past middling age at this point.”
“Nonsense,” Odette replied with a smile. The fencing master may have been near fifty years of age, but he seemed more hale and hardy than some men half his age. He had the lean figure and grace of someone who had spent many years honing his physical craft and perfecting his art. She didn’t doubt that Simon’s ability to best the fencing master had less to do with age than skill and practice. Her husband seemed to do nothing in half-measure.
“It is the truth,” the man replied, shaking the wrinkles from his coat before slipping it on.“Mr. Stratford has been outpacing me for years. For all his faculty with books, he’s equally talented with a rapier. But he’s nothing if not loyal—won’t overthrow me for a sparring partner less long in the tooth.”
Odette turned her warm smile on her husband. His dedication and unwavering loyalty were some of the things she found most enchanting and endearing about him. She also recognized Simon’s tendency to stay within his sphere of comfort—much easier to stay with a fencing master who had trained and challenged him for many years than seek out another who might not be so amiable.
“There’s something to be said for loyalty,” Odette said fondly with a tilt of her head.
“Indeed, there is.” The master clapped his hands and smiled, deep lines carving into the outer edges of his eyes.“If you’ll excuse me, I must be off. It was a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Stratford.”
“Likewise, Master Monroe.”
The smart clip of retreating boots followed the fencing master down the hall as he saw himself from the Townhouse, leaving just the two of them in the empty dining room filled with warm morning light. It took everything in Odette’s power to not stare openly at the swath of glistening flesh revealed by Simon’s gaping shirt collar. She cleared her throat as delicately as possible.
“I was about to break my fast; will you join me?”
Her heart sank at the reflexive half shake of his head, the hair several shades darker for the sweat from his exertion. When he opened his mouth to speak, however, he seemed just as surprised by the words as she.
“You know, I think I will.” His swirling eyes met hers, the brows above them arched in a quizzical display.
Odette’s lips bloomed into a smile.“Wonderful!”
“Allow me to freshen up and I’ll join you presently.” Simon, still seeming confused by his own acquiescence, gathered his things and retreated from the room. His brow was knit into a mixture of consternation and confusion as he attempted to puzzle out what had just happened.
For her part, Odette latched onto the small grain of hope. First, she and Simon had shared a pleasant evening in his study, trading morsels of food and companionable conversation—not to mention an unspeakably erotic encounter—and now he’d agreed to break his fast in her presence without any coercion. She’d count that as a tally in her“win” column of this marriage.
She practically floated from the room.
Chapter Fifteen
Much to Simon’s surprise, he and Odette settled into a new routine. With each passing day, he wondered if he’d gone about his intense need to be with Odette all wrong.
What if it hadn’t been as straightforward as claiming her and getting her out of his system like a simple slaking of carnality and baser urges?
What if keeping her close—having her in consistent, small doses—actually served to keep his mind more focused because it wasn’t being torn in too many directions at the same time?
Odette had joined him during his late night work on several occasions, most often when she was aware that he had been working for too many consecutive hours without a break or sustenance. In theory, it should have been annoying, distracting, or even mildly inconvenient. In reality, however, it was surprisingly pleasant to realize he didn’t have to be alone. There was something simply satisfying about having her in the same room; it helped to quell his fractured thoughts and comfort his racing brain.
Rather than interrupt him, she often read while reclining on the sofa near the hearth, always clothed comfortably in her nightshift and wrapper, her dainty bare toes peeking out from beneath the lacy hems. She’d brought with her several books of poetry she enjoyed and even made the silent effort to read an essay by Sir Nigel. Other nights, it seemed she saved her correspondence so she could craft her replies during their late-night sessions. More than once, she’d even helped him locate a book or particular note misplaced amongst his stacks of work. She was calm and patient when his mind worked so frantically that his skin fairly buzzed with it.
And she brought him food.
Odette had worked some sort of spell upon him. She managed to find a way to distract and redirect him enough that he didn’t realize he’d finished the plates she so carefully fixed for him until she was removing them from his desk and out of the way of his work.
She knew him.
He might not be the most perceptive man, but he recognized when the effort someone put in was above and beyond the norm. Never before had someone taken such an interest in him as a person, and with such honest, earnest intention. Odette with her silent and supportive presence made Simon more seen and heard than he’d ever felt in his life.
She didn’t mind when he rambled to himself, repeating phrases and numbers and sequences as a way to think through a problem. She didn’t mock him or grow annoyed if he became so lost in a thought that he stared off into the air for an hour at a time.
He’d never experienced such peace.
Another week passed in this pleasant fashion until the letters and invitations began to arrive. Gone was the safety and silence of their solitary little world. Thetonhad waited its requisite period before infiltrating their household with sealed envelopes and calling cards. It began slowly at first and then picked up its pace as soon as Society concluded that it was now appropriate to call upon the newlyweds. And Simon knew the newly-minted Mrs. Stratford was an object of interest to their prying eyes and nosy ways.
Of course, he found his wife fascinating and enthralling…he also wasn’t unkind enough to take the stance that she wouldn’t be deemed a new gem in the trove of the elite; however, he was pragmatic enough to recognize that a great deal of the interest likely stemmed from the fact that she washiswife.
