Page 20 of Duke of Pride (Sinful Dukes #4)

CHAPTER 20

Bedtime stories

I t has been days since Victoria left Colborne House in the middle of the night as if chased. Yet it didn’t feel like she was back home. Walden was not the home she grew up in, just something her brother inherited. But the past year with Dorothy in Colborne House…

She missed that place. It had nothing to do with the building, the gardens, or the lake. Walden was beautiful enough. But the love she had received in Colborne House, the acceptance…

Dorothy was more than a friend, and the fact that they had been through so much together made her feel closer to her than almost anyone else. Victoria was surely missing Euclid, his adorable face and his happiness.

Anyway, the fact that she missed Colborne House had certainly nothing to do with a tall, wide, insanely good-looking duke who had managed to break her heart. Her jaw tightened. She was biting down so hard, and as it happened so often these past few days, her jaw ached.

“Aunt Vicky! You didn’t hide!” Camilla screamed as she launched herself at her.

Her niece was quickly followed by Anthony, who skidded across the floor and tackled them on the rug. Victoria let out a hearty laugh that brought Penelope to the drawing room.

“Please, leave your aunt be.”

“No!” both children cried in unison. “We missed Auntie.”

Victoria hugged them and squeezed them tightly. She placed sweet kisses on their little heads and let their clean, fresh scents calm her nerves and soothe her heart.

“I missed you too, my sweetlings,” she said softly.

“Come on, children,” Penelope urged, herding the children to their nanny. “Go get ready for bed, and I will be right there to read you a little story.”

“We want Aunt Vicky!”

The twins managed to present a united front, and they demanded something.

Victoria smiled. “I will be right there. Get ready quickly.”

If it weren’t for Camilla and Anthony, she would have collapsed long ago. Even now, the moment they were out of the room, she wanted to break down and cry and scream into a pillow.

The moment the children’s excited footsteps faded down the hallway, Victoria’s smile slipped. She exhaled, long and slow, as if she had been holding her breath for days. She regretted it immediately.

Her friend and sister-in-law studied her, and Victoria winced, wanting to avoid the scrutiny.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Penelope said calmly.

“Seeing how we spent this morning talking about the million spices you tried in India, I am pretty sure we talk to each other.”

“How interesting,” Penelope murmured. “The definition of talking must have changed this past year. I thought it meant two people exchanging words. Not one talking and the other nodding absently while thinking about something else.”

“You may have underestimated my interest in the different kinds of curry out there,” Victoria tried to deflect.

Penelope gave her a pointed look, but then she softened it.

“I understand that something has happened and you don’t want to talk to me about it. It hurts that you don’t trust me enough, but like I said, I understand. I am not trying to force you to talk about something you are clearly not ready to discuss. I was merely trying to let you know that I see you and that I am here.”

Victoria’s fingers curled into the fabric of her skirt, the damask pattern blurring before her eyes. Penelope’s words, so gentle, so understanding, cut deeper than any accusation could have.

“I do trust you,” she whispered. “It’s just that it’s too many things all at once. I?—”

That was the moment when her brother came in. Maxwell took one look at the duo and knew that something was wrong.

“Ah, what a charming tableau,” he drawled. “My wife looks concerned, and my sister looks like she’s just swallowed a lemon. Do tell, what earth-shattering crisis has befallen the household now?”

Victoria’s fingers dug deeper. This was another reason she felt as if a heavy burden, as if an elephant, like the ones Penelope had described, was stepping onto her chest every waking moment.

If she thought that coming back to Walden one year later would change Maxwell’s attitude toward her, she was mistaken. With Penelope and his children, he was a changed man—responsible, mature, and dedicated. Caring and considerate.

When it came to her, they both turned into immature youths, fighting over everything and nothing. Only the problems they had were real adult problems that they needed to address seriously.

“Such solemnity. It must be dire, indeed. A misplaced hair ribbon? Or—heaven forbid—did Cook run out of those little cakes you’re so fond of?”

Penelope shot him a warning look. “Maxwell.”

Victoria had had enough. She lifted her chin, meeting her brother’s mocking gaze head-on. “Even worse, dear brother. My greatest tragedy is that I’ve been forced to endure your sparkling conversation. How shall I recover?”

Maxwell opened his mouth to say something that would for sure ignite a new burst of frustration.

Deep down, Victoria was partly happy this was happening. Maxwell was her brother, and he loved her unconditionally. She could fight out her frustrations with him, be petty and loud, and somehow they would find a way to mend things.

“Miss Victoria, the twins are asking for you,” the butler announced.

“Saved by your kids,” she hissed at Maxwell and left the room.

* * *

It was much later when she went back down to the drawing room. She had fallen asleep in Camilla’s bed while reading a story.

She hadn’t slept well for days, and the sweet embrace of her niece and her nephew’s soft breathing was enough to lull her into sleep. So she asked for something quick to be brought to the drawing room because she missed dinner.

She was surprised to find Maxwell there, a ledger balanced on his knee. He looked up at her and smirked.

Victoria shot him a cold look that said, I am not in the mood, proceed with caution, and he retreated. For now.

“Are they asleep?” he asked.

“Yes, and they managed to put me to bed too,” she joked half-heartedly.

“It’s not like you have been sleeping these past few days.”

Victoria shifted her gaze to him. He seemed genuinely worried. And that was somehow worse.

Sibling rivalry and banter, she could handle all day long. But Maxwell demanding to know why she had not been sleeping? That was a completely different story.

“It must have been hard coming back here,” he said, setting the ledger aside. “I know you did it for Penelope and the twins, but?—”

“Not only for them,” Victoria interjected sincerely.

Her brother seemed genuinely surprised. He really thought that she didn’t want to see him, and that was why she was this lost. Her heart broke for him.

