Page 54 of His Godsent Duchess
Leaving the drawing room, Christina made her way to Victor's study, Miss Brown's reference letter in hand. Her heart was lighter as she knocked at his door, already anticipating his approval.
"Enter," Victor's voice called from within.
Christina stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her. Victor sat at his desk, his eyes lifting from the papers in front of him as she approached.
"Victor," she began, her voice full of optimism. "I have just interviewed a young woman for the position of governess. Miss Charlotte Brown. She is well-qualified, polite, and comes with an excellent reference from her previous employers."
Victor leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing with interest. "You are satisfied with her, then?"
Christina nodded, extending the reference letter. "I believe she would be a wonderful addition to the household."
Victor took the letter and glanced over it before setting it aside. "Very well. I would like to meet her myself before making any decisions."
Together, they walked toward the drawing room, Christina's heart lifting in anticipation of introducing him to the young woman. But the moment they entered the room, Victor's expression shifted. His gaze swept over Miss Brown's dusty gown and disheveled hair, and his features hardened.
Christina's heart sank as she watched his reaction.
Victor turned to her with a questioning, almost accusatory look, but before she could offer an explanation, he addressed Miss Brown sharply.
"I am afraid, Miss Brown, that you do not qualify for this position."
Miss Brown's face fell, her hands trembling as she stood to curtsy. "I?—"
Victor didn't wait for her to finish. He turned and strode out of the room, leaving Christina standing there, speechless and stunned. The hope she had carried for the last hour crumbled in an instant.
Without a word to Miss Brown, Christina hurried after Victor, following him down the corridor until they reached his study. The moment the door closed behind them, she turned to him, her voice rising in frustration.
"Victor, why did you do that? You didn't even give her a chance to explain herself!"
Victor was already standing by the window, his back to her, the tension in his shoulders unmistakable. He remained silent for a moment before replying, his voice cold. "Did you take a proper look at her, Christina? That is the woman you would entrust with the care of our children?"
Christina's breath caught at the harshness of his tone. "She is well-qualified," she said, her voice firm despite the hurt building in her chest. "Her appearance was an unfortunate circumstance. She was directed to the wrong entrance?—"
"And that," Victor interrupted, turning to face her, "is the first impression she offers? My children deserve better than that."
Christina felt her temper rising, but she fought to keep her voice measured. "Appearances are not everything. She is intelligent, well-educated, and perfectly capable."
Victor's expression remained cold, unmoved by her words. "My children need more than someone who can recite lessons. They need someone who can command respect. Someone who knows how to present themselves properly."
Frustration and hurt warred within Christina as she stared at him. She wanted to argue, to defend Miss Brown further, but she could see that Victor's mind was made up. He had made his judgment based on appearances alone.
Without another word, Christina turned and left the study, her heart heavy and her steps quick as she tried to hide the sting of being so thoroughly undermined.
Christina entered her bedchamber, her mood still clouded from her argument with Victor. As she moved toward the dressing chamber, the sound of soft rustling caught her attention. Stepping inside, she found Addison meticulously arranging dresses and organizing the space.
"Addison," Christina said, her voice tight with frustration, "I can't take much more of this."
Addison turned, pausing in her task as she observed Christina's expression. "What has happened, Your Grace?"
Christina sighed and sank into the nearest chair, her hands clasping the armrests. "It's the Duke. He dismissed Miss Brown—the young woman I interviewed for the governess position—without even giving her a chance. He barely looked at her before deciding she wasn't fit. All because she was led through the servants' entrance by none other than Miss Peversly."
Addison's lips tightened in a knowing way. "That certainly sounds like Miss Peversly's handiwork. She thrives on ensuring no one threatens her position."
Christina let out an exasperated breath. "And the Duke doesn't see it. He refuses to see it. I don't know how I'm supposed to manage this if he listens to her every word."
Addison stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "Miss Peversly has always been calculating. She knows her time may be up if another governess is appointed, so of course she will fight to keep control."
"But how can I rid us of her if His Grace is so quick to judge anyone new?" Christina asked, her frustration mounting. "He dismissed Miss Brown purely on appearance, without listening to her qualifications."
