Chapter 16

Christopher strode into the foyer, his face a mask of fury. He took in the scene before him—the twins clinging to Frances, Teresa standing rigid with barely suppressed rage.

"What is going on here?" he demanded, his voice low.

Frances looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and concern. "Christopher, your mother?—"

"Frances, take the children to their rooms," Christopher interrupted, his gaze never leaving Teresa. "I will handle this."

Frances nodded, gently guiding Edwin and Ernest towards the stairs. As they left, Teresa's voice rose.

"Is this the reason you have been avoiding your duty, Christopher? Is this vixen and these disgraceful children the reason the dukedom still lacks an heir?" Teresa's words were like venom, each one dripping with contempt.

Frances paused at the door, her eyes widening in surprise. She had known that Teresa was demanding, but she had not realized the depth of her obsession with the dukedom. She looked back at Christopher, torn between leaving as he had asked and staying to support him.

It was clear that the woman was not kind, even to her own son. It was no wonder then that Christopher had cut off all contact with her.

Christopher's expression hardened, his eyes blazing with anger. "Frances, please," he said quietly. "Take the children upstairs."

With a reluctant nod, Frances left the room, the sound of her footsteps echoing softly as she took the twins upstairs.

"What is happening?" Edwin questioned, his voice trembling.

"Nothing, it is nothing you should worry about." Frances quickly wrapped her arms around him. The last thing she wanted to was to traumatize the children more than they already were.

"Why is Grandmother so furious?" It was Ernest who spoke.

Frances's heart lurched as she saw how his cheek was still red from where Teresa had struck him.

She touched the side of his face gently. "It is nothing. Please, let us not think about it any longer. Now that your uncle is here, he will deal with it."

But the twins did not seem convinced. Of course, children were naturally curious, even about matters that they should not concern themselves with.

"Does Grandmother not like us?" Edwin asked innocently. "Is that why she never visited us either?"

Frances was immediately reminded of Lydia's letters. She often wrote about how Peter's mother had decided to have no contact with the children, and how much that had hurt both of them.

"It is not that," Frances assured him, even though she was lying. "Why don't we play a game to pass the time? I am sure your uncle will be coming up any minute now."

She wanted to distract the twins, but her eyes kept darting to the door, half expecting the Dowager Duchess to burst through the doors and cause more trouble.

* * *

Now that Frances and the children were out of earshot, Christopher turned to his mother, his voice cold and steely. "You have no right to come here and insult my family."

"Family?" Teresa spat. "These children are a disgrace! And that woman, she's nothing but a distraction. You have a duty to this dukedom, Christopher. You must provide an heir, whether you like it or not."

Christopher's jaw tightened. "My duty is to my family. These children are my heirs. That is my decision, and it will not change."

Teresa's eyes narrowed, her voice rising. "Even your worthless father did his duty! He provided an heir, despite his many failings. You should follow his example and do the same."

At the mention of his father, Christopher's expression darkened. He stepped closer to Teresa, his voice low and filled with menace. "Do not speak of my father again. Whatever he was, he was a better parent to me than you ever will be."

Teresa's face twisted with rage. "You are a fool, Christopher! The dukedom requires a proper heir, not these… orphans."

Christopher's eyes blazed so intensely that it made her take an involuntary step back. "These children are my brother's sons. They are my heirs. And that is final."

"You are making a grave mistake." Her words were meant to threaten, but he was beyond the point of caring now.

All he wanted was for peace to be restored in his little chosen family, and be as far away as possible from the woman who birthed him.

Turning away from his mother, Christopher called for the butler. "James," he said as the butler appeared, "please escort the Dowager Duchess out of the manor and see to it that she is never allowed entry again."

James bowed slightly, his face expressionless. "Yes, Your Grace."

Teresa's eyes widened with shock and fury. "You cannot do this, Christopher! I am your mother!"

Christopher met her gaze steadily. "I am the Duke of Huntington, and this is my decision. You have overstepped the boundaries, and you are no longer welcome here."

As James gently but firmly took Teresa's arm, she struggled, her voice rising. "You will regret this, Christopher! The dukedom will fall without a proper heir!"

Christopher watched in silence as his mother was escorted out of the manor. Once she was gone, he let out a slow breath, the tension draining from his shoulders. He turned and made his way upstairs to find Frances and the twins.

He will have to deal with his emotions later. Right now, what mattered was if the children were okay. And of course, Frances.

