Page 56 of A Duke's Christmas Carol
“Come in,” he said, rising from his chair.
The door opened and Valerie took a few uncertain steps inside, closing the door behind her.
To his surprise, she was not attired as she had been in his study, but wore that somewhat vexing housecoat of hers. Hiding the nightdress beneath, though he knew it was all she had on; he could see the lacy hemjustprotruding from the edge of the outer garment.
“Please, sit,” he instructed.
She gave a quick dip of her head and walked to the armchairs by the fire. At the nearest one, she paused to look around the bedchamber, before slowly sinking into the chair. She did not sit comfortably, somewhat perched, her posture too rigid, her demeanor not at all relaxed.
It bewildered him that, earlier that evening, there had not been a jot of awkwardness between them. Yet, now, it was is if there wassome manner of distance in the way that neither of them knew how to traverse.
“What is your drink of choice?” he asked.
Valerie cleared her throat. “Port, if you have it.”
“It reminds you of your mother,” he said, remembering.
We drank it in the library…
A shy smile graced her plump lips. “It does.”
So, perhaps he did not knownothingabout Valerie. He knew what drink she favored and why she favored it. Yet, as he thought back, he was certain he had asked her about her mother… or had been about to; he could not quite recall. Then, she had turned the conversation toward him without really answering anything, suggesting that her mother was not a topic she wished to discuss.
“Tell me about her,” he said, pouring a measure for them both from the nearby decanter. “She must have meant a lot to you, for you smile when she is mentioned.”
Valerie’s pretty eyes widened in something like surprise. “She… did.” She cleared her throat again. “Forgive me, I still find it difficult to speak of her in the past tense. Being away from Gramfield, especially, it is easy to forget that she is not there waiting.”
“I understand the feeling,” he replied, passing her one of the glasses.
A tight chuckle emerged from her throat. “Yes, I suppose you, of all people, would.” She gazed down into the ruby port and frowned. “She was the most wonderful mother. Adored us children entirely. I was the lucky one—I got fifteen years with her, while my brother and sister only got three and one, respectively. I, myself, carry some guilt about that.”
“They must look atyouas a mother,” Adrian remarked, sitting opposite her.
Valerie gave a small shrug. “Perhaps, though I do not always do well at it. I try my best, I tell them stories of our mother so they do not forget, and I like to think I adore them as much as Mama did.” Her voice hitched. “My father is not a nice man. I have tried to do as she did, protecting them from his… greed, his selfishness, his wretchedness.”
A memory came back to Adrian, of Valerie in her chambers, so very disturbed by the silence. He remembered her mentioning her father’s drunkenness, and why the quiet unnerved her, for her home was only silent when her father had been imbibing.
“Then, I came north, and I rather feel as if I have failed them by undertaking this endeavor,” she added quietly, and lifted the glass to her lips.
Of course. Her journey to Scotland.
“I am sure that cannot be true. They are with the housekeeper, whom you said treated them like a mother would,” Adrian said, settling into the comfort of her company now that there were things to discuss. “They will be missing you, no doubt, but that is only a sign of how much they cherish you.”
Valerie took another gulp of her port. “They encouraged me to leave, in truth, but when you have taken care of two people for so long, it still feels strange to be where they are not.”
“Encouraged you?” Adrian leaned in. “Indeed, what brought you northward in the first place? I do not believe I have asked before.”
For a short while, Valerie did not reply, her gaze so fixed upon the gleam of her drink that Adrian wondered if she had fallen into some manner of trance. Afflicted, as she had been in her chambers when the silence became too much. Perhaps, the quiet had become overwhelming again.
“Valerie?” he prompted gently.
Her head snapped up. “Hmm? Oh… it is a long story.”
“I do not have anywhere to be,” he replied. “The benefit of being mostly a hermit.”
A slight furrow narrowed her eyes, then a small, bright laugh pealed from her lips. The most beautiful sound… and he had been the one to conjure it.
“I can never tell when you are jesting,” she said, still chuckling. “It is a wonderful surprise when I realize that you are.”
