Chapter 11

Eleven

A s Victor approached the drawing room, he was greeted by a chorus of giggles filtering through the half-open door. He paused for a moment, then heard someone whisper, "Father is coming!" His initial instinct was to slow his steps and eavesdrop on whatever mischief they were concocting, but that would only confirm that he had overheard them. He straightened his shoulders and continued, his steps deliberate, giving no indication of his awareness.

When he entered, Agnes scrambled to sit beside Katherine, all of his daughters wearing faces of pure innocence. It was a sight that immediately raised his suspicions. His eyes swept the room, noting the absence of his wife. Where is Christina? he wondered, though his focus quickly returned to the little imps seated before him, their expressions far too angelic for his liking.

"I trust you all had a good day?" he ventured, raising an eyebrow.

They nodded and smiled, though no one spoke. That alone was cause for concern. These were his daughters—lively, mischievous creatures who could hardly sit still for more than a moment. Silence, especially this collective silence, was unnatural.

"Out with it," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you plotting?"

Katherine, the eldest and often the most composed, blinked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Plotting, Father? Whatever could we possibly be plotting? We're merely waiting for you and Mother so we can eat dinner."

Victor blinked. Mother . It was the first time he had heard any of them refer directly to Christina as such. The title made sense, of course. That was the very reason he had married her—to give his daughters a mother. And yet, hearing it stirred something unfamiliar within him. Was it unease? Or perhaps something deeper? He hadn't quite figured it out.

Shaking off the thought, he turned his attention to Amelia. "And you, my dear, what are you up to?"

Amelia's eyes gleamed with mischief, but she didn't hold back her laughter. "Oh, Father, don't try to be charming. You simply haven't the talent for it."

The other girls erupted into fits of giggles, much to his chagrin. Victor was about to protest when a soft, melodic voice cut through the laughter.

"Some princes have a hidden charm," Christina's voice rang out from the doorway. "And your father is certainly one of them."

Victor turned sharply, his breath catching in his throat. There she stood, radiant and every inch a duchess. She wore a deep green velvet gown, the silver embroidery at the hem and neckline catching the light. Her hair, fiery and captivating, was elegantly arranged in a chignon, and her green eyes gleamed with life and mischief. She looked ethereal, like a vision from a dream. A man's dream.

He caught himself on that thought and cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. Christina curtsied gracefully, and Victor stepped forward, taking her gloved hand in his. Without thinking, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles, a rare, spontaneous gesture that surprised even him.

A faint blush colored her cheeks, and Victor found himself momentarily unable to look away. He realized, with some dismay, that he had been holding her hand longer than intended. Clearing his throat once more, he released her hand, straightening his posture in an attempt to appear unfazed.

Agnes, ever the little imp, snorted with laughter. "Father is not a prince," she declared with the confidence of an eight-year-old. "He's a duke! But Mother is a wonderful princess."

Victor glanced at Christina, feeling his expression softening despite himself. "You've stolen my children's loyalty," he muttered under his breath.

Christina's lips twitched into a playful smile. "I would say I've earned it, Your Grace."

Before he could respond, dinner was announced, and the family made their way to the dining room. Victor found himself walking alongside Christina, her presence both disarming and strangely comforting.

Once seated, they began the meal in relative quiet, though the girls could hardly contain their excitement. It wasn't long before Cassidy eagerly began recounting the events of the day.

"We visited Mr. Danvers and the other tenants!" she exclaimed between bites. "And we introduced the Duchess to everyone. They were all so happy to meet her!"

Victor's brows rose slightly, and his gaze flicked from the children to Christina. A wave of guilt washed over him. It was my duty to present her to the realm, he thought. Not theirs. How had he overlooked such an important responsibility?

Shifting slightly in his seat, he offered a compliment, masking his discomfort. "You have done well. I commend you all."

He turned to Christina, his tone softening. "And how did you find Willsbury, Duchess?"

Her eyes brightened at the question, and for a moment, Victor's guilt deepened. "I found it utterly charming," she replied, her voice warm. "I look forward to returning and discovering more about the village and its people. I daresay it will become a favorite of mine."

Victor nodded, and as he turned his attention back to his meal, Christina placed a gentle hand on his arm. The touch startled him, but he turned to meet her gaze.

"Thank you for allowing Annabelle to visit," she said softly, her gratitude sincere.

He murmured something in response, though his thoughts were elsewhere. There was a grief and hollowness in his life that Christina had reminded of the night before, and he was uncertain how he ought to address it.

As soon as Christina heard the sound of carriage wheels crunching over the gravel, her heart leaped, and she sprang from her seat, her pulse quickening. She barely noticed Agnes on her heels as she hurried toward the foyer.

The carriage had come to a halt just outside, and the door swung open. Annie alighted gracefully, her movements so precise and measured, but the instant her gaze met Christina's, her poise crumbled. A soft cry escaped her lips as she ran toward her sister, arms outstretched.

"Annie!" Christina breathed, rushing forward to meet her. She enveloped her sister in a tight embrace, holding her as though she might never let go. For a moment, Christina shut her eyes, relishing the warmth and familiarity of the hug.

