The beast opened one eye from his comfortable position curled before the fire, too sated to bother hissing in response to his name.
“Do you miss him?” Theo asked Virginia.
“I miss everything I love and no longer have.” Her wistful gaze lowered to the cat at their feet. “Does he bring you comfort?”
Theo was fairly certain “comfort” was not the right term. “Did you lose someone you loved?”
“All of them,” she said matter-of-factly. “And then I found new things to love.”
“Like Duke?”
This time, the cat didn’t even open an eye.
“I love all of Christmas,” she said simply. “My friends, the nature that surrounds us, the castle.”
He shook his head. “You can’t love an inanimate object.”
“I can.” She lifted her chin. “I love the sharp scent of pine beneath the winter chill. I love the crunch of snow beneath my boots. I love the squeak in your front door.”
“It’s not mine,” he murmured. “Take it up with Azureford.”
“I love the library—”
“Books… come from trees that used to be animate, I suppose,” he said with a straight face. “I’ll allow it.”
“I love that you arch your left eyebrow when I’m meant to take you seriously, and your right when I am not.” Her lips curved. “And I love that I figured that out on my own.”
Theo became uncomfortably aware of his eyebrows.
“I never jest,” he told her solemnly.
“Then why does your right brow arch whenever you mention everyone else’s expectations?”
“Everyone who?” he asked. “I don’t care about anyone’s opinion.”
Except Virginia’s. He realized he very much cared and did not wish for her to find him lacking.
She lifted a shoulder. “Lady Beatrice, your father…”
He scowled at her. “I thought you were rubbish at ferreting out people’s feelings.”
“I’ve been practicing with you for weeks.” Her cheeks turned pink. “And I wasn’t one hundred percent certain until you confirmed my suspicions just now.”
“There are people who have known me for nine-and-twenty years who have not figured out as much as you have done in less than a month.”
“Perhaps I try harder,” she said softly.
He was not entirely certain he liked the idea that she could see deeper inside him than anyone had ever glimpsed before.
“Do you want to marry Lady Beatrice?” Virginia asked.
“No,” he admitted. “But I will.”
“Does she want to marry you?”
“No,” he said. “She wants to marry a war hero. What she’ll get is me.” His shoulders tensed. “Our fathers agreed on this arrangement the day she was born. If I refuse, my father will disown me.”
A darkness flickered in her eyes. “He can’t disown a son. Sons are more important than daughters.”
