Chapter 14

Where has she gone? She was just here a moment ago, and now she is nowhere to be seen.

As much as Christopher tried to prevent it, his sole focus was only on Frances that night. Phillip had whisled him to the refreshments table, but even the drink was not enough to keep his attention there. A deep frown creased his forehead.

"What is going on with you tonight?" Phillip asked, as his patience ran thin. "I feel as though your mind is somewhere else entirely."

Christopher couldn't shake the unease that had settled over him since they arrived. Suddenly, he noticed Frances re-entering the ballroom with her sisters, and relief washed over him immediately.

There she was.

Phillip followed his gaze, and then a knowing smirk crossed his lips. "Oh. So, that is what is happening…" he teased. "Say, Christopher. I never did take you for the possessive sort. But do not worry, no one is going to steal her away tonight if she is out of your sight for a moment only."

Christopher sighed, running a hand through his hair and choosing to ignore his friend's little remark. "I think I made a mistake buying that dress for her."

"Mistake?" Phillip chuckled, before taking a sip of his drink. "I think you are being a little bit harsh. She looks fantastic, as a duchess should."

"That is precisely the problem," Christopher muttered through gritted teeth, staring at her from across the room once again.

"I am afraid that I have lost you there, my friend," Phillip replied, confused.

"Everyone can see how beautiful Frances is. I should have bought her a simpler dress. All night, I've been thinking about how I wanted to be the only one who gets to see her at her best. Now everyone is staring at her."

That made Phillip laugh so hard that he nearly choked on his drink. He patted his friend on the back.

"My word. I thought I would never see the day. You had always maintained that you were immune," he said. "But look at you now, experiencing a classic case of jealousy."

Christopher shook his head. "I am merely worried about all the attention she is getting. Surely, she would not enjoy it, knowing how she likes to keep to herself."

Phillip was not convinced in the slightest. "Sure, you may keep telling yourself that…"

"Is that Lord Bethem going to her?" Christopher asked, suddenly charged up.

But the man only passed her by, leaving Christopher feeling rather stupid for having such a reaction. Perhaps Phillip was right.

"I feel like I will go mad tonight," Christopher muttered under his breath, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Frances looked too stunning. Undoubtedly the most beautiful woman here tonight. On the one hand, he felt proud that he was the one who she had come here with tonight. But at the same time, he felt annoyed that everyone else could look at her, too.

He was willing to gouge anyone's eyes out if their gaze lingered longer than it should.

"Lighten up, chap. You are not going mad. In fact, that's what being in love feels like. You want to protect her, keep her to yourself. It's perfectly natural."

Christopher mulled over his friend's words. Could this be the case? Love?

Surely, it felt like too strong a word.

"I would be careful, Phillip, not to go so far…" He quickly gulped down the remainder of his drink.

"Hmm, you should not lie to yourself if this is how you feel. I know love is a strange concept to you, but it is hardly a sin. Need I remind you again that you are married to her?" Phillip pressed.

Christopher shook his head. It was almost as though he felt guilty for thinking about Frances romantically.

"We only married for the twins. Nothing more."

"Are you sure about that? It seems to me there's more to your feelings than just a sense of duty," Phillip countered.

Christopher looked away, struggling with his emotions. He always knew that his life would change once he was married. But he never thought that it would change to this degree.

"I do not think it is wise for me to fall in love with her," he admitted after an internal battle with his own thoughts.

He looked over at her again, and she seemed to be laughing at something that her sisters were saying.

If only she knew the power she held over him at that moment, how beautiful she looked, how effortless.

He motioned for the waiter to bring him another glass.

"And why not?" Phillip pressed. "I have never known you to be someone who shies away from risk, and adventure. Being in love with the right person is the best adventure of all."

"There is just too much at stake," Christopher sighed. "She is not some gorgeous stranger. The children have formed an attachment to her."

Phillip observed his friend for a moment, a sympathetic expression on his face. "I see. But what makes you believe that things will go bad between the both of you and that the children will be impacted?"

Christopher's fingers tightened around his glass. "Even if they do not, there will be greater complications for me to deal with."

"And those are?" Phillip prompted, not letting Christopher have a moment of rest. He could be quite persistent when he felt like it.

Christopher lowered his voice to a whisper. "With it, love brings children."

Phillip looked even more confused than before. "And what is the problem with that? You have already proven how much you like being around them. It would do you well to have your own."

Christopher shook his head, obstinate. "I do not wish to have an heir."

"And you are firm on that decision?"

Christopher's stomach churned at the thought. Was he firm?

