Page 70 of The Duke's Second Bride
“Well, well, well,” Vincent said, looking across the garden. “It certainly seems that ball the other night did your marriage some good, didn’t it?”
Christian followed his gaze to where Ava, Sophia, and the dowager duchess stood together on the lawn. The ladies were deep in conversation, Sophia animated as ever, Ava smiling with a warmth that seemed to radiate outward, and the Dowager Duchess of Richmond listening with the sort of serene dignity that commanded attention without her having to speak a word.
On the grass, Luke played with James and Lucy. James, at ten, was near Luke’s age, and within moments of meeting, they had dashed off, inventing a game whose rules seemed utterly mysterious to anyone but themselves. Lucy, at six, trotted gamely after them, laughing at every missed swing of her mallet, more delighted by inclusion than by any score.
“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you mean,” Christian said. It was a poor lie, and he knew it.
Vincent smacked his arm. “Come, now! You can’t fool me, old chap. You’ve completely lost your… You know.”
Christian turned with one brow raised. “Completely lost my what?”
“You know.” Vincent waved vaguely in Christian’s direction. “Your air of gloom, shall we call it? Or do you prefer ever-present storm cloud over your head?”
Christian rolled his eyes, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “You are ridiculous,” he said.
“Yes, yes, Sophia reminds me of that fact daily. But I am also right. And thank goodness for it. I thought I would lose my head, watching you and Ava tiptoe around each other for no good reason.”
“I was merely trying to be respectful,” Christian muttered.
“Respectful!” Vincent scoffed. “The woman could not take her eyes off you any more than you could take yours off her. It was excruciating.”
Christian shook his head but could not deny the truth of it.
“And look there,” Vincent continued, nodding toward the children. “Luke seems better, too.”
Christian’s gaze softened. Luke had been quiet at first, hesitant even, but now he was speaking freely, his words tumbling quickly as he and James concocted whatever rules their game required. The boy’s stammer hardly surfaced at all; his laughter came easily, openly.
“Yes,” Christian said. “He is doing much better. Ava has brought something out of him.”
“It isn’t just Ava,” Vincent said firmly. “There’s a change in him with you as well. He seems more at ease, more sure of himself. Not that he didn’t always love you, but it’s different now. He trusts you in a way children only do when they feel completely safe.” He clapped Christian on the shoulder. “You’re doing magnificently, old chap.”
A voice cut neatly through their conversation. “Magnificently, indeed. It’s remarkable, my dear boy; you’ve gone an entire afternoon without scowling. I’m impressed.”
Both men turned to see the Dowager Duchess approaching.
“Aunt,” Christian said, inclining his head. “You flatter me.”
“I do not flatter,” she corrected crisply. “I speak truth when I see it. And I see you are much changed, Christian.” She studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “Your shoulders sit differently. There is less weight pressing them down.”
Vincent chuckled. “He’ll deny it, but he’s as besotted as any man I’ve ever seen.”
The dowager’s gaze slid to where Ava stood, laughing softly at something Sophia had said. A shadow passed over the older woman’s features, there and gone in an instant, but Christian caught it all the same.
“She is good for you,” she said quietly. Then, almost under her breath, “At last, a light in this house after so much darkness.”
Her words hung in the air, and for a heartbeat, silence reigned. They all knew the darkness she referred to. Jasper’s betrayal, Nicholas’s murder…it had left scars not easily spoken of.
Christian’s throat tightened. “We go forward, Aunt,” he said gently.
The dowager’s eyes met his, clear and steady, though there was a sorrow in them that would never quite lift.
“Yes. Forward.” She straightened, squaring her shoulders as though shaking off the weight. “And I, for one, am grateful to live long enough to see it.”
Across the lawn, Luke’s triumphant shout rang out as he swung the mallet and sent the ball skittering farther than James’s. Ava clapped for him, her smile brilliant.
Christian felt something in his chest expand, something fragile but steady, as though the very air around him had grown lighter.
Christian had never in his life known that he could feel such bliss.
