Page 23 of His Godsent Duchess
She took his arm, feeling a surprising warmth in his gesture. "Yes."
As they walked back toward the castle, Christina felt a sense of newfound connection with Kilton. Despite the tension and the confrontation, there was a spark of something more—something that hinted at the possibility of genuine understanding between them.
Feeling calmer after dinner, Victor decided to check on his wife to ensure she was well. He knocked on her door, and it did not take long for her to open it.
He sucked in his breath when he saw her standing there, her curly red hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back in disarray, her bright green eyes captivating, and the white robe she had over her nightdress almost angelic. She looked surprised to see him.
"Duke," she began, "is everything all right?"
"I came to ensure you are well," he said. She stepped aside and invited him into the bedchamber.
Victor hesitated. "I don't bite," he teased.
"That is not what I am concerned about," he replied absently, his eyes taking in the room. He observed how she had made the chamber her own with more declarations—a new painting and a ballerina figurine on the fireplace mantle. He walked over to the mantle and picked up the figurine.
"This is lovely," he said. "Where did you get it?"
"It was a gift from my sister," Christina replied. "I have always wanted to learn how to dance ballet, but it is not proper for ladies."
"Can you dance?" he asked, intrigued despite himself.
"You will have to take me to a ball to find out," she teased.
"That is not going to happen," he replied, his tone flat.
"I have seen you at balls," she mentioned.
"I detest the events. I only attended because I was looking for a wife," he said, glancing around the room again. His eyes narrowed when he saw Agnes's favorite doll, Margaret, on the bed. He felt his body tense.
"What is that doll doing in your room?" he asked sharply. "It's Agnes'!"
After the words left his mouth, he flinched at how accusing he sounded. He saw the effect his tone had on the Duchess as she took a cautious step back. She walked to the bed and picked up the doll.
"Agnes gave it to me the night we arrived at the castle so it could keep me company while you were away," she explained gently.
Victor looked at her intently, wondering if she felt lonely. He dismissed the thought immediately and mumbled, "I apologize for my hasty accusation."
They sat in front of the fireplace, and Victor spoke again. "Agnes never slept without that doll, especially after her mother died."
The Duchess—Christina—frowned. "Did Agnes miss her mother, even though she was never shown affection?"
He nodded. "Agnes was four at the time. She yearned to be in her mother's company but was always turned away. She also witnessed how the fever ravaged her mother before she died."
"Oh, the poor little one," Christina expressed, and Victor saw genuine care in her eyes. He began to think that perhaps this marriage was not as unfortunate as he had earlier assumed.
Christina then asked, "will you give me the liberty of choosing the girls' next governess?"
He contemplated for a moment, measuring her capability. He saw her determination and care. "You may take part in the decision making, but I have the final say."
Christina looked as though she wanted to ask him for more, but she instead murmured, "thank you, Duke."
She then grew serious. "I know that having daughter as spirited as them might be tiring, but please promise me something. No matter what, please never consider sending them to a finishing school."
"Didn't your parents send you to Mrs. Darlington-Whit's Seminary?"
"Yes, and I was miserable. They were afraid I would grow up a disgrace and sought to prevent that before it happened. They would rather die than have me embarrass them in front of theton," Christina explained.
Victor's expression softened with understanding. "That does sound like a rather desolate experience."
