Page 34 of The Duke’s Second Bride (Regency Second Chances #4)

“ W ell, well, well,” Vincent said, looking across the garden. “It certainly seems that ball the other night did your marriage some good, didn’t it?”

Christian followed his gaze to where Ava, Sophia, and the dowager duchess stood together on the lawn.

The ladies were deep in conversation, Sophia animated as ever, Ava smiling with a warmth that seemed to radiate outward, and the Dowager Duchess of Richmond listening with the sort of serene dignity that commanded attention without her having to speak a word.

On the grass, Luke played with James and Lucy.

James, at ten, was near Luke’s age, and within moments of meeting, they had dashed off, inventing a game whose rules seemed utterly mysterious to anyone but themselves.

Lucy, at six, trotted gamely after them, laughing at every missed swing of her mallet, more delighted by inclusion than by any score.

“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you mean,” Christian said. It was a poor lie, and he knew it.

Vincent smacked his arm. “Come, now! You can’t fool me, old chap. You’ve completely lost your… You know.”

Christian turned with one brow raised. “Completely lost my what?”

“You know.” Vincent waved vaguely in Christian’s direction. “Your air of gloom, shall we call it? Or do you prefer ever-present storm cloud over your head?”

Christian rolled his eyes, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “You are ridiculous,” he said.

“Yes, yes, Sophia reminds me of that fact daily. But I am also right. And thank goodness for it. I thought I would lose my head, watching you and Ava tiptoe around each other for no good reason.”

“I was merely trying to be respectful,” Christian muttered.

“Respectful!” Vincent scoffed. “The woman could not take her eyes off you any more than you could take yours off her. It was excruciating.”

Christian shook his head but could not deny the truth of it.

“And look there,” Vincent continued, nodding toward the children. “Luke seems better, too.”

Christian’s gaze softened. Luke had been quiet at first, hesitant even, but now he was speaking freely, his words tumbling quickly as he and James concocted whatever rules their game required. The boy’s stammer hardly surfaced at all; his laughter came easily, openly.

“Yes,” Christian said. “He is doing much better. Ava has brought something out of him.”

“It isn’t just Ava,” Vincent said firmly.

“There’s a change in him with you as well.

He seems more at ease, more sure of himself.

Not that he didn’t always love you, but it’s different now.

He trusts you in a way children only do when they feel completely safe.

” He clapped Christian on the shoulder. “You’re doing magnificently, old chap. ”

A voice cut neatly through their conversation. “Magnificently, indeed. It’s remarkable, my dear boy; you’ve gone an entire afternoon without scowling. I’m impressed.”

Both men turned to see the Dowager Duchess approaching.

“Aunt,” Christian said, inclining his head. “You flatter me.”

“I do not flatter,” she corrected crisply. “I speak truth when I see it. And I see you are much changed, Christian.” She studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “Your shoulders sit differently. There is less weight pressing them down.”

Vincent chuckled. “He’ll deny it, but he’s as besotted as any man I’ve ever seen.”

The dowager’s gaze slid to where Ava stood, laughing softly at something Sophia had said. A shadow passed over the older woman’s features, there and gone in an instant, but Christian caught it all the same.

“She is good for you,” she said quietly. Then, almost under her breath, “At last, a light in this house after so much darkness.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a heartbeat, silence reigned. They all knew the darkness she referred to. Jasper’s betrayal, Nicholas’s murder…it had left scars not easily spoken of.

Christian’s throat tightened. “We go forward, Aunt,” he said gently.

The dowager’s eyes met his, clear and steady, though there was a sorrow in them that would never quite lift.

“Yes. Forward.” She straightened, squaring her shoulders as though shaking off the weight. “And I, for one, am grateful to live long enough to see it.”

Across the lawn, Luke’s triumphant shout rang out as he swung the mallet and sent the ball skittering farther than James’s. Ava clapped for him, her smile brilliant.

Christian felt something in his chest expand, something fragile but steady, as though the very air around him had grown lighter.

Christian had never in his life known that he could feel such bliss.

