Chapter Text
As Michaela laid in bed with Francesca, basking in the first streaks of sunlight as the early hours of dawn crept in, she couldn’t help but smile at her wife. Francesca was cuddled into her side, body intertwined with hers and fingertips playing with the ring on Michaela’s finger as they held each other close. Francesca smiled up at her when Michaela kissed the ring on Francesca’s middle finger. To the rest of the world, it was just a piece of jewelry they both wore on a finger that meant nothing of consequence, but they knew the truth. It had been a year since they exchanged those vows to one another, promising forever, and slipping rings on one another’s fingers. Michaela remembered it like it was yesterday. She had been so nervous to even propose in the first place. Michaela Stirling was not one to believe in marriage. She had seen enough women forced into the societal practice and dealt horrific hands by marrying horrible men that she told herself, and plenty of others, that she would never engage in such a thing. She would never marry, not even another woman. Francesca changed that for her though. She wanted everything with her and she was nervous when she proposed, hands fidgeting and ring stuffed under the pillowcase she had hidden it under when Francesca strolled into the bedroom earlier than she expected. Francesca was surprised when Michaela proposed, assuming such a thing could never be in the cards for them, but her bright smile let Michaela know how much she wanted it too. Michaela remembered how it all felt, wrapped up in one another by the fire, both with rings to place on one another’s finger and vows written only for them.
“When I was a child, my mother used to tell me and John stories about the north star. The two of us would listen to her and then go run outside to try to find it. When I first started traveling, John reminded me that the north star would always help me find my way home, my way back to him. Back then, I was so lost. I wandered aimlessly in hopes of finding myself and when I would come home, he would ask me if I used the north star to find my way back that time. John knew me better than I knew myself but I always knew what he was asking. Was I home for good? Did I find my way back for good? The answer was always no and after he died, I thought it always would be. When I was in India, I started to wonder if I would always be lost, if maybe John had been my north star all along. It wasn’t until I made my way back to you that I knew I was home. Francesca, you are my north star. It does not matter where we are, here, London, wherever you want to go in life, as long as I have you, I will never be lost again. I promise to love you forever. I vow it with my heart and soul. With this ring, I vow to be yours and yours alone, your wife, always.” Francesca smiled even more when Michaela used her thumb to wipe away a tear from Francesca’s cheek.
“Michaela, you are everything I would have asked for, if I would have known what to ask for in the first place. I have always felt out of place. I feel like I have spent so much of my life trying to figure out what I need, who I am, and how to ask for what will make me whole but I could never find the right question. I have seven siblings and none of them, not even through their experiences in life and love, could ever help me truly understand what it meant to be in love in the way I love you. If I had known how amazing it would be to be loved by you and to love you so passionately, I would not have been so scared, so quick to cling to duty and treat my emotions like flaws I had to fix within myself over and over again. You are everything I could have ever asked for in a love and so much more than I could have ever even thought to imagine for myself. I promise to love you forever. I vow it with my heart and soul. With this ring, I vow to be yours and yours alone, your wife, always.”
That was the first of many nights they spent making love until the sun came up and reveling in the feeling of belonging to one another forever. Their life together in Scotland was better than anything either could have ever imagined. Michaela had been told stories of women who managed to sneak off to the countryside together and live as lovers. For some, it was similar to their love, a widow who society had deemed acceptable in her choices to not wed again and was left to her own devices. Michaela was considered on the shelf as a spinster long before she met Francesca and the culture and societal norms in Scotland were different from England. Her travels and time away for so many years established her choice to not marry. Once she became Countess of Kilmartin, the focus turned to her managing of the estate, not on marriage, and, while some in the Stirling Klan questioned what the next generations would look like if a child was not born into the family, Michaela assured them her will would make it clear how Stirling House and the Kilmartin Estate would be passed down to whoever she deemed proper at that time. Her handling of the estate appeased her family the most though and it was learned quite quickly by her family that Michaela was business savvy in ways they had overlooked.
Michaela never expected to enjoy running the Kilmartin Estate as much as she did but it helped that Francesca anchored it in something real for her. The castle became their bubble, a safe haven for them to be themselves and love one another without worrying about society’s judgment or restrictions. Mrs. Oliver was the head of the staff and she made sure any member of the staff was one that could be trusted, handled their job with discretion, and could be seen as a valued part of keeping the castle in the best of shape. Michaela realized that while she never considered it much before, Mrs. Oliver had always been looking out for her and was very good at making sure she had everything she needed to live her life the way she saw fit. The staff not only held Michaela in high regard but regarded Francesca as the lady of the house. It was a role she fell into effortlessly and had plenty of past experience with. Michaela often teased Mrs. Oliver that Francesca was her favorite and, while Mrs. Oliver assured her that was not true, it was clear the staff adored her. Michaela and Francesca had a wonderful life at the castle and both couldn’t have been happier. Michaela groaned when Francesca kissed her sweetly before rolling out of bed to get dressed for the day.
