Chapter 15

Fifteen

"T his is from His Grace, Your Grace," Addison said softly, handing Christina a folded note.

Christina brushed a few stray curls away from her face, curiosity piquing her as she opened the paper. Her eyes skimmed the words, and her breath hitched slightly.

I invite you to join me for a ride this morning. I shall be waiting at the stables.

Victor.

She stared at the contents of the letter a moment longer, as if needing to confirm the invitation was real. Then, before she could stop herself, a wide grin spread across her face. She sprang from the bed, excitement bubbling within her.

"Fetch my riding habit, Addison!" she said, her voice alight with anticipation.

Addison raised a brow, but hurried to do as she was bid. Christina could barely stand still as she dressed, her thoughts swirling. Victor had invited her. Perhaps this was his way of making amends after the quiet tension of the day before, after the disappointment that had weighed heavily on her when she had declined to join him for dinner. This gesture felt like a peace offering—or at the very least, an olive branch.

Once dressed, she made her way down to the stables, her heart pounding a little faster than usual. As she approached, she spotted Victor standing between two horses—a striking bay stallion and a gray mare. The early morning light filtered through the stable doors, catching the dampness of his dark hair. He was dressed in a fine blue morning coat, his tall frame composed with that effortless elegance she had come to associate with him.

Her heart gave a small, traitorous flutter, but she schooled her features into a semblance of calm.

Victor turned as she approached, his gaze settling on her. "Good morning. How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice low and even.

"I am better," Christina replied, managing a smile.

Victor gestured toward the mare. "This is Angelique," he said. "And this," he added, nodding to the stallion, "is Toro."

Christina's smile widened at the introduction. "You named them?" she asked, amusement dancing in her tone.

Victor offered the faintest of smiles. "I did."

She let out a soft laugh. "Well, it seems you have a softer heart in that stone chest of yours than I thought."

The slight curve of his lips almost hinted at a smile, but it was fleeting. He handed her the reins to Angelique. "I trust you will find her suitable for our ride."

Christina's mood dimmed slightly as she eyed the side saddle. She had never been fond of it. "I see you've chosen a side saddle for me," she said, a note of displeasure in her voice.

Victor's brow lifted. "Indeed. I am here to teach you how to use it properly."

Her heart sank. So that was it . She had thought he meant to make amends, but no—he wanted to correct her behavior, to mold her into something more befitting a duchess. Her fingers tightened around the reins as she looked him in the eye. "I already know how to use a side saddle," she said plainly.

"Then why do you not use it?" Victor's question came as he stepped closer, and her breath caught.

For a brief moment, her mind flashed to the library, to the moment he had nearly kissed her. She wondered, as he stood so near now, if he might dare repeat that closeness. She cleared her throat, trying to steady herself. "Because I loathe it. It is not nearly as comfortable as ridding astride."

Victor's brow arched slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Being a duchess comes with a measure of discomfort, I'm afraid."

Christina frowned. "It is only uncomfortable if her duke is difficult to deal with."

He smirked, his tone teasing. "Difficult, am I?"

"Immensely so," she shot back, her chin lifting despite the smile fighting to break through. "I daresay your very presence creates most of the discomfort in my life."

His smirk deepened into something like amusement. "And yet you seem to tolerate it well enough."

Christina's lips quirked as she looked up at him. "I am nothing if not resilient."

Victor's gaze lingered on her, and for a moment, she thought he might say something more. But then he stepped forward and nodded toward Angelique. "May I?"

She blinked in confusion until she realized what he meant. He was offering to help her mount. The nearness of him, the small, unspoken gestures—it made her pulse quicken. Though she still hated the idea of the side saddle, she nodded.

Victor's hands came around her waist, his touch firm yet gentle. Her breath hitched as he lifted her with surprising ease, settling her atop the mare as though she weighed nothing. He handed her the reins with a quiet, "You look quite the duchess now."

Christina, still catching her breath from the brief contact, glanced down at him. "You may look like a prince, Your Grace, but you are certainly not one. You are far too serious."

To her astonishment, Victor laughed—an easy, genuine laugh that she had never seen from him before. She blinked, momentarily at a loss.

"You rescind my title so quickly?" he teased. "Am I not deserving of such esteem?"

"Not when you've been less than charming this morning," she countered, her lips curling.

