Genevieve blushed, her heart fluttering at his words. She had never enjoyed flattery, but when it came from Wilhelm, it held a sincerity that made her feel genuinely cherished.
“I brought something for you,” Wilhelm announced, reaching into the picnic basket. He pulled out a slim volume bound in worn leather. “I believe you might appreciate this.”
Genevieve’s curiosity was piqued. “What is it?” she inquired, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Wilhelm smiled. “A collection of sonnets,” he replied, opening the book to a marked page. “By a rather talented playwright named William Shakespeare.”
Genevieve’s eyes sparkled. “Will you read some of it to me?”
Wilhelm chuckled, nodding as a playful smile tugged at his lips. He bit his lower lip briefly, then extended his left arm, motioning for her to lean against him.
She sat up and nestled into his chest, her head resting comfortably against his chest as he opened the book.
He cleared his throat and began to read, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that filled the air with the beauty of the words.
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.”
Genevieve listened, mesmerized by his voice, the words, and the emotion that laced every syllable.
As he continued to read, a sigh escaped her lips.
Wilhelm paused, his gaze searching hers. “What is it?” he asked.
“It is nothing,” she assured him, her voice thick with emotion. “I am just… enjoying myself.”
Wilhelm’s eyes lit up. He reached out, his fingers gently stroking her cheek. “As am I, Genevieve,” he said.
He leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a tender kiss. The warmth of his embrace erased the world around her, leaving her feeling utterly free and peaceful.
As they broke apart, his intense, tender gaze bored into blue eyes. Genevieve’s trembling fingers rose, lightly tracing the sharp edge of his jaw and the curve of his cheek.
Wilhelm captured her hand and pressed a tender kiss to her palm.
“I believe it is high time that we visited the village together,” he announced.
He helped her up and led her towards a magnificent black stallion that a stable boy had tethered nearby, its sleek coat shimmering under the golden sunlight.
With a steady hand, Wilhelm helped her into the saddle, ensuring she was secure before swinging up behind her. His arms encircled her as he took the reins, and with a soft nudge, the stallion surged forward.
The wind rushed past them, carrying their laughter across the meadow that danced with rustling grasses and the distant song of birds.
As they walked through the quaint village of Ravenshire, a cluster of villagers gathered by the roadside, their faces etched with a mix of respect and admiration.
“Your Grace,” an elderly farmer greeted as he bowed his head. “We are most grateful for your assistance with the new irrigation system. Our crops have flourished this season, thanks to your generosity.”
Wilhelm inclined his head, his gaze sweeping over the assembled villagers. “No need for gratitude,” he replied, his voice a low rumble that resonated with sincerity. “A prosperous village is a testament to the qualities of its leader, and the well-being of my people is my sworn duty.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, their faces bright with appreciation.
Genevieve felt joy spread through her heart as she listened to their exchange.
Amidst the assembly of humble villagers, she could see a different side of him emerge and blossom.