“Stay in bed a while longer,” whined Michaela.
“We are not missing breakfast again because you are being insatiable.” Michaela scoffed.
“Me? I did not see you complaining yesterday. In fact, I remember the exact opposite with plenty of loud cries of approval at my plan to stay in bed.” She giggled when Francesca playfully glared at her.
“I have no clue what you speak of, now get up. Isn’t Graham supposed to arrive after we break our fast?” Michaela rolled her eyes and sighed as she got out of bed.
“Yes, yes, fine. I suppose I do need to speak with him.”
“And you should speak with Cal about the new carriage. I am sure he will have plenty of ideas about which one would be best.”
“There is always something to do here. Doesn’t everyone know all I want is to stay in bed all day and night with my beautiful wife?” she asked as she pulled Francesca back into her arms. Francesca giggled.
“Well, if we get our tasks done, maybe I will make sure you get plenty of time with her tonight,” she said before giving her a kiss and wink.
“Promises, promises,” teased Michaela.
After breakfast, Michaela went to speak with Cal about making arrangements to see some potential new carriages, much to his relief. The current carriage was an older model than some of the ones he had seen in town and had been worn down from the sheer amount of travel Michaela demanded from it. While Michaela humored Cal and his excited talk of new transportation, Francesca walked around the castle with Mrs. Oliver, discussing what needed to be tended to and improvements that could be made. With the winter months behind them and spring in full swing, the grounds were thawed out and plans were being made for the summer.
“Can we expect a visit from your mother this summer?” asked Mrs. Oliver. She giggled when Francesca glanced over at her.
“You must think I am a horrible daughter for putting it off as long as I have.”
“Of course not, London is a long ways away and quite different from the Highlands. I am sure you have your reasons, but as a mother myself, I assure you all she wants is to make sure you are happy. It may come off as prying but it truly is well-intentioned.”
“She did mention wanting some sort of family time this summer in her last letter. I will write to her to ask her to consider what she would prefer for that to look like. I do miss my siblings. Maybe a trip to London now that the season is over or meeting at the countryside estate will be in order.”
“As long as you are back in time for the first birthday of Rory and Annie’s little one in September, I see no conflicts to consider.”
“Yes, of course, we must be in attendance for Abigail’s birthday,” she agreed. They were greeted by one of the maids, Bridget, and their cook, Edith, as they entered the kitchen.
“Morning, ma’am,” greeted Bridget.
“Morning, I was just about to ask Mrs. Oliver how the new cast iron pots are working out,” said Francesca. Edith smiled warmly at her.
“They are wonderful. Thank you. They have come in handy,” said Edith.
“Of course, my mother always makes it clear that a staff can only work with what they have been given in resources. If there is anything else that would make it easier in the kitchen, please let me know,” said Francesca. She noticed Edith and Bridget glance at Mrs. Oliver, who rolled her eyes.
“What is it?” asked Francesca.
“Nothing, they are being spoiled is what they are being,” said Mrs. Oliver. Edith scoffed.
“Well, she is offering,” reminded Edith.
“And I assure you it is not spoiling, not in the least. You do so much for us and our home, the least we can do is make sure everything is adequate. What am I missing?” asked Francesca. Mrs. Oliver gave a nod and Edith and Bridget happily hurried over to Francesca.
“My lady, have you ever heard of a Rumford Stove and Range?” asked Edith. Francesca slowly nodded.
“Yes, I believe my mother had one placed in Bridgerton House recently. She wrote about it in a letter. It was apparently an ordeal to put in place but the kitchen staff love it. Is that something that could be of use here?” Bridget and Edith nodded.
“Yes, ma’am, especially during the winter months. It will help keep the kitchen warm and make it easier to prepare meals,” explained Edith. Francesca nodded her understanding.
“I will speak with Michaela about it,” she assured.
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Edith.
“Of course,” she said. Bridget and Edith giggled as Mrs. Oliver playfully rolled her eyes at them again. Francesca followed Mrs. Oliver into the drawing room next. She looked up at the portrait of her and John and felt the nagging at the back of her mind that she had as of late when she saw the framed picture. It was one of her favorites in the house, but also one of the only portraits in the house altogether.
“What is it, ma’am?” asked Mrs. Oliver as she followed her gaze.
“It is nothing. Well…I suppose it is something. I…well…can I ask for your honest opinion on a matter of importance to me but probably no one else?” Mrs. Oliver giggled.
“I doubt it is of no importance to others but sure.”
“When you look around this room, what do you think?” Mrs. Oliver looked around the dark room full of antique furniture and trinkets.
“It is proper,” she stated. Francesca sighed and nodded as she looked around the room.
