Page 22 of An Unforeseen Kiss (Captivating Kisses #4)
Val excused himself and left the morning parlor, returning to his study.
He took a seat, almost bemused. His mother had certainly convinced everyone in the household—including him—that she was upset by her husband’s death.
He could see now that she was free and had the opportunity to become a new person, or she might even be the person she always had been and not the one stifled in her marriage by an overbearing husband.
He went to the stables as planned and joined up with his sisters, cousins, and Miss Snow to go riding about the estate again.
The girls did not seem to think anything of it when the two of them paired off and rode together, conversing the entire time.
Today, he showed them the area where the tenants’ cottages lay, and then they followed the stream that separated his property from Lord Arden, his neighbor.
They returned and took tea, where Justina spoke of a history lesson from this morning. It had been about the six wives of King Henry VIII, and all four young ladies began discussing which wife of the king’s they favored.
Trying to draw Miss Snow into the conversation, because she seemed to keep quiet during teatime, he asked, “And which wife is your particular favorite, Miss Snow?”
“It is hard to have a favorite in the midst of such tragedy, Your Grace. Catherine of Aragon, a loyal and faithful wife, was shoved to the side simply because she could not provide her husband with an heir. Anne Boleyn’s head was chopped off when false charges were trumped up against her and others close to her.
Jane Seymour died in childbirth. Anne of Cleves was put aside merely because of her looks.
Catherine Howard was young and immature, saddled with an old man who was most likely impotent.
The king had no business wedding such a young, vibrant woman. ”
She paused, looking pensive. “Perhaps I admire Catherine Parr the most because she did enough to survive, both her husband’s reign and the marriage.”
Val had never given much thought to the tragic stories of the six wives. “I am glad you are teaching a different view of history to my cousins. While it is important to learn of England’s glory and heritage, I suppose it is the people that create that history who should also be studied.”
“That is exactly what I try to do, Your Grace. Most heroes in history are but average men. They are just as terrified as anyone else, but they step up in a critical moment and answer a call to greatness. I like for Lady Verina and Lady Justina to delve a little deeper, seeing history from the eyes of those who lived through it, and not simply reel off facts.”
Her unique point of view was just another reason that he appreciated Miss Snow so much.
He could not think of a single tutor throughout his education who had not focused on large events.
In fact, they pretended that every heroic leader in England was a great man in every way.
While King Henry VIII may have done things which propelled his country to greatness, the man himself had been terribly flawed.
Tea concluded, and Val went to the library for a bit of quiet time before he joined Miss Snow in the gardens.
It had become their habit the past few days to spend time there before they went to their own dinners.
He enjoyed their conversations as they strolled through the peaceful gardens.
He was beginning to peel a few of her layers away and see more of the woman she was.
In turn, he hoped he was giving an unvarnished view of himself, as well.
When he arrived, he entered the gardens, knowing that she would be just beyond the first turn of the path. He found her sitting on a bench and joined her.
“I should have liked to have had a governess such as you,” he told her. “One who looks beyond the surface.”
“Merely because I taught my charges about one king’s wives does not necessarily make me wise or accomplished, Your Grace.”
“No, but you are letting them see the humanity of others in history. Yes, Henry is known for beginning the Protestant Church of England, but at what cost? Every life is important, from that of a queen to the lowliest servant.”
She pursed her lips in thought and then said, “I do not know of many dukes who would express such an opinion, Your Grace.”
He took her fingers and squeezed them gently. “But then again, we have established I am not like most dukes, Miss Snow. And this particular duke is tired of hearing you address him as thus.”
She tried to pull her fingers from his, but he held fast, their gazes meeting.
“And how should I address you?”
“When we are alone, as we are now, I would prefer to be Val to you.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “I... I do not think I can do so.”
He smiled. “I do not think I can do so, Val ,” he emphasized.
She burst out laughing, and he loved the musical sound of it.
“My mother would be appalled, me addressing a duke in such an intimate fashion.”
“Your mother is not here. I am. And I am asking—as your friend—if you would do so.”
She was silent a few moments and then grinned at him. “Then I suppose you should call me Eden, Val.”
Eden . . .
“My parents named me after the Garden of Eden. Mama told me that it was a place in which Adam and Eve had been happy. She likened it to her and Papa’s happiness at Brownstone.
” Pausing, she added wistfully, “But Adam and Eve experienced The Fall and were banished from the Garden of Eden. I suppose I was also destined to be exiled from Brownstone.”
He tightened his fingers about hers. “I am sorry your cousin treated you in such an abominable manner, Eden. I am more than happy to punch him in the nose the next time I see Lord Brownley.”
His words caused her to laugh again, and Val wanted to always make her laugh.
Not wanting to make her feel as if he had overstepped, he released her fingers and slapped his thighs with his palms.
Rising, he offered his hand to her, saying, “Let us stroll. I have something very interesting to share with you about Mama.”