Vincent remained frozen, his large hand still pinning Penelope’s soft palm against his forehead.

He watched her through half-lidded eyes, his expression a mixture of intense concentration and sheer bewilderment. To Penelope, he looked less like a legendary war commander and more like a confused kitten, one that had tried to pounce on its own reflection and somehow become trapped in the curtains afterward.

What is so funny? He wondered, his heart thumping a frantic, irregular rhythm against his ribs. Did I say something silly? Is this not how the ritual of checking a temperature is concluded?

Desperately, Vincent searched through the scattered ruins of his memory for any manual or social etiquette, remotely applicable to this situation. But his life had been spent learning how to dismantle men, not how to be comforted by a woman. Every second her hand remained on his skin, he felt more of his icy resolve melting into something dangerously warm and pliable.

A hint of irritation surfaced behind his confusion. If he was doing this incorrectly, shouldn’t she simply tell him so?

Meanwhile, outside the carriage, the welcoming committee was beginning to lose its patience.

Martha stood with her arms crossed, her expression as flat and unreadable as a tombstone. Beside her, Elias shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing at the silent carriage door with a mixture of professional concern and personal exhaustion.

"...Do you think they’re going to come down anytime soon?" Martha asked, her voice devoid of any inflection.

Elias let out a long, weary sigh, one that seemed to carry the weight of every secret he had ever kept for the Marquis.

"I have no idea," he admitted, rubbing a hand tiredly across his face. "But knowing His Lordship, trust me when I say, we may still be standing here when the Moon rises if he finds a reason to remain inside."

Martha stared at the carriage a moment longer.

"...Should we be concerned?"

"With the Marquis?" he replied immediately. "Yes. Always."

Back in the carriage, the sound of Penelope’s laughter finally began to taper off. She took a shuddering breath, her face flushed a beautiful, rosy pink from the exertion of mirth.

Vincent stared at her in complete silence, his eyes dark and heavy with a quiet, consuming intensity

She looked so beautiful that it required nearly all of his remaining restraint not to simply reach out, drag her into his lap, and kiss her senseless then and there. Considering how rudely they had been interrupted the night before, the idea of picking up exactly where they had left off sounded entirely justified.

The carriage was small, private, and blessedly free of unnecessary interruptions.

"Uhm... Vincent," Penelope managed to say, her voice still trembling with remnants of her giggles. "You can let go now."

She glanced meaningfully toward the hand still holding hers firmly against his forehead.

"I think... I think your temperature is perfectly fine."

Unfortunately for her, Vincent no longer possessed the slightest interest in releasing her hand.

In fact, he was beginning to think he might remain seated here indefinitely if it meant prolonging her touch another few minutes. He liked the cool contrast of her skin against his, liked the way she didn’t pull away even when he was acting entirely irrational. But before he could devise a remotely dignified excuse for continuing to hold her hostage, Penelope spoke again.

"There... is something I wish to discuss with you."

Vincent’s attention sharpened immediately.

"But let us get down first, alright? Come."

Reluctantly, and painfully, Vincent loosened his grip. He made no effort to hide the sheer disappointment tightening his features as she slipped her small hand out of his. He actually missed the warmth of her touch the exact second it was gone, a cold, empty ache settling heavily behind his ribs.

This was precisely what he had been afraid of, but he swallowed the rising unease, clinging tightly to the tattered remnant of his self-restraint.

Vincent reached over and pushed the carriage door open, the sudden flood of the bright afternoon light cutting through the dim, intimate haze in the cabin.

Outside, Elias and Martha immediately straightened their postures, their perfectly blank professional masks snapping into place the moment the Marquis made his appearance. Before either of them could offer their formal greetings, another figure appeared seemingly from nowhere near the grand entrance of the estate.

It was the head butler.

One moment the staircase stood empty, the next, the older man was already descending it with flawless composure, his polished shoes clicking softly against the stone as he swept a bow so elegant, and too perfect, it looked entirely designed to upstage everyone else.

"Welcome home, My Lord. My Lady," the butler intoned, his deep voice carrying flawlessly across the courtyard.

At his signal, the rows of lower servants lining the driveway bowed simultaneously in perfect unison, like a carefully choreographed wave.

Elias blinked slowly.

Then narrowed his eyes.

"When did he get here ? He was not even standing with us a moment ago," he muttered under his breath, glaring at the back of the butler’s pristine coat.