“Yes, it is indeed proper but does it feel like Michaela and I live here?”
“Ah, I see,” said Mrs. Oliver as she looked around again.
“Please do not misunderstand. I fell in love with the castle the moment John first showed it to me but I want this place to feel like a home Michaela and I are making together as well.”
“It most certainly could use a woman’s touch. To be fair, the only thing John had added before your arrival was the portrait of the two of you. Everything you see here is from past Earls of Kilmartin.”
“I suppose John was never one for home decorating.”
“Or ruffling feathers. The Kilmartin name holds great prestige and honor in these parts. I believe at times it felt like more of weight than he would have liked. It was almost as if he were afraid to change anything out of fear of it being seen as an affront to tradition.”
“And do you believe that to be the case?”
“It has always been expected that each earl will make the estates their own. I see no reason why you and the countess would not be expected to do the same.” Mrs. Oliver watched as a small smile played on Francesca’s lips and delight danced in her eyes as she looked around the drawing room again.
“A few touches here and there could truly brighten the room. Michaela and I both favor blue in decor. Maybe a change to the curtains and some updated furniture could be just the thing for hosting, especially if my mother is to come for a visit.” Mrs. Oliver giggled.
“All very reasonable changes. Ma’am, may I be frank?”
“Of course, please.”
“I appreciate the approach the two of you have taken since arriving back at the castle, doing your best to honor John’s memory and the legacy of Kilmartin, but it is your legacy as well and sometimes I do wonder if the two of you truly realize what was inherited.”
“What do you mean?”
“It used to not be as uncommon but it is still rare for an heiress to inherit such a title and the fortune that comes with it. John always believed in a conservative touch but plenty of earls were known to splurge and spend on the estate and beyond. I know Michaela is currently meeting with the steward to go over the finances. Maybe it is time you two consider renovating as you see fit. I assure you, as someone who managed the cottage for years, it is within your budget. Spending on cast iron pots did not impact your finances. The Rumford stove and range may be a bigger splurge though,” she teased. Francesca giggled.
“This place truly could use a woman’s touch,” she agreed as she continued to look around.
Michaela sat back in her chair in the study as Graham outlined his assessment of the finances for the entire estate of Kilmartin. While Michaela focused mainly on the castle, the estate was much larger and she hired a new steward after her first meeting with the old one was off-putting. The older gentleman did not seem to take her suggestions seriously and she had little patience for his arrogance and demeanor. Graham was younger, had a manner about him that let her know he respected her, and had an analytical mind that she was impressed with.
“Overall, the estate is doing very well and has plenty of funds, many that have gone unspent for years. If I am being honest, the business could be managed more efficiently. Kilmartin has been handled quite conservatively in the past. I understand that your cousin wanted to focus more on his funding from Parliament as a source of income but London has plenty of investments to consider as well for the estate.”
“I agree. Let us look into more investments and dividends in industries booming in England, specifically London. I have it on good authority from some family friends that finance, shipping, and printing are valuable investments at the moment. Let us start there.” He gave an impressed nod.
“I could not agree more. I must admit, your knowledge of such things is quite admirable.”
“You mean for a countess?”
“No, for anyone. I assure you I care not about you being a woman. I have met plenty of dukes who could barely balance their wages and plenty of baronesses who could invest circles around them. I see my job as your steward as simple. I want you to get the most potential as possible out of your estate. Kilmartin has always been known more for its focus on the estates in the Highlands and Glasgow than in investments and dividends but changing that could sure up funds for generations.”
“I could not agree more. My travels have produced many good tips, especially my time in India. I understand the value in focusing on the estate income but agree that we can expand. Stirlings should leave a legacy, not simply rest on the laurels of past generations. With that said, how are the estates producing?”
“Quite well. However, I was surprised to find you have received an inquiry from a buyer. A man came by the estate office requesting information on an estate in one of the shires.” She smirked.
“He must be mad to ask such a thing of the estate in Glasgow.”
“Not Glasgow, ma’am, the estate outside of Aberdeenshire.”
“Outside of Aberdeen? The land my uncle bought years ago?”
“It appears plans were initially in the works for it but they hit a stalemate once your cousin joined Parliament and focused his attention elsewhere. The land is quite vast and has gone untouched for some time. It would be bold for a seller to make such a request but it is land that has great potential for agriculture and tenants. I would not recommend selling.”
“I would never dream of it. I will make a note to look into that particular shire’s estate later. In the meantime, add funds to the investments and dividends in the companies we outlined. Also, I will be making some purchases on behalf of the castle. A new carriage will be in order and I am sure Mrs. Oliver will recommend updates as well based on her conversation with Lady Kilmartin.”
