Chapter 19

Nineteen

"A melia, do not finish the blueberry tarts!" Cassidy warned, and a slight smile touched Victor's features. The girls' giggles, as they darted around the gardens, had become a sound Victor had come to anticipate as he worked in his study. It was a pleasant distraction that he never allowed for himself before. His window was open, and every precious sound reached his ears.

Christina's voice followed, light yet commanding as she reassured the children, "I shall send for more tarts from the kitchens, no need to squabble."

Victor's smile faded. He had intentionally kept his distance from Christina these past two days since their disagreement in the library, seeing her only during dinner, where Ashing's presence mercifully filled the silence between them. It wasn't that he didn't want to see her—no, the opposite was true, and therein lay the problem. Victor needed to be harsh so she would keep away from him and not affect him.

Every time she spoke, every time she laughed with the children, he found himself irresistibly drawn to her. He could barely keep himself from rising from his chair now and watching her through the window.

A faint knock at the door pulled him from his reverie.

"Enter," he called. The door opened, and Agnes poked her head in, her hazel eyes bright and cheeks flushed from the outdoors. She grinned, and Victor's heart softened.

"May I come in, Father?" she asked sweetly, her voice carrying that shy lilt he had begun to associate with moments when the girls needed something special.

Victor nodded. "Of course, Agnes, come in."

She stepped inside, closing the door gently behind her. Standing before his desk, she glanced down at her shoes, her small fingers fiddling with the hem of her bright green frock. The sight made something warm stir within him—an emotion he rarely indulged. He offered her a smile, though more restrained than before.

"And what brings you here?" he asked, intrigued by her sudden bout of timidity. "You seem uncharacteristically shy."

Agnes shuffled her feet and then peeked up at him through long lashes. "I... I have a very important request," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "One that would mean a great deal to me, to Kitty, Cassidy, and Amelia." She paused, then added with a quick grin, "And even Annie."

Victor raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. Rising from his chair, he circled the desk and crouched before her, taking both of her small hands in his. The act was spontaneous, as if he could offer her more comfort by simply being nearer to her.

"And what might that important request be?" he asked, his voice gentler now, his eyes searching hers.

Agnes hesitated, her lips pressing together before she gathered the courage to speak. "We... we were hoping you might come and play with us... in the gardens."

Victor blinked, taken aback by the simplicity and sincerity of the request. Play? When was the last time anyone had asked him such a thing? The question lingered in the air between them, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words.

Agnes tugged at his hands slightly, her wide eyes imploring him. "Please, Father. It would mean so much to us."

Victor's chest tightened. He had been so focused on order and duty, on maintaining control over his household and his emotions, that he hadn't allowed himself to be part of their world—Christina's world. The world that was filled with laughter, joy, and connection.

And yet, even as he stood there, he could feel the weight of his responsibilities tugging him back. There was always something pressing, always something more serious to attend to. But looking into Agnes' eyes, he wondered—was there anything more important than this?

He let out a soft breath, his resolve wavering. "You want me to play with you? In the gardens?"

Agnes nodded eagerly. "Yes, we're playing a game, and we need you to be a part of it. Please, Father."

Victor glanced toward the window, where the sun bathed the gardens in a soft, golden light. He could hear the distant echoes of laughter from the other girls. Then his gaze drifted back to Agnes, whose hopeful expression was impossible to resist.

"Very well," he finally conceded, his voice low. "I shall come and play, but only for a short while."

Agnes' face lit up with joy, and she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Father!" she exclaimed before pulling back and dashing toward the door, calling out to the others. "He's coming!"

Victor straightened, watching her bound out of the room. His heart felt unexpectedly light, though his mind still clung to doubts. He was not a man for frivolities, and yet... there was something about the way the girls—and Christina—made him feel that unnerved him.

He sighed, adjusting his cravat before heading toward the door.