Heaven knows what sort of vitriol his mother had spilled in the time that he was not here.

He found them in the children's room. Frances was kneeling next to them on the floor, and they were playing some kind of game that involved paper and wooden sticks.

He almost cracked a smile at how wholesome the sight was. Even in the midst of chaos, Frances had somehow found a way to restore balance.

He knocked on the door gently, and the three of them turned to face him.

"Is she gone?" Ernest asked, his voice trembling.

Christopher knelt down, pulling both boys into a tight hug. "Yes, she's gone. And she won't be coming back."

He could feel Frances watching him closely. When he stood up, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.

"Thank you, Christopher," she whispered. "I do not know how bad that situation could have turned out, had you not arrived at the right time."

"Let's forget about it," he said to her in a soft voice. "I will always do whatever I can to protect our family."

It was then that he noticed that the children still looked out of sorts.

Christopher knew that he must change the topic.

"How about we all go to the library? I'll read us a story."

The twins' eyes lit up at the suggestion, and they eagerly nodded. "Yes, please!"

Frances and Christopher guided the boys down the hallway to the library, their small hands gripping theirs tightly. They settled onto a large, plush sofa, the twins nestled between Frances and Christopher.

"Shall we?"

Ernest and Edwin nodded.

Christopher began to read the story to them. All the while, Frances watched them fondly.

Soon, the tiredness overcame the twins, and they were about to drift off to sleep.

"Time for bed, boys," Christopher said gently.

The twins nodded, too tired to protest.

Frances and Christopher carried them to their room, before tucking them into their beds and kissing them goodnight.

Frances and Christopher left the room quietly, closing the door behind them. As they returned to their bedrooms, Christopher stopped Frances before she could disappear into her room.

"Frances."

* * *

Frances's heart lurched in her throat. She had been silently watching Christopher as he had read a story to the twins.

All the while, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. While he was smiling, it wasn't the genuine smile that she had come to know and love. It was a smile tinged with something she couldn't quite place—perhaps lingering anger or sadness.

"Can you spare a moment?" he asked when she did not immediately answer.

She snapped out of it immediately. "Why, yes. O-of course. Would you like to sit down?"

She gestured towards her room, and only after he accepted her offer did she realize what it looked like. She blushed wildly.

Christopher perched on the edge of her bed and cleared his throat. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened today…" He sighed, his fingers tapping on his thigh—it looked like a nervous gesture.

"It was quite strange," she mused, reluctantly sitting beside him. "Does she have a knack for showing up uninvited like this?"

"Not at all." Christopher shook his head. "It has been ten years since she even spoke. You can imagine that I was just as surprised as you were."

"Perhaps not just as surprised as me," she corrected him, trying to lighten the mood.

"You are right. It would be doubly shocking to you, considering I never even told you the curious case that my mother is…" Regret seeped into his tone, and Frances felt the urge to reach out and touch his shoulder. Make him feel better, in some small way.

But she resisted it. He was sitting on her bed already, and she did not know if it would be appropriate to touch him right now.

"I am sorry," she muttered under her breath.

His eyes flicked to hers, widening slightly in horror. "What do you have to be sorry for? If anything, it should be me who must apologize, profusely. She was not nice to you, and since she is my mother, the onus of responsibility lies on me."

"It's alright, Christopher," she soothed, noticing the subtle way his expression changed when she used his name. "You do not need to explain yourself like this. What I would like to know is if she plans on returning."

Christopher scoffed. "Not a chance. I have instructed the house staff to not let her in again, despite what she says. She might have been the lady of this house at some point, but she does not hold any sort of power anymore."

Frances's face tightened, and Christopher noticed right away. He reached out and touched her hands lightly.

"What is the matter?"

"Nothing, I was just…" She looked down, biting her lip. "Well, I was just thinking that, is it not possible to mend their broken relationship? As unkind as she can be, the Dowager Duchess is still the twins' grandmother," she pointed out. "They do not have a lot of blood relatives left, and… Well, do you think that there is any chance that their relationship can be repaired?"

Christopher stared at her in astonishment.

"What?" she asked when he did not immediately answer. "Did I say something wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing wrong, but… I am surprised, is all. Most people would take my mother's actions as a blow to their ego and never offer what you just did."

She could hear a clear admiration in his voice, and she twisted her fingers together in her lap.

"Well, if it was only me who was involved, then I could have considered taking it to heart. But like I said, this is about the children," she explained.

"That is quite big of you."

