Page 46 of His Godsent Duchess
He leaned in a fraction closer, the faintest trace of a smirk pulling at his lips. "You are quite right, of course. I've never been able to say no to her."
The space between them felt charged, as though the air itself was thick with an unspoken tension. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than it should have, and before he could stop himself, he reached up and gently smoothed a stray curl from her brow. The touch of her hair, soft and fiery against his fingers, sent an unexpected thrill through him.
Christina's breath caught, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Their eyes locked, the world around them seemingly slipping away. Then, as if remembering himself, Victor straightened, his expression carefully schooled back into one of decorum.
"We mustn't fall behind," he said, his voice betraying none of the tumult within him.
They continued toward the rose garden, where the girls had already begun their search beneath the blooming blossoms. Kitty knelt by one of the larger bushes, her brow furrowed in concentration as she peered into the shrubbery. Amelia was not far from her, examining the base of a sundial.
At last, it was Cassidy who cried out, her voice triumphant. "Here! I've found another one!"
Ashing was at her side in an instant, his laughter ringing out as he clapped her on the shoulder. "Well done, my dear Cassidy. Let's see what this clue has in store for us."
Cassidy handed the envelope to Christina, who unfolded the parchment and read it aloud:
"To find the treasure, you must seek a place where water flows, swift and sleek. Where stones are smooth and moss does grow, the prize is hidden in the cool below."
Annabelle's eyes lit up. "The stream!" she declared, her voice filled with excitement. "We must go to the stream!"
Agnes grabbed her hand, and together, the two of them rushed off toward the gentle brook that ran through the far end of the garden, the others following quickly behind. The stream's water glistened in the late afternoon light, and the sound of it babbling over smooth stones filled the air with a tranquil melody.
Annabelle and Agnes knelt at the water's edge, their small hands carefully sifting through the moss-covered stones. It was Agnes who let out a shriek of delight, her fingers brushing against something solid beneath the rocks. "Annabelle, help me!"
Together, they pulled free a small wooden box, its surface worn smooth by time but clearly still intact. They carried it to Christina, who beamed at their discovery. "Let's see what treasure you've uncovered, shall we?"
With careful hands, she opened the lid, revealing an assortment of sweetmeats nestled within. The girls gasped in delight, their eyes wide as they beheld the sugary treasure.
"Sweetmeats!" Agnes exclaimed, her voice filled with awe. "We found the treasure!"
Annabelle, ever the thoughtful one, immediately began distributing the treats. "We must share it, of course," she said, handing pieces to her sisters.
The girls ran to Victor, Ashing, and Christina, offering the sweets with beaming faces. Victor accepted his with a quiet smile, something warm settling in his chest as he watched his daughters so full of joy and kindness.
"They found it, Victor," Christina said softly beside him, her voice filled with pride. "They won."
Victor nodded, his eyes on the girls as they shared the treasure amongst themselves. He hadn't expected to feel this… overwhelmed. A simple game, yet it had stirred something within him—something he hadn't been prepared for. The sight of his daughters so happy, so carefree, filled him with a deep, unfamiliar emotion.
He swallowed hard, suddenly needing distance, needing space to think. "Excuse me," he muttered, his voice rougher than intended. Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, his steps quick and purposeful.
As he moved further from the group, the sounds of their laughter growing distant, he heard Amelia's voice, small and worried, ask Christina, "What did we do wrong to send Father away?"
Victor's chest tightened painfully at her words, the weight of them pressing down on him like a leaden stone.
Twenty
Victor walked swiftly, eager to retreat to the familiar solitude of his study where he could order his thoughts. But the echo of quick footsteps behind him made him pause. Instinctively, he slowed his stride, glancing over his shoulder.
Christina was following him, her red hair catching the last of the afternoon light, her green eyes bright and filled with something he couldn't quite place. For a moment, Victor's heart gave an unexpected lurch. He expected her to reprimand him, to question his abrupt departure from the garden and the children. He braced himself for her words, for the inevitable conversation that would prick at the walls he'd carefully built around himself.
But when she reached him, her voice was soft, almost… grateful.
"Victor," she said, her tone gentle, "I wanted to thank you."
Victor blinked, his surprise momentarily rendering him silent. "Thank me?" he repeated, incredulity slipping into his voice. He wasn't sure what he had done to deserve her thanks.
Christina smiled, the warmth of it surprising him. "What you did in the garden—it meant so much to the girls. They'll remember this day for a long time." She paused, her gaze steady on him. "You've given them a piece of their father today. That is no small thing."
He shifted, discomforted by the sincerity in her words. "It was… nothing," he muttered, trying to shrug off the weight of her gratitude. It had only been a simple game, after all. Something she had orchestrated.