Agnes, standing beside them, grinned up sweetly at Annie. "Welcome to Kilton Castle," she said, her voice small and adorably polite.

Christina couldn't help but smile at Agnes's sweetness. "Thank you, Agnes," she said softly, brushing a hand over her shoulder.

At that moment, Kitty appeared, and behind her, Amelia and Cassidy came dashing into view, all enthusiasm and excitement. The girls practically tumbled over one another in their rush, talking at once, their words mixing in a cacophony of eager voices.

"Oh, Annie, we're so glad you're here!" Amelia exclaimed, her words colliding with Cassidy's equally enthusiastic greeting.

"We've been waiting for days!" Cassidy added, speaking over Amelia.

Annie, wide-eyed, looked to Christina for some kind of guidance, clearly overwhelmed by the flurry of attention.

"Girls," Christina gently reminded, raising a hand to calm the rush. "One at a time, please. Let Annie catch her breath."

Cassidy, ever the exuberant one, smiled brightly and began, "We're so excited to have you here, Annie. Welcome!"

Amelia, not to be outdone, followed swiftly. "Yes, welcome! We can't wait to show you the castle and everything in it!"

Annie, still regaining her composure, gave them both a warm smile. "Thank you, I'm so pleased to be here." She then looked up, spotting Kitty standing quietly behind the others.

A soft smile touched Annie's lips. "Kitty, it's lovely to see you."

Kitty, ever composed, smiled softly in return. "And you, Annie. It is most pleasant to have you with us."

Their calm exchange was a marked contrast to the younger girls' excited chattering, and it brought a tender warmth to Christina's heart.

Kitty then stepped forward, ever the little lady. "Shall I show you to your chambers? They're just beside mine."

Annie nodded eagerly, and before Christina could offer further assistance, the girls whisked her away, rushing up the stairs with gleeful chatter. Christina lingered in the grand foyer for a moment, smiling as their voices faded into the distance.

Her smile, however, dimmed as her gaze landed on the figure standing in the archway leading toward Victor's study. Miss Peversly. Christina's eyes narrowed, though only slightly, her guard instinctively rising. The governess, dressed in her usual severe black gown, curtsied with an air of deference that was almost too perfect, too polished.

Christina inclined her head in response, masking her wariness. Despite the governess's outwardly respectful demeanor, Christina had not forgotten her earlier outburst. Nor could she ignore the fact that Victor had allowed Miss Peversly to remain in the castle, a decision that rankled her more than she cared to admit.

"Your Grace," Miss Peversly greeted, her voice as polished as her curtsy. "I trust all is well."

Christina forced a smile. "Quite well, thank you. And how goes the search for the new governess?"

Miss Peversly's dark eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Ah, Your Grace, I have been meaning to speak with you on that matter."

"Of course," Christina replied, her tone crisp but courteous. She motioned toward the drawing room. "Shall we sit?"

As they entered the room, Christina felt a knot of tension coil in her stomach. The governess was unusually polite today, and Christina could not help but wonder what prompted this change in behavior. They took their seats, eyeing one another with a sense of wariness, like opponents on a chessboard awaiting the next move.

"I wish to first offer my sincerest apologies," Miss Peversly began, her voice measured and soft. "I cannot explain my conduct from before. I do not know what came over me."

Christina's brow lifted, though she remained silent. The governess's tone was indeed contrite, and her expression appeared softened, her normally sharp eyes filled with what could only be described as sorrow. But is it genuine? Christina wondered, unwilling to trust too quickly.

After a moment's consideration, Christina nodded once, accepting the apology—at least outwardly. "Very well."

Miss Peversly inclined her head in gratitude. "Thank you, Your Grace. I do hope to make amends. In that vein, I wish to discuss the children's education. It has been… paused since my dismissal."

Christina's lips tightened. "Their education will resume when a new governess is appointed."

"Of course," Miss Peversly agreed. "However, if I may, I would like to continue instructing them in the interim. A young lady's education must never be neglected."

Christina's gaze hardened slightly. "I shall discuss the matter with His Grace before any decision is made."

Miss Peversly's smile did not waver, though there was a glint of something else in her eyes now, something sharper. "I understand. I merely wish to offer my services should you require them."

Christina nodded again, more out of formality than agreement. The conversation left a bitter taste in her mouth, though she could not yet place why.

The governess rose then, curtsying once more, her movements fluid and precise. "I am also diligently seeking a suitable replacement, Your Grace. You have my assurance."

"Good," Christina said curtly as she rose from her seat. "Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

Miss Peversly hesitated for a fraction of a second, then shook her head. "No, Your Grace. That will be all."

With that, she curtsied again—far too politely, Christina thought—and took her leave.

Christina stood there for a moment, alone in the drawing room, her thoughts unsettled. The governess's behavior had been too cordial, too deferential. It was as though Miss Peversly was playing some game, and Christina wasn't quite sure of the rules.

As she exited the room, a chill ran down her spine, though she couldn't quite explain why. All she knew was that the sooner Miss Peversly left Kilton Castle, the better.