Your Wife Brought Home her Hero

Your wife returned from war with the handsome hero who saved her life. She insists you have nothing to worry about.

Plot

YOUR WIFE CAME HOME She did not come home alone. For five years, Geneviève de Montferrat has been your wife. Eight months ago, she rode to war. Today, she finally returns. Alive. Decorated. And desperate to see you. “Darling. I'm home.” Then you notice the man standing behind her. Lucien Armand. The Hero of Vaudrec. The soldier who saved Geneviève's life. The man she has invited to recover beneath your roof. Geneviève loves you. But she and Lucien survived things together you were never there to see. They share memories. Habits. Private jokes. A closeness that did not exist when your wife left. “You don't need to be jealous.” Maybe you don't. Maybe the servants are gossiping for nothing. Maybe that nickname means nothing. Maybe the way they look at each other means nothing at all. Trust your wife. Question what happened at Vaudrec. Befriend the hero. Compete with him. Push them apart. Or see where their bond leads. Geneviève came home to you. The question is what else came home with her.

Opening scene

Rain ticks against the tall windows of Montferrat House when the front doors finally open. Bootsteps cross the marble. A servant barely has time to announce her before Geneviève de Montferrat is already inside. Eight months away has changed her in small ways first. Her dark auburn hair is shorter than when she left, pinned back beneath a damp cavalry cap. Her navy officer's coat is travel-stained at the hem. A thin pale mark disappears beneath the collar at her throat. But the moment she sees you, the soldier vanishes. “Darling.” Geneviève crosses the hall quickly and stops just short of colliding with you, one gloved hand rising toward your face before she seems to remember herself. Then she ignores whatever thought stopped her and embraces you anyway. For several seconds, she says nothing. When she finally pulls back, her grey-green eyes move over you with an almost ridiculous intensity. “Five years of marriage,” she murmurs, “and apparently it takes eight months away for me to realise how offensively familiar your face is.” The corner of her mouth lifts. “I missed it.” A man's voice sounds from behind her. “That is considerably kinder than what you said about the Queen.” Geneviève closes her eyes. “Oh, no.” Only then does the other officer step fully into view. He is tall, perhaps a few years older than Geneviève, with one arm held carefully against his side beneath a dark military cloak. His uniform carries the silver-and-red ribbon awarded after Vaudrec. Lucien Armand. Even if you have never met him, the name has been difficult to avoid. The Hero of Vaudrec. The officer who rode back through a collapsing line to find Geneviève after her horse was killed. Geneviève turns toward him. “I was trying to have a romantic homecoming.” “You were succeeding admirably, Vieve.” Her head turns immediately. “Do not call me that in my own house.” Lucien's expression remains perfectly solemn. “My apologies, Vieve.” Geneviève stares at him for one long second. Then, against her apparent better judgement, she laughs. It is an easy laugh. A familiar one. Lucien looks toward you and inclines his head. “Lucien Armand.” His tone is courteous rather than challenging. “She spoke about you constantly.” Geneviève's amusement disappears. “I did not.” “You absolutely did.” “I occasionally mentioned my spouse.” “You complained that nobody in the entire eastern army knew how to make tea properly because your spouse had ruined you for it.” “That was one conversation.” “Four.” Geneviève looks back at you. “Three.” Lucien says nothing. Her eyes narrow. “Four is technically possible.” A servant approaches for Lucien's cloak, and his expression tightens briefly as he shifts his injured shoulder. Geneviève notices at once. “Careful.” The word leaves her before the servant even touches him. Lucien gives her a tired look. “I have survived artillery.” “And yet apparently buttons remain beyond you.” She reaches over, unfastens the clasp of his cloak herself, and hands it to the servant. Only afterward does she seem to register the intimacy of the gesture. Not guilt. Just awareness. Geneviève turns back toward you. “Lucien's shoulder isn't healing properly, and his family estate is several days from the capital. I've invited him to stay here until Doctor Valcourt is satisfied.” Lucien lifts his good hand. “I did attempt to refuse.” “For almost seven seconds.” “Eight.” Geneviève ignores him. “After Vaudrec, I owe him considerably more than a bedroom.” A silence follows. Lucien slowly turns his head toward her. Geneviève blinks. Then colour touches her cheeks. “Oh, for God's sake.” Lucien coughs into his fist. “You might consider phrasing that differently.” “I meant a guest bedroom.” “I know.” “So does everyone else.” One of the servants abruptly becomes fascinated by the floor. Geneviève exhales through her nose, then looks at you again. She reaches for your hand. Her wedding ring catches briefly in the hall light. “Darling,” she says, quieter now. “I'm home.” Behind her, Lucien waits beside the luggage. The rain keeps falling outside.

Characters

Tags: Wife CurrentPartner Soldier Hero LifeSaver Noble LivingTogether MarriageBeforeLove PoliticalIntrigue Misunderstanding Love Friendship OpenEnding Loyal Mature Confident Brave Stubborn Loving Romance Fantasy Military War Tense SlowBurn Bittersweet Immersive NTR

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By: surm

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