"I think it's the bare minimum that should be expected," she stated, causing him to crack a small smile.

"Well, as noble as your intentions are, I must tell you that is a terrible idea. My mother and I have been estranged for years, and I do not see it changing with the next generation either."

She could hear the pain in his voice, though he tried his best to mask it.

"Are you certain of it?" She searched his eyes for an explanation.

"I do not wish to bore you with the details. But yes, I am fairly certain of it."

"Well then, I am not going to push you regarding this." Frances nodded, straightening up.

She thought it was important for the children to have a relationship with their grandparents. But then again, she was not the only one who had the decision-making power.

"Thank you," Christopher said, his words laced with gratitude.

A small silence settled between the two of them, and they both seemed to be lost in their thoughts for a moment.

All the while, Christopher's gaze never left Frances. He was looking at her, thinking things that he did not bother to share.

When she looked up at him, she saw the same lingering sadness from before in his eyes. She could tell that he was trying his best to hide it. Perhaps it would have worked, too, if it were anyone else besides her.

But she knew when someone was hiding their real feelings. She had a talent for it, even.

"Christopher…" She finally broke the silence. "Please be honest with me. Are you alright?"

Her words seemed to have caught him off guard.

"I am just fine, Frances." He gave her a bright smile, but it did not reach his eyes.

"I do not believe you for a second," she huffed.

"Really now? Have you already become an expert in what my moods are?" He raised an eyebrow teasingly.

"I would like to think I know enough. Especially when you smile, as you do it so often. Right now, you are smiling, but I can tell that it is not genuine. It is one that is masking something deeper behind it."

"Very well then. You are quite observant, I'll give you that," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Observant? Does that mean I am also correct?" she pressed.

She did not know what her goal was in finding out his true feelings. Perhaps when he admits them, she could try to make him feel better then.

She just wanted to see him smiling and happy again, as she knew him.

"I only said observant." He gave her a sheepish smile. "Don't you tire out, Frances?"

Frances self-consciously glanced at the clock. It was late already.

"I suppose I will retire to bed soon?—"

"That's not what I meant." He chuckled loudly, seeming thoroughly amused. "I meant, do you never tire out by always looking out for everyone? The twins, your family, and now… me. You even have a soft spot for my horrid mother."

"Oh…" Frances pursed her lips. "I suppose it's just something that comes naturally to me. I have never quite put too much thought into it."

He was staring at her intently again. Leaning forward, he brushed a strand of her hair from her face. His fingers lingered just a second longer than they ought, andher breath hitched in her throat.

Suddenly, she wanted to kiss him again. They were in the privacy of her room and would not be interrupted.

But before things could escalate, Christopher withdrew his hands and folded them on his lap.

"It's quite rare," he admitted in a low whisper. "The kind of person that you are. I do not think I have ever met someone as selfless as you."

Frances's cheeks burned at the comment. Surely, he was being a little too kind to her.

"I just wanted to thank you again today. You were there to protect the twins from my mother before I even knew what was going on," he continued. "And you were there for them when they needed you."

"I owe you a thank you as well," she admitted, but he hushed her straight away.

"There is no need for that. When I married you, I promised to protect you as well. If anything, this incident has taught me that I need to do a better job at it."

Their gaze met again, and tension crackled in the air between them.

"I should like to ask you this one last time," she pressed. "Are you truly alright?"

Perhaps it was the vulnerability of the moment or the soft manner in which she had asked him, but he finally relented.

"I'm fine, Frances. Just… still processing everything. You should not worry so much."

Frances gazed at him, her hand cupping his cheek. "You don't have to hide how you're feeling from me. I will not judge you for anything."

"I am aware." A smile tugged at his lips.

"Then why the hesitation?"

Christopher sighed, leaning into her touch. "It's just… my mother always knows how to get under my skin. And the things she said about the boys… it dredged up a lot of old anger."

Frances nodded, understanding. "That must be hard. But you handled it well."

Christopher's smile softened, becoming more genuine. "Now, no more talk about this. We should only focus on the happy things from now on."

"As you wish."

He got up to take his leave, kissing her forehead lightly. Tingles rushed through her entire body. It was such a simple gesture, but it was also so intimate.

As she watched him leave her bedroom, Frances couldn't shake the feeling that something more bothered him, something he wasn't ready to share yet.

But tonight, she had pushed him enough. It would have to be a conversation for another day.

As she got ready for bed, Frances decided to give him the space he needed, trusting that he would open up when he was ready.