Martha remained unmoved.

"He has a radar for the master’s arrival," she replied calmly, barely moving her lips. "You have monopolized His Lordship’s presence all day. Allow the old man to have his little victory."

Elias looked deeply offended by this logic.

Meanwhile, Vincent ignored the domestic squabble entirely. He stepped down from the carriage first, the gravel crunching beneath his heavy boots. The moment his feet hit the ground, he turned right back around, extending his palm upward to Penelope.

Penelope smiled softly, placing her hand back into his broad palm.

The moment her slippers touched the gravel, Penelope lifted her gaze toward the head butler standing by.

He had been the very first person to welcome her to the estate on the night of her wedding with Vincent. Though admittedly, she had barely managed more than a greeting before the man holding her hand had all but abducted her directly to their chambers afterwards.

"Glad to see you two returned safely together," the butler said, his formal tone wavering just enough to reveal the genuine anxiety that had been keeping him awake.

When he had realized the new Lady of the house had gone missing from under his nose, the poor man had spent the night mentally drafting his own will. He could only pray that the Lord of the House would spare his head, considering the fact that he had failed his most crucial duty, and that was to keep Penelope safe within the estate walls.

"Yes, everything is fine now," Penelope reassured him, her voice warm and steady. Then, to the silent shock of everyone present, she boldly stepped closer to the Marquis and wrapped both her arms around his sleeve without the slightest hesitation. She looked up at her brooding husband, her eyes twinkling with a brilliant, playful light.

"Isn’t that right, Vincent?"

A heavy silence descended instantly across the courtyard.

Vincent lowered his gaze slowly, staring down at the hands wrapped securely around his arm before looking up to meet her eyes.

In truth, his mind had already been calculating the punishments for the guards and the staff who had allowed her to slip away. Ordinarily, such negligence would never have gone unanswered. He had fully intended to deal with their catastrophic failure the moment they stepped inside. But with Penelope looking up at him like this—her eyes bright and her body pressed against his side—the icy resolve in his chest entirely disintegrated.

He glanced back at the butler, then at the servants and guards lining the courtyard.It was no wonder the staff had arranged such a ridiculously grand, overly polite welcome.

They were quite, practically begging for their lives. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

With a soft clear of his throat, Vincent suppressed the urge to sigh. For Penelope’s sake, he could let their incompetence slide. Just this once. After all, he had technically gained something from the disaster as well.

After a long, agonizing minute, Vincent gave a single, stiff nod of agreement.

"Yeah," he said at last.

Penelope could literally feel the collective wave of relief that washed over the courtyard the exact moment his chin moved. It was as if fifty people had all exhaled at the exact same time.

The butler’s rigid shoulders visibly dropped an inch, and Penelope could not help feeling relieved herself. She would have hated knowing the staff suffered for her own actions.

"Let’s go," Vincent said to Penelope, right after dismissing the lingering staff with a sharp flick of his fingers.

Penelope replied with a soft nod, keeping her arms tightly woven through his as she followed him up the grand, marble staircase.

Down below, the butler, Elias and Martha stood in a tight huddle, watching the couple’s retreating backs until their figures disappeared around the landing.

"I guess having a new Lady in the Devereux estate isn’t so bad after all, wouldn’t you agree?" the butler remarked, a rare, genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He glanced sideways at Elias, expecting a sharp retort, but Elias only replied with a silent, heavy glare.

It was an empty protest, really. Elias knew the old man was entirely right this time. Penelope had done the impossible, and he was certain that with her presence in the estate, she would be able to keep the Marquis under control.

"If His Lordship is happy," Elias said quietly, his gaze lingering on the empty staircase with a fierce, quiet loyalty, "so am I."

Martha rolled her eyes at the sudden display of sentimentality, a faint huff escaping her lips. Without a word, she simply excused herself, turning back to her duties with her usual nonchalant strides.

Upstairs, the heavy doors of the master chamber clicked shut, sealing Vincent and Penelope away from the rest of the world.

The room was cool, smelling faintly of cedar and the lavender Penelope favored. It seemed the butler had gotten busy in their absence. It must’ve been a coincidence, since she loved the smell of lavender. She would ensure they used the fragrance more often now.

"You said there was something you wanted to discuss with me," Vincent said suddenly, his grey eyes locking onto hers with absolute focus. "What was it?"