Victor mounted Toro with practiced ease, glancing over at her. "And what might I do to regain this charm you speak of?"

Christina gave him a pointed look. "You could start by ridding me of this cursed side saddle."

He shook his head, clearly amused. "Unbelievable."

Christina laughed softly, and together they rode out of the stables and toward the woods. The silence was companionable, peaceful even, though her heart still raced at the thought of being here with him.

After a few moments, Victor broke the quiet. "I noticed Agnes at supper last night, watching Lady Annabelle's every move. She was eating like a lady, mimicking her exact table manners."

Christina smiled, warmth filling her chest. "Annie's influence is good for them. The children are eager to learn, but more than that, they are eager to spend time with you."

Victor's silence suggested that he might have taken her words to heart. He acted more than he spoke—this much she had come to understand about him. Perhaps this ride was his way of acknowledging her efforts, of offering her a quiet thank you for the changes in his daughters.

She glanced over at him, a small smile on her lips. Perhaps this day held more promise than she had first thought.

"When did you learn how to ride?" Victor asked, glancing over at Christina as they rode side by side. His voice was calm, curious, though his gaze held something more—something searching.

Christina straightened in the saddle, adjusting her grip on the reins as she answered. "When I turned four, my father made the arrangements. He said it was time I learned to ride, though I hardly remember being given a choice in the matter."

Victor's eyes flickered with the faintest hint of approval. "You ride elegantly."

Christina laughed, the sound light and teasing. "If this is your way of trying to convince me never to ride stride again, I must say you should reconsider your methods. Compliments will not change my mind."

His mouth twitched slightly at her teasing, a nearly imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Why do you insist on doing things differently?"

She turned to him, her expression softening but filled with a quiet determination. "Because I am different, an aberration in a world of order." She added playfully, her voice lifting, "And besides, you can't get rid of me now."

To her surprise, Victor's smile deepened, though it remained small. He nodded ever so slightly. "No, I cannot."

A comfortable silence fell between them as they continued riding, the sound of hooves rhythmically breaking the quiet of the morning. Christina watched the trees pass by, the light filtering through the leaves creating shifting patterns of shadows and sunlight on the path before them. After a moment, she realized the path they were taking had begun to wind and meander deeper into the forest.

"Do you ride this path often?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Victor's expression tightened slightly as he looked ahead, his hesitation palpable. Finally, he spoke, his tone softer than before. "My brother Christian discovered this path when he was eight. I was ten. We used to walk it, sometimes ride it, until we discovered where it led."

Christina tilted her head, intrigued by the glimpse into his past. "And where does it lead?"

For a long moment, he said nothing, his eyes fixed on the path before them. Then, with a measured breath, he answered, "It leads to a lake."

"Have the girls been there?"

His reaction was immediate, and his tone more guarded than she expected. "No. I would not allow them to venture that far into the woods."

They likely have without your knowledge. Christina sensed a shift in his demeanor and decided to tread carefully. "Was your brother very adventurous?"

His jaw clenched at the question, and she instantly regretted it. It took him several seconds before he spoke, his voice tight. "He was too adventurous for his own good."

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken words, and Christina bit her lip, realizing she had touched upon something that closed him off once more. To ease the tension, she offered a gentle smile and said, "Angelique is quite well trained. She responds beautifully."

Victor's features relaxed slightly, and he glanced at the mare. "I trained her—and Toro—myself."

Christina blinked, her jaw dropping slightly. "I don't believe you," she said, her tone teasing to lighten the mood.

His brow lifted, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I can tame anything."

Her grin widened, and before she could stop herself, she added, "Anything except your daughters""

Victor's expression softened further, and he gave a slow nod. "And my wife, it seems."

The warmth in her chest spread, though she tried to mask it with a light laugh. Their banter felt easy, natural. She hadn't expected this from him—a man so often shrouded in reserve.

Just then, a sharp creak overhead broke the moment. Christina's gaze snapped upward just as something moved in the trees above. Before she could fully register what it was, Angelique reared back in panic.

"Whoa!" Christina cried, tightening her grip on the reins, desperately trying to calm the horse. But the mare's hooves landed unevenly on the rocky ground beneath them, and the next thing Christina knew, the world tilted violently.

Christina felt herself slipping. She tried to regain control, but it was too late—the mare fell, and Christina was thrown to the ground.