"It's not to do with Frances, at all. But more to do with my family. My mother… she's always been obsessed with duty and the dukedom. She ruined my father's life, and I don't want to bring a child into that kind of pressure. It should end with me."

Phillip was looking at his friend with a mix of sadness and understanding now. "I can understand your fears, as I have been in your situation, too. But for me, having more children was the biggest blessing. Esther made me change my mind on that, and I shall be forever grateful to her for it."

Christopher mulled over his friend's response for a moment. He was in the middle of figuring out what to say to him when he was interrupted.

"Christopher," came a voice laced with cold authority.

They turned to see Teresa Grant, the Dowager Duchess of Huntington, standing before them.

Christopher's face paled with shock. "Mother? What are you doing here?"

It had been years since he had last seen her. Still, she looked as though she had not aged a single day. The Dowager Duchess's presence was a stark contrast to the otherwise lively atmosphere of the ballroom. Even her gown was a dark color, perfectly fitting her personality.

Christopher wanted nothing more than for her to leave.

"I came to see you, Christopher. You haven't replied to any of my letters, and I heard that you have made some big decisions in your life."

Her gaze was piercing, and Christopher could feel that even Phillip was uncomfortable in her presence.

"I do not see how they concern you in the slightest, Mother."

The Dowager Duchess raised her eyebrow, a sneer crossing her face. "Does it not concern a mother what her firstborn is doing in his life? I think you forget that I was the one who birthed you."

And then you were the one who left me.

Christopher bit his tongue, holding back those words. "You have no right to be here. You haven't attended the Season in years. Why now?"

"I am your mother. Since you have taken on a wife without even consulting me first, I think at the very least I have a responsibility to make sure that things are done properly moving forward," she hissed.

"I have gone on just fine without your counsel for the last ten years of my life. I do not think I need it now," Christopher said through gritted teeth.

"Stop that. You are being silly. It is my duty as your mother to ensure that you fulfill yours. And that includes meeting your wife and providing her with guidance."

"I don't want you anywhere near my wife or my nephews." Christopher's words were firm—there was no room for argument.

Teresa's eyes narrowed. "Your nephews are a disgrace. But since you've taken them in, they will need proper education. They need to be raised with discipline and decorum."

Christopher laughed bitterly. "Discipline and decorum? Like the kind you showed Peter and me? No, Mother, you had your chance to educate your sons. You don't get a second one."

Teresa's face tightened, and she looked on the precipice of an outburst. "You are making a mistake, Christopher. Your father was weak, and it seems you have inherited his softness. The twins will tarnish the family name if they're not properly guided."

"I will not let you ruin their lives as you did ours. Stay away from my family."

My family.

It was the first time that Christopher had referred to Frances and the children as his family. Even though it had come out in an emotionally charged moment, it felt like the right thing to say.

They were his family, and he was going to stand by them no matter what.

Teresa took a step forward, her voice low and menacing. "I am your mother. It's my place to help the new Duchess with her duties. She needs my guidance."

"Why do you wish to impart your words of wisdom now?" Christopher challenged. "Besides, you underestimate Frances. She is stronger and wiser than you would believe. I do not think she requires any sort of help, especially from you."

"You are being foolish and fickle," the Dowager Duchess hissed. "Has she asked you to say this? Is this how you are going to behave with your mother, whom you have not seen in so many years?"

Christopher held back a laugh. "Please, Mother. I think you and I both know that you lost the privilege of being referred to as my mother long ago."

The Dowager Duchess's eyes flicked to Phillip, who was till now only a silent spectator. "Duke, you are a man from a respectable family and have a good reputation in Society. Is this any way for a man to speak to his mother?"

Phillip opened his mouth to speak, but Christopher stopped him, glaring at his mother. "There is no need to drag Phillip into the mess that you are so eager to create."

"Quite the contrary. I am here to clean up the mess that you have made by marrying someone whose lineage does not impress me. Did you really think you had a shortage of women who would have done anything to marry you? All you had to do was ask me, and I would have presented you with a line of them the very next day."

Christopher resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew that his mother would inevitably bring this up. It was not as though Frances was not from a respectable family. More so that the Dowager Duchess's expectations were impossible to match. She wanted a daughter-in-law who descended from royalty or came from immense wealth that matched theirs.

"Not everyone is so driven by superficial matters as you are, Mother," Christopher pressed. "To me, Frances was the best choice possible."

"Then you surely underestimate yourself."

"And you consider yourself far too self-important to be saying this to me."