“Of course, ma’am. I am sure the lady of the house will have plenty to say on the matter, as she should,” he informed with a knowing smile. She smiled slyly back at him. The man came highly recommended from Jack, who had assured her the man had no issues with the way she chose to live her life or tend to her business, especially since he himself had no wife but did frequent a few places in town often with a male companion that Jack cared not to elaborate on and she cared not to pry about.
“I think you and I will get along quite well, Graham.”
“Indeed, countess,” he agreed. She signed off on a few more documents for him before he took his leave and she went in search of her wife. She found her sitting in the library with Mrs. Oliver and couldn’t help but smile adoringly when she saw her. Mrs. Oliver gave a nod of acknowledgement as she stood up.
“I am going to check in with Samuel. The stables held up well during the winter and should be ready for warmer weather,” she informed. She closed the door behind her and Francesca giggled when Michaela nuzzled her neck.
“There is my gorgeous wife. How is your day?”
“Well, we do need to discuss some potential updates and renovations.”
“I am listening,” said Michaela as she peppered kisses on her neck.
“A Rumford stove and range may be in order. It is a bit of an undertaking at first but worth it, especially to make the staff happy with the equipment at their disposal. The stove and range could be a great help,” she explained but her brain became fuzzy as Michaela led her over to the sofa and slipped her hand under her dress.
“Brilliant,” mumbled Michaela.
“We…mmm…Michaela, I need you to focus.”
“I am plenty focused.”
“I want to redecorate a bit in the drawing…Michaela,” she moaned as her wife’s fingers slipped into her garments.
“By all means, continue, I am listening.”
“I cannot focus with you doing that,” she whispered.
“Doing what?” she teased back with a mischievous grin. She giggled when Francesca captured her lips in a passionate kiss and spread her legs to her. All thoughts of furniture, renovations, or the castle ceased as Michaela slipped two fingers inside of her. Francesca buried her face in Michaela’s shoulder as she tried not to cry out in pleasure. Her hips bucked up and Michaela held her close as she rode her fingers. Nothing else mattered in that moment but them and Francesca whimpered as Michaela whispered in her ear.
“All I care about right now is making sure my wife is well taken care of.” Michaela smiled even more as Francesca began unbuttoning her dress. Michaela had enough talk of business and the estate, and planned on making Francesca forget about it for a while as well.
The staff had learned early on when to clear out when it came to the two of them. The couple was still very much in the honeymoon stage of newlywed bliss and found it next to impossible to keep their hands to themselves for long. That night, after dinner and more talk about the updates to the castle that Michaela realized had Francesca excited, the two soaked in a bath in their bedroom as the staff retired for the night. Michaela sighed contently as Francesca kissed her shoulder and teasingly ran her hands all over her as they washed up.
“How did your meeting with Graham go?”
“I think he is going to work out well.”
“Oh yeah?”
“He assured me that we are well covered for any purchases the lady of the house may want approved.” Francesca blushed as she grinned cheekily.
“I do not know if that means we have been too obvious or he is that observant.”
“Probably both but I already knew he would fit in well based on Jack’s recommendation. You know Jack and Rory look out for us here. It is not the same as if Benedict or Eloise was here, but I would like to think they are part of our family as well.”
“Of course they are,” she agreed. Michaela smiled at the words.
“Good,” she said. Francesca bit her lip nervously as she began to think about her conversation with Mrs. Oliver and what brought it on.
“Do you ever wish we had a proper portrait?” she mustered up the courage to ask. Michaela mulled over the words for a moment.
“You mean as wives?” Francesca nodded.
“In the drawing room, the portrait of John and I is all the artwork that is currently up. I realized there is not much art throughout the house in general but if there was a piece I would request, it would be something that represented you and me.” Michaela smiled at the words.
“That would be nice.”
“But how would we have such a thing done? Is that even possible?” Michaela giggled.
“My love, you do realize there are plenty of paintings in homes of two women.”
“Yes, well I suppose, but not as wives.”
“The job of the artist is to simply paint what is requested. Maybe not requested as wives, but companions, friends, members of the household,” she listed. Francesca giggled.
“I suppose that is true.” Michaela shifted to glance up at her.
“This is important to you, isn’t it?” Francesca nodded.
“I know it is silly but…”
“Then, we will make it so. A portrait, hmm, I have not been in one since I was a child.”
“I just want our home to be a representation of us and now that I am getting more comfortable here, I think there are ways that it can be.” Michaela laced their fingers together and kissed the ring on Francesca’s finger in the way that always made her melt on the spot.
“This place is home because you are my home, Francesca. Whatever we can do to make that a reality here we should do, and no worries. I have been assured by Graham that if anything, we have been living below our means. Maybe a shopping trip in the square could be planned soon,” she suggested and giggled when Francesca happily nodded.
“You truly are the best wife ever.” Michaela sighed happily as they held one another. She’d never known such bliss, but in their bubble, in their home, that is all she ever felt.