Chapter 9

Sylvie's heart was soaring as her betrothed handed her into the gig for the trip home. But there was one nagging voice in the back of her mind that kept asking questions she couldn't answer.

Would her grandparents be able to take care of the farm without her?

Could they pay the quarterly rent without the money she was earning?

Would her parents finally return to England to care for her grandparents when Sylvie went to live with Kit?

Kit was driving with both hands, but one arm was entwined with Sylvie's and she held it tightly.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"How do you know something's wrong?" she countered, trying to make her voice light.

He bent his head toward hers. "Your fingernails are going to leave marks in my arm through my coat."

Sylvie immediately loosened her grip. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about the effect this marriage will have on us and our families."

"It's time for practicalities, then," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple, then straightening to watch the road. "Very well. What is your biggest worry?"

"My grandparents," she said without hesitation. She listed off her questions regarding their welfare and was surprised when he smiled.

"We can't predict what your parents might do, but once we're wed you'll only be next door. And so will I. We can work out how to ensure your grandparents won't be overwhelmed by work."

He said it in such a matter-of-fact way that her heart rate slowed almost to normal. "It's that easy?"

"That part is." He pressed his lips together, squinting at the small patch of road that was illuminated by the lamps hanging from either side of the gig. "My estate is not in the same financial health that it was when I offered for you the first time, but we can sit down with your grandparents and sort things out together. Pool our resources, even if it's not exactly how I'd originally planned."

A measure of relief flowed through her. She expected no less from this man than to care about the people important to her, else she wouldn't be marrying him. But it still felt good to hear the words aloud. "That's an excellent idea."

The questions in her mind didn't vanish, but they quieted enough that Sylvie could enjoy the rest of the drive. They decided to go to Kit's home first to unhitch the horses and put them to bed, then took the lanterns from the gig and walked the familiar path to Broadstone Farm.

As they approached the house, Sylvie became jittery, fairly bouncing up to the door.

"Nervous?" Kit asked, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

She squeezed back and grinned broadly. "Excited. They love you almost as much as I do, and I'm looking forward to telling them that you'll be their grandson by marriage."

They entered the house and found Grandmère and Grandpère in their usual places in front of the fire.

"We've returned," Sylvie said brightly as they came into the sitting room, "and we have news."

Grandpère was holding a small damask bag in his lap. "So do we." He eyed their clasped hands and grinned. "Let us tell our news first. Then we can spend the rest of the evening celebrating yours."

Sylvie's face warmed but Kit was standing tall, his chest puffed out proudly. "Certainly. What is your news?" she asked.

"We received an anniversary gift from the Duke of Alston," Grandpère told her, handing her the damask bag.

Sylvie released Kit's hand and took the bag, pulling open the draw strings. "These are gold guineas."

"Five of them," Grandmère chimed in. "One for each decade we have been married, the card said."

"Five guineas?" Sylvie repeated incredulously.

"Not enough to get us through a winter with no crops," Grandpère clarified, trying—and failing—to maintain a serious expression, "but between those, the sale of your animals, and our savings, we'll be able to pay the rent and have money left over."

"That's wonderful!" Sylvie exclaimed. "Kit, do you know what this means?"

Kit grinned broadly. "We can be married as soon as the banns are called?"

Grandmère sat up straighter in her chair. "Married?"

Sylvie looked to Kit then nodded, unable to keep the smile from returning to her face.

Grandmère jumped up from her chair and enveloped Sylvie in a warm embrace. "Oh, my sweet Sylvie, I'm so happy for you!"

Grandpère rose, too, and put an arm around Kit's shoulders. "I hope you have as many happy years together as we have."

Grandmère embraced Kit as well, jubilant tears in her eyes. "Oh yes! If you are as happy together as we have been, what a marvelous life you will have together."

After another round of hugs, they sat before the fire and made plans for a wedding later that autumn when the leaves would be deep oranges and reds. Kit wrote a letter to his mother and one to his brother, promising to keep them informed of the exact date when it was chosen.

But soon enough, Grandmère and Grandpère gave each other a knowing look and declared they were tired.

"You may stay for another hour, Christopher," Grandpère told him. "Anything left unsaid after that will have to wait until tomorrow."

"We will expect you for breakfast, though," Grandmère said cheerily. "And for supper, too."

Kit accepted both invitations, and Sylvie's grandparents went up to bed. Then at last, Sylvie was alone with her betrothed. The long day was wearing on her, but there was one thing she wanted to do before attempting to sleep.

"Kit," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist, "may I kiss you?"

"I wish you would," he murmured, sliding his arms around her shoulders.

She had to reach a bit, but she captured his lips once, twice, then slid her hands down to cup his backside as she kissed him a third time.

He drew back a fraction of an inch and grinned. "You remembered."

"I did," she said, matching his grin. "I want to learn all the contours of your body…and your heart."

"You know the contours of my heart already," he replied softly, caressing her cheek. "Tonight, when you said yes, I realized you've held my heart for far longer than I knew."

Her throat closed with emotion, and this time it was Sylvie who couldn't answer in words. Instead, she slid her arms around him and pulled him tightly against her, sighing with a contentment she didn't know was possible when he reciprocated.

"I love you," she managed to whisper.

"I love you, too," he whispered back.