Page 55 of His Godsent Duchess
Addison considered this for a moment before offering a quiet smile. "Perhaps the answer is to continue searching for a suitable governess. If both you and the Duke approve of someone, Miss Peversly's influence will diminish naturally."
Christina frowned, still feeling the sting of being undermined. "But what if he refuses to approve anyone? He doesn't seem willing to trust my judgment on this."
"Be patient with him, Your Grace," Addison advised gently. "The Duke has changed since you arrived. The castle is lighter—there is laughter now, where there was none before. The servants have noticed it too. He is more involved with the children, and they are happier because of it."
Christina's frown softened as she absorbed Addison's words, feeling a small measure of comfort. "I hadn't realized… I've been so caught up in everything else."
Addison smiled kindly. "You've done more than you think. And in time, the Duke will come to trust your decisions fully. But for now, continue as you have. Find the right governess. It is the surest way to ensure Miss Peversly's departure."
Christina sighed, the weight of her frustration lifting slightly. "Thank you, Addison. I don't know what I would do without your counsel."
"You'll find a way, Your Grace. You always do."
Christina managed a small smile, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "Then we shall continue the search. Miss Peversly cannot win this time."
Addison nodded in approval, returning to her task. "That's the spirit, Your Grace."
Christina straightened. There was still much to do, but with time and patience, she would find a way to bring an end to Miss Peversly's influence.
Twenty-Four
Victor had never been one to dwell too long on his own mistakes, but tonight the weight of his earlier actions hung heavily over him.
The accusing looks he had received at dinner—from his daughters and Ashing—made it abundantly clear he had been in the wrong. Miss Brown's dismissal had been swift, too swift, and while he'd convinced himself it was justified at the time, the growing sense of unease gnawed at him now.
He should apologize to Christina. He knew it, though the very thought of it sat uncomfortably with him. She hadn't joined them for dinner, and he couldn't blame her for it. She likely wished to avoid him altogether after the way he had dismissed her opinion earlier in the day.
As the final course of the meal was cleared, Victor rose from his seat. "Excuse me," he muttered, his tone curt, though he caught the questioning glance from Ashing as he left. He was not about to explain himself, but he could feel the weight of his brother's disapproval just as keenly as his own.
Stepping into the grand foyer, Victor paused. His gaze drifted upward to the grand staircase, its banisters gleaming in the soft glow of the evening candles. For a moment, he stood there, his mind turning over what he should say, how he could possibly make amends. It wasn't in his nature to apologize—especially not for a matter he'd initially believed himself right about—but Christina deserved better.
His decision made, he swiftly took the stairs two at a time, moving with purpose toward Christina's bedchamber. As he passed an arrangement of flowers set on a polished table in the hallway, he halted abruptly. Something about them caught his eye. For a fleeting moment, he hesitated, then turned back and plucked a single white lily from the vase before continuing on his way.
When he reached Christina's door, he paused again, gathering his thoughts before raising his hand to knock. A moment later, the door opened, revealing her lady's maid. She curtsied politely.
"Your Grace," Addison said, keeping her voice even. "How may I assist you?"
"I wish to speak with my wife," Victor said, his tone formal but not unkind.
Addison curtsied again and stepped aside. Victor entered, his eyes immediately seeking Christina. She was seated by the fireplace, her posture relaxed yet distant, her meal already finished. The flickering light from the hearth cast a soft glow on her, illuminating the deep red of her gown. She didn't look up right away, and he stood there for a moment, uncertain of how to proceed.
How did one begin to apologize when apologies had never come easily?
"Christina," he finally said, stepping closer, his voice low. "I was wrong earlier today."
Her gaze lifted to meet his, and though she smiled, it was not the free, easy smile he had come to enjoy from her. It was more guarded, careful.
He cleared his throat, moving closer. "I dismissed your judgment unfairly, and for that, I apologize. It was not my place to make such a hasty decision without considering your thoughts. I... I've brought you a peace offering." With a tentative smile, he extended the lily toward her.
Christina's eyes flickered down to the flower, then back up to his face. Her lips curved into a softer smile, though there was still a trace of restraint there. She accepted the lily with a quiet grace. "Thank you, Victor," she said, her voice gentle. "It's lovely."
Hearing his name on her lips stirred something inside him. He studied her expression, noting the lingering distance between them, and knew his apology, though accepted, hadn't fully mended what had been strained. He had more work to do, and he wasn't entirely sure how to proceed.
"How are you this evening?" he asked, moving to stand beside her. "I hope you are not too displeased with me."
Christina's smile faltered for just a moment, but then she surprised him by laughing softly. "I suppose you deserve my displeasure, Victor. But I will forgive you... this time."
Her teasing tone lightened the air between them, and Victor felt a small surge of relief. He inclined his head with a wry smile. "I shall have to work harder, it seems, to stay in your good graces."
