Page 10 of His Godsent Duchess
Hearing this, Miss Peversly said sharply, "Girls, you may not play like wild urchins, and Her Grace is not your mother."
The girls lowered their eyes, and a sad tension filled the carriage. The joyous atmosphere was shattered, replaced by an oppressive silence. Christina felt ire rising within her. She raised her chin, meeting the governess's eyes with a steely gaze. "If the girls would honor me by thinking of me as their mother, it is not your place to criticize, Miss Peversly. The girls are free to choose whom they wish to see as their mother."
Christina was not surprised that Kilton would employ such a cold, condescending woman to look after his children. The realization only strengthened her resolve to protect the girls. She decided that she would watch her closely. The governess's influence would not go unchecked.
Perhaps the Duke might not be the only one the children needed to be shielded from.
The governess glared at her, but Christina continued, her voice firm. "As the Duchess of Kilton and their guardian, I have the final say in their affairs. Do we have an understanding?"
Miss Peversly responded by turning her face to look out the window, her demeanor cold and dismissive. The tension in the carriage was palpable, and Christina knew she had made an enemy.
Five
Lady Christina—the Duchess—has more fire than I would like in a wife,Victor thought as he lowered his cigar and snuffed it against a saucer. The memory of her defiant gaze lingered in his mind. It was not the docile demeanor he had expected.
He was not pleased with the way the Duchess questioned him. Yes, her boldness fascinated him, and perhaps that boldness was what she would employ to discipline his children. Heaven knew they needed it.
"Should you not be at White's on the night of your wedding?" a voice asked.
Victor looked up to see his friend Marcus Hebert, the Marquess of Ashing, standing before him. The familiar sight of his friend brought a momentary sense of relief. "It is no conventional wedding, Ashing," Victor replied, tilting his head slightly. "The Duchess and my children are on their way to Kent."
Ashing raised an eyebrow sarcastically and took the chair across from Victor. "And why are you not traveling with them, Kilton?"
"I have business in London," Victor responded. His tone was clipped, leaving little room for further inquiry.
Ashing laughed, a sardonic look on his face. "Do you truly have business?" The skepticism in his voice was clear, and Victor felt irritated.
Victor did have business, but another reason he was remaining in London was because the Duchess might expect more from him than he was willing to give.If we spend the first days apart, then perhaps she might understand the true nature of our marriage—that her sole purpose is to be a mother to my children, not my ‘wife'.
"What brings you to town, Ashing?" Victor asked, changing the subject.
"I am here for the social season," Ashing replied, "to see what wife I can find among the ‘lovely' ladies of theton." His voice dripped with sarcasm, and Victor couldn't help but smirk.
Victor nodded. "I would have invited you to the wedding ceremony if I'd known you would be in London."
Ashing dismissed this with a charming wave. "I know you prefer a quiet event , Kilton. When will you return to your fair Duchess?"
"Until my business here is concluded," Victor replied unceremoniously. His response was deliberately vague, leaving his friend to interpret as he wished.
Ashing shivered exaggeratedly. "The poor Duchess is likely unaware she married winter himself." His jest was light-hearted, but Victor felt the sting of truth in it.
Victor shook his head while his friend laughed.I do not know my wife, and she does not know me, he acknowledged inwardly, but he still trusted Hillsbury's word that his daughter was calm and capable.
Yet, the fire he saw in her eyes today suggested otherwise, and he wondered if he had underestimated her.
Christina stepped down from the carriage with a footman's help and looked up at Kilton Castle, bathed in the last glow of the setting sun. The majestic structure seemed to shimmer in the fading light, casting long shadows across the manicured lawns. The castle's beauty took her breath away—its towers rose high, like vigilant sentinels guarding a realm of enchantment. The intricate stonework and ivy-covered walls whispered of centuries past, filled with stories and secrets waiting to be uncovered.
She felt someone take her hand, and Agnes's voice followed. "Do you like the castle, Your Grace?"
Christina smiled warmly. "I already feel like a princess from the fairytales." The child's hand in hers was a comforting anchor in this new, imposing world.
Cassidy laughed. "But you didn't marry a prince. Father is anything but charming." Her candid remark made Christina chuckle, breaking some of the tension.
Amelia's eyes widened with curiosity. "Do you read fairytales, Your Grace? Father does not allow us to because he thinks it will pollute our minds."
Christina held back a sigh and resisted rolling her eyes.Give me strength! What have I married?She reassured Amelia with a gentle squeeze of her hand. "I will read to you, Amelia. We shall have our own stories." Her promise brought a spark of hope to the girl's eyes.
Miss Peversly cleared her throat, her voice clipped. "Girls, follow me." Her tone brooked no argument, and the girls obediently moved toward the entrance.