Every day now, he woke up with a smile on his face and with Ava wrapped soundly in his arms, sleepy and sated from the activities of the night before.

And his newfound joy did not just extend to the bedroom. While it was a hardship every morning to leave behind their warm bed and Ava’s even warmer embrace to go about their daily business, there was still a lightness in his heart that felt new.

Sitting at his desk, his work no longer seemed like such a burden, aside from the fact that it kept him from spending as much time pleasuring Ava as he would have liked.

The townhouse, which, though beautiful, had once struck him as overlarge, now seemed like heaven.

The rest of the household seemed to benefit from the newly improved relations between the duke and duchess. The servants were in a bright mood. Luke was delighted to spend more time with his father and stepmother together.

“Th-this one cannot go there,” he said firmly, as they were out in the courtyard, working on the small replica garden of the one he and Ava had planted back at the country house.”

Christian laughed. “This is London, my boy,” he said. “You can hardly expect there to be as much sunlight here as there was in the country.”

“Still, we must do our b-best,” Luke insisted. “It is in the book you got us, from the village.”

Luke’s stammer seemed to have nearly vanished within the past few days. Christian realized, with great pride and joy, that his son seemed to be growing as comfortable speaking in front of him as he was speaking in front of Ava.

“You heard him,” Ava said teasingly.

Christian could not help but look at her with longing.

Her face had a healthy flush from the exertion of digging. She had a light smudge of dirt on one cheek, from where she had wiped sweat off her face with the back of one wrist earlier in the afternoon.

Luke must have noticed the latter at the same time, because he pointed at it with a giggle.

“Ava, you have dirt on your face,” he said, laughing.

Before Christian could think to stop himself, he reached out to brush it away. Ava looked surprised but soon leaned into the touch.

“Thank you,” she said shyly.

“Of course, my dear,” Christian said.

Luke looked back and forth between them, his jaw agape, an expression that was soon replaced by a delighted smile.

He laughed, clapping his hands together. “You have never c-called her my dear before!” he crowed.

Ava blushed with an intensity that Christian was sure matched his own.

Just at that moment, a small ball of orange fur came slinking into the garden.

“Oh, who let him out!” Ava said. “Careful, I don’t want him eating any of the plants.”

“Come here, Pudding,” Christian said, ready to catch the cat and carry it back inside.

Pudding neatly dodged out of Christian’s reach, instead leaping past him and upsetting a pot of dirt onto his lap, entirely ruining his pants.

Instead of any annoyance, Christian burst out laughing.

“Naughty Pudding!” Luke said, matching his father’s chuckling. Ava immediately joined in.

After a few moments, the three of them were all laughing so hard that they could do nothing but watch Pudding slink away, returning into the house as though he had come outside for the sole purpose of upsetting that one pot of soil.

“Well,” Christian said, changing his tone to one of pretend offense. “Let’s see how funny you think it is now!”

He reached out and smudged dirt lightly onto Luke’s forehead with his thumb.

The boy was delighted, immediately breaking out into even more intense giggles. Then he reached out and smeared dirt across his father’s rolled-up sleeve.

Before long, the three of them were having a full-on soil fight. By the end of the afternoon, more of the dirt had ended up on them than in the garden. But they had just enough left over to cover the seedlings they had intended to plant.

Before dinner, Luke’s maid took him to bathe. Ava began walking to her chambers when Christian took hold of her hand. She turned to face him. Even with dirt across her face, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

“What?” she asked. “I am merely going to bathe.” She looked him up and down and giggled. “I would strongly recommend you do the same, dear husband.”

“I perfectly intend to, dear wife,” he countered, then pulled her in close by the waist. “But I believe you are going to need some help getting fully clean. After all, you don’t want to miss any spots while you are bathing yourself, do you?”

Ava finally caught his meaning, a slow, sweet smile spreading across her muddy face.

“Yes,” she cooed, her hands running up his arms. “Yes, I do believe you are right.”

He picked her up in a bridal carry and carried her to the bath.

By the time he was done with her, he swore, their hands would both have begun to prune from the water.