Victor stepped into the garden, the sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees casting dappled shadows across the ground. His eyes immediately found Ashing and Christina seated at a wrought iron table, their faces illuminated by the warm light of the late afternoon. The girls ran about the garden, their laughter carrying on the gentle breeze.

He paused, lingering in the shadow of the archway, his gaze fixed on Christina. She laughed at something Ashing said, her head tilting back as the sound of her amusement filled the air, clear and melodious. There was a brightness to her that caught Victor off guard, a lightness he had not realized he missed. His frown deepened. He could not recall ever making her laugh like that. A strange, unfamiliar discomfort settled within him, as if something precious had slipped from his grasp without him knowing.

At that moment, her eyes found his, and her expression softened. There was no surprise in her gaze, only warmth. She smiled, and Victor's breath caught in his throat, the sudden surge of emotion entirely unwelcome. Before he could gather his thoughts, Christina stood, her movements graceful as she glided toward him.

"Ah, now that you are here, we can begin the treasure hunt," she declared brightly, the girls pausing in their play to look his way with eager anticipation.

Victor blinked, caught off guard. "Treasure hunt?" he echoed, his voice betraying the slight confusion he felt.

Christina's smile widened as she reached for a small piece of paper resting on the table. With a mischievous gleam in her eyes, she handed it to him. "Your first clue," she said, her voice low and teasing.

Ashing, grinning like a schoolboy, removed his coat and folded his sleeves, clearly ready to participate. "This shall be good fun!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together in anticipation.

Cassidy and Amelia, their faces flushed with excitement, bounded over to declare their inevitable victory. "We'll win, Father! You and Uncle Ashing don't stand a chance!" Amelia teased, her eyes gleaming with challenge.

Victor unfolded the paper in his hand, his brow furrowing slightly as he read the clue aloud. "In fields where children play,

I stand with gold, then turn gray."

He glanced up from the riddle, his sharp mind already working through the puzzle. "A dandelion," he deduced, his tone more confident than questioning.

Christina's eyes sparkled with approval, but she did not give away the answer. Instead, she leaned in just a touch closer, her voice playful as she said, "Find the dandelion, and you'll be one step closer to the treasure."

Victor's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than he intended, the teasing lilt of her voice sending a ripple of something unsettling through him. She was different today, or perhaps it was he who had changed. He couldn't quite decide which.

"What, pray tell, is the treasure?" he asked, his voice lower than before.

Christina raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. "Ah, that, Your Grace, you shall discover when you find it."

Ashing clapped Victor on the back, nearly knocking him off balance. "Come, man! Don't let the ladies outwit us!" he boomed with laughter, already striding toward the nearest patch of wildflowers.

Victor stood a little apart, watching them with a fondness he scarcely recognized within himself. Ashing, ever the charming rogue, had crouched down beside Cassidy, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. "Now, Cassidy, are you certain you haven't missed a clue near that fountain?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement as she darted off toward the stone fountain with renewed determination.

Christina, seated beneath the rose-covered arch, smiled softly as she observed the scene. Her gaze, however, kept straying to Victor, whose countenance was less severe than usual, softened by the sight of his daughters enjoying themselves. It was a rare thing to see him so unguarded, and she found herself drawn to it.

"Papa!" Agnes's excited voice rang out as she knelt by the oak tree, her small hands rifling through the ivy at its base. "I've found it!"

Victor crossed the garden in measured strides, bending down to take the small envelope Agnes held aloft. He glanced at her, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Well done, Agnes. Shall we see what this says?"

He opened the envelope and pulled out the slip of parchment within. His voice was deep and steady as he read aloud:

"A place where roses bloom and scent the air, A clue you'll find hidden somewhere fair. Beneath the blossoms where sweet things grow, Look there next, and you'll soon know."

Agnes's eyes gleamed with excitement. "The rose garden! It must be!"

Christina laughed softly, her voice warm. "I do believe you are right, Agnes. Come along now, let's see where this takes us."