“Vicky.”

“Max.”

Both spoke in unison. And chuckled.

Victoria moved to the sofa and sat beside him. They twined their pinkies, counted to three, and pulled. It was their little ritual ever since they were kids, each time they talked at the same time. Warmth filled Victoria’s heart for the first time after she walked out of that thicket.

“Max, I appreciate everything you have done for me,” she said and took his hand. “What happened to us was not fair nor easy. And it was less of both for you. You shouldered a guilt and a duty too heavy for your age while?—”

“You know that I gladly took care of you, Vicky. You are my sister.”

“I know, Max. But you took on so much. And between our father not being one and you agonizing over our future, you were not my brother anymore. Not the boy I would pull pranks on, the one who loved fishing. You grew up so fast, so hard.”

Maxwell looks down at their joined hands. Every word she spoke was true, and no one argued.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across Maxwell’s face as he turned their joined hands over, studying them as if they held some unspoken truth.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he murmured, his voice rough.

“I know.” Victoria squeezed his fingers. “I was there too.”

“You’re right. I stopped being your brother somewhere along the way. Became something else entirely.” His thumb brushed over her knuckles—a rare, unguarded gesture. “A tyrant, I suppose.”

“A protector. Just… an overzealous one.”

“Is that your polite way of calling me an insufferable arse?”

“Would you rather I say it outright?”

They laughed, but it faded quickly.

“You were so young, Vicky. You were spared the worst of it, in a way. It was late for me—I was scarred for life. But I’d be damned if I let you suffer. I only ever wanted you to be safe. All I ever did was make sure that you were happy.”

“I know, Max. And I thank you so much for everything. No matter what, I always feel safe as long as you are in my life.”

His eyes flicked up to hers. His throat worked hard, and he exhaled, as if he had been waiting for her to say those words. He squeezed her hand affectionately.

“But circling back to the insufferable arse,” Victoria joked, holding back her tears.

Another laugh.

Her body relaxed, some weight lifting off her chest.

“Happiness isn’t something you can arrange for someone else, Max,” she said with an even voice. “You never asked what would make me happy. You just assumed.”

Max nodded guiltily.

“You say you were scarred by our upbringing. It turned you into that ruthless, cutthroat businessman everyone feared. But I was scarred, too. I was young, yes, but I still remember our mother.”

She didn’t have to say anything more—they both knew what she meant by that. A flash of painful memories came to them.

“Seeing her like that… I do not want that for myself,” Victoria confessed. “I do not wish to marry, Max.”

Maxwell opened his mouth—once, twice—before any sound came out. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw.

“Christ, Vicky. I never stopped to listen, did I?”

Victoria shook her head.

“Let’s change that. What would make you happy?”

“Truly?”

“I have been working myself to the bone all my life. All for you. I never thought I would have Penelope or the twins. What was all that if it weren’t for you to live your best life, Sister?”

“You know the thing I love most.”

“Apple pies.”

“Aaaand?”

“Maths.”

Victoria nodded. “You know I studied on my own, read books, and tracked down any place I could get any knowledge. I want to learn more, and I reached the limit of what I can do on my own.”

“So… you want to go to school.”

“Yes.”

Maxwell considered for a while, his hand slipping from hers.

“That is not possible.”

Victoria’s heart ached. She knew that what she was asking was out of the question. Unspeakable. She had little hope that her dream would ever become a reality. She will seek knowledge on her own and?—

“At least not in Britain.”

Victoria searched her brother’s face. He wore a very serious look, but a boyish, mischievous smile tugged at his lips.

“The talk is that Prussia has an educational system more open to women. You’ll pick up the language easily. After all, Maths is an international?—”

Maxwell didn’t get to finish his sentence, for Victoria threw her arms around his neck.

“I am guessing you are interested, then.” He chuckled.

“Is this for real?”

Maxwell pinched her cheek tenderly.

Finally, Victoria felt as if her brother saw her— truly saw her. He listened. And it seemed he had been listening for a while, since he had already looked up the educational system in Prussia.

“If this is what you want. You are no longer my little sister, and I know that if it weren’t for the restrictions placed by our society, you would be pursuing your dreams already. All I am doing is my duty as your brother—your overzealous protector, the insufferable arse.”

Victoria felt the tears roll down her cheeks. Finally, some happy tears.

Maxwell wiped her tears and smiled at her. “Christ, you are still an ugly crybaby.”

Victoria laughed, sniffling, and hit his arm playfully. He laughed too, but then he sobered up.

“We are going to miss you, Vicky.”

She pressed her lips together to keep from breaking down for real. “I will visit often.”

“You’d better. The twins need their aunt.”

One more embrace, tighter this time, a real one, his strong arms engulfing her protectively.

“Thank you, Max! Thank you so much.”

They were still locked in that embrace when Penelope came closer. She must have heard the whole thing because her eyes were glistening with tears.

“We will miss you so much, Victoria,” she said. “How about we throw a ball—one last big gathering—before you go?”

“Here in Walden?”

“Yes. No one has to know what the ball is for, but you will have the chance to see the people who matter most to you one last time,” Penelope offered with a wide smile.

One single inevitable thought crossed Victoria’s mind: Stephen. Leaving the country was a bit extreme, but it might be exactly what she needed. Not seeing him in balls and social gatherings, visiting Annabelle. She would be gone, out of reach. Perhaps in a foreign country, studying and making her dream come true, she would finally forget the infuriating Duke who stole her heart one room at a time.

The mere thought of Stephen sent a sharp pang through her chest, as if her heart had been stabbed with a hot poker. She could still feel the ghost of his hands on her waist, the way his deep voice had whispered her name in the dark.

The memory was so that vivid it stole her breath.

Victoria realized that even Prussia was not far enough to run away from him.