“He wouldn’t mind,” Marianne replied.
This time, she was sure.
Somehow, she knew that Dominic wouldn’t object. He would perhaps grumble, but he wouldn’t stop them. Not after letting Perseus and Serafina practically rule the estate.
“Hmm. Well, I want to play a game later,” Victoria declared, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips.
Marianne smiled, warmth returning. Victoria’s joy was a sort of resilience, a spark that even their father hadn’t managed to extinguish.
“Later,” she said with a chuckle. “But first, you all must clean up and get ready for lunch.”
“Will the Duke be there?” Daphne asked, her voice quiet, a little unsure.
“For lunch?” Marianne hesitated. “He’s been rather preoccupied of late. You likely won’t see him—at lunch or at all today.”
“Good,” Victoria muttered.
“Victoria!” Daphne gasped.
“What? I’m being honest. Still, I suppose I should regret missing my generous benefactor,” Victoria added with mock solemnity, straightening her bodice as though it were a coat.
Marianne rolled her eyes, though her smile lingered.
If Victoria were a few years older, she’d have made a fine match for a wealthy, distracted duke. She would’ve enjoyed the independence, the power, and certainly the house.
Marianne herself enjoyed those on occasion, even though she found herself more drawn by her husband.
Whether that was good or not, she didn’t know.
The rest of the day slipped by, easy and light in their company. Hours after lunch, as promised, it was time to give Victoria her game.
While the morning had been damp, the rain clouds were completely at bay by early afternoon. Sunlight streamed into the house, filling its cold corners with warmth and giving it the life the girls deserved.
The twins were energized by the light. Even Daphne, usually the quieter one, gurgled with excitement. But it was Victoria, as always, who put their wishes into words.
“You promised we would play a game!” she declared, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
“I did no such thing,” Marianne muttered, though her tone lacked conviction.
It was becoming clear that she would have all the time in the world with her sisters this weekend. Dominic hadn’t shown himself all day. It was as though he had quietly given up on her—and her family—after Perseus’s last tantrum.
“Please, Marianne. There’s nothing much to do, and why waste all the space here at Oakmere?”
Victoria did have a point. Oakmere, for all its elegance, was empty without laughter. It had been a long time since children had played in its halls, and Dominic had never expressed any desire to sire an heir.
The thought warmed Marianne’s cheeks before she could stop it.
“Hide and seek!” Victoria squealed. “Mina, you count, and the rest of us will hide!”
Marianne hesitated. The idea of being dragged into a game made her heart beat a little too fast. It felt exhausting—emotionally so.
Her mind drifted again to Dominic. He hadn’t appeared in any of the hallways they’d passed, hadn’t joined any meals.
Where is he?
Images of him intruded again—muddied boots, open shirt, that maddeningly broad chest. She longed to cling to that shirt, trace the lines of his chest with her fingers, inhale the clean, masculine scent of earth and pine.
“Please, Marianne! This placeneedsexploring!” Victoria cried, bouncing in place.