The girls dashed ahead, their light steps carrying them through the garden paths, with Victor, Ashing, and Christina trailing behind. Victor found himself watching Christina more than the children, noting the way the sunlight played on her fiery hair, the soft curve of her smile as she watched their daughters. She had orchestrated this little diversion beautifully, drawing him out of his study with such cunning he could scarcely believe it.

He approached her, standing close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed. "Sending Agnes to fetch me was very clever of you, Christina," he murmured, his voice low. "Wickedly clever, in fact."

Christina turned her head, her lips curving into a playful smile. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist her charm, Victor. No man with a heart could."

He leaned in a fraction closer, the faintest trace of a smirk pulling at his lips. "You are quite right, of course. I've never been able to say no to her."

The space between them felt charged, as though the air itself was thick with an unspoken tension. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than it should have, and before he could stop himself, he reached up and gently smoothed a stray curl from her brow. The touch of her hair, soft and fiery against his fingers, sent an unexpected thrill through him.

Christina's breath caught, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Their eyes locked, the world around them seemingly slipping away. Then, as if remembering himself, Victor straightened, his expression carefully schooled back into one of decorum.

"We mustn't fall behind," he said, his voice betraying none of the tumult within him.

They continued toward the rose garden, where the girls had already begun their search beneath the blooming blossoms. Kitty knelt by one of the larger bushes, her brow furrowed in concentration as she peered into the shrubbery. Amelia was not far from her, examining the base of a sundial.

At last, it was Cassidy who cried out, her voice triumphant. "Here! I've found another one!"

Ashing was at her side in an instant, his laughter ringing out as he clapped her on the shoulder. "Well done, my dear Cassidy. Let's see what this clue has in store for us."

Cassidy handed the envelope to Christina, who unfolded the parchment and read it aloud:

" To find the treasure, you must seek a place where water flows, swift and sleek. Where stones are smooth and moss does grow, the prize is hidden in the cool below ."

Annabelle's eyes lit up. "The stream!" she declared, her voice filled with excitement. "We must go to the stream!"

Agnes grabbed her hand, and together, the two of them rushed off toward the gentle brook that ran through the far end of the garden, the others following quickly behind. The stream's water glistened in the late afternoon light, and the sound of it babbling over smooth stones filled the air with a tranquil melody.

Annabelle and Agnes knelt at the water's edge, their small hands carefully sifting through the moss-covered stones. It was Agnes who let out a shriek of delight, her fingers brushing against something solid beneath the rocks. "Annabelle, help me!"

Together, they pulled free a small wooden box, its surface worn smooth by time but clearly still intact. They carried it to Christina, who beamed at their discovery. "Let's see what treasure you've uncovered, shall we?"

With careful hands, she opened the lid, revealing an assortment of sweetmeats nestled within. The girls gasped in delight, their eyes wide as they beheld the sugary treasure.

"Sweetmeats!" Agnes exclaimed, her voice filled with awe. "We found the treasure!"

Annabelle, ever the thoughtful one, immediately began distributing the treats. "We must share it, of course," she said, handing pieces to her sisters.

The girls ran to Victor, Ashing, and Christina, offering the sweets with beaming faces. Victor accepted his with a quiet smile, something warm settling in his chest as he watched his daughters so full of joy and kindness.

"They found it, Victor," Christina said softly beside him, her voice filled with pride. "They won."

Victor nodded, his eyes on the girls as they shared the treasure amongst themselves. He hadn't expected to feel this… overwhelmed. A simple game, yet it had stirred something within him—something he hadn't been prepared for. The sight of his daughters so happy, so carefree, filled him with a deep, unfamiliar emotion.

He swallowed hard, suddenly needing distance, needing space to think. "Excuse me," he muttered, his voice rougher than intended. Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, his steps quick and purposeful.

As he moved further from the group, the sounds of their laughter growing distant, he heard Amelia's voice, small and worried, ask Christina, "What did we do wrong to send Father away?"

Victor's chest tightened painfully at her words, the weight of them pressing down on him like a leaden stone.