The Dowager Duchess was about to reply when Christopher held up his hand. "I have had enough of this conversation. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go look for my wife."

"May I have this dance?" Christopher asked as he approached Frances, who looked surprised to see him.

She looked back to her sister, Esther, and then nodded. "Of course."

He quickly led her to the dance floor. What he needed right now was a distraction from the venom his mother had just spat at him. The music began playing, and the two synced their movements.

He could see that people were watching them as they danced, including his mother, to whom he was determined to prove a point.

He leaned close to Frances. "Remember when you said earlier, that we must put on a convincing act?" he whispered in her ear.

"Mhmm. Indeed, I do."

"Well, my dear, I would like for you to put on your best performance now," he purred, noticing the way it caused a small shiver to run through her.

They danced together with a passion that Christopher had never displayed before when dancing with another woman. After a certain point, he knew that this was not acting anymore. No, this came perfectly naturally to the both of them.

Their bodies were in perfect sync with one another, and they moved with grace and fluidity. Never once did he step on her foot or did she move in a way that did not perfectly complement him.

It was magic.

And perhaps all the more satisfying was knowing that the Dowager Duchess was watching them, likely seething at the sight. She never did like seeing her son happy, if it was not of any benefit to her.

As the dance was about to draw to a close, the newlyweds slowed down their movements, smiling at each other.

"You never told me how great of a dancer you were, Duchess." Christopher's tone was flirtatious—he could not help it.

"Likewise."

He chuckled, feeling an unusual lightness in his heart. Something about Frances's presence made everything better.

"I have to say that I quite like it when you are in a good mood like this. I was worried something was going on with you when we first arrived here." She leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "Why were you frowning earlier?"

Christopher hesitated, feeling a bit foolish. "It was nothing, really. Just me being stupid."

Frances stopped dancing for a moment, her eyes searching his. "Christopher, I want to know, even if it's something silly. Because you are my husband."

Hearing her call him ‘husband' filled him with warmth.

Christopher leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "I was frowning because I realized I was an idiot for buying you that dress. All night, I've been thinking that I should have bought you a simpler one."

All night, he had tried to keep his feelings to himself. But when she asked him so sweetly, it was difficult not to tell her anything that she wished to know.

She had a certain kind of effect on him, whether she realized it or not.

Frances looked puzzled. "Why would you think that?"

Christopher's voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Because now everyone gets to see how beautiful you are."

She looked stunned by his admission, and then her pale skin turned into a shade of peach. "I thought that it was because you do not like the dress…"

"Are you mad?" he said, aghast. "I like it. No, that word does not do it justice. I admire it to a degree that I wish to buy you twenty dresses like it."

The corners of her mouth turned upwards into a small, shy smile. "But then you would find yourself in the same situation, twenty times over. Would you not?"

"I will make sure that you only wear them around the house. So that it is only me who gets to see you like that." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

Her blush deepened.

At that moment, he felt tempted to kiss right there, in the middle of the dance floor. Sure, it would not reflect on them well, as Society did not appreciate public displays of affection, even if the couple were married.

Still, he was willing to risk it. The moment felt right.

But just as he was about to, he spotted Teresa from the corner of his eye as the dance floor began to clear out. She looked like a predator, waiting in the sidelines.

Christopher knew his mother. She was waiting for them to leave the dance floor so that she could ambush Frances and tell her God knew what kind of nonsense.

Determined to protect his wife, Christopher decided to act swiftly. As the music came to an end, he gently but firmly took Frances by the hand.

"Come with me," he whispered urgently.

Frances looked at him, puzzled by the sudden change in his demeanor. "What's happened?"

"Trust me," he said, leading her through the crowd and towards the exit. "It is imperative that we leave now."

"But I have not even said goodbye to Esther, or my family…" she trailed off as Christopher guided her away from the crowd, and outside into the fresh air.

"There is no time for that."

They made their over to the carriage in record time. As the doors closed behind them, they looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

"Christopher, why does it feel like I have just fled the scene of a crime?" Frances asked through her laughter.

"Believe me, if we stayed there longer, it would have turned into one. Thank you for the dance, by the way."

He took in how beautiful she looked even now, away from the ballroom lights.

She nodded, smiling. "You know, you confuse me much sometimes. But I have decided that it is just a part of your personality."

"That means you accept me for who I am?" he asked, suddenly invested in what her answer was going to be.

"Oh, believe me, I do."

Their gazes met again, and time felt as though it had stood still. Christopher was only thinking of one thing.

Could their relationship turn into something more romantic? In moments like this, it did not seem like a bad idea in the slightest.