“I do not know how I will ever be able to return the favor…”
They clinked glasses, and Christopher sighed happily as the smooth liquid slid down his throat.
It was not as though he needed the drink to talk frankly. That had never been a problem for him.And especially with Frances, he felt that conversation flowed easily anyway.
But there were some things he was not accustomed to speaking about. His family was one of them.
“I await in anticipation for what you are about to reveal to me.” Frances’s tone was lightly sarcastic. He must have been rubbing off on her already.
“My brother and I grew up in different homes. Our parents separated when we were young, and my mother took Peter while I stayed with my father. We were never close because of that distance.”
The words tumbled out of his mouth in one go, and he took a sip from his glass, giving her a moment to absorb what he had just told her.
“Oh,I did not know…”
“Hardly a crime.” The corners of his mouth curled into a smile, though he did not find anything funny. “How would you have known?”
“I have to say that I have never been too privy to the private lives of people. So if this news is openly being circulated around the ton, then I surely did not know it.”
“I am sure your mother was well aware of it.”
She shrugged her shoulders absent-mindedly. “That is very likely true. But my mother and I rarely shared gossip at home. I mostly kept to myself, and felt closer to my sisters rather than my mother.”
“I suppose that is something we differ in,” he noted, before taking a sip out of his glass.
“Do you feel as though you lost out on something?” Her words were soft. “By not knowing much about your brother?”
Christopher gave her a smile, but it did not do much to hide the sadness that suddenly eclipsed his features.
“I would not say I felt like I lost out on anything, but there was always a desire on my part to have my brother by my side as I grew up.”
Only after uttering the words did Christopher realize that this was the first time he had articulated such feelings out loud.
Frances noticed the sadness in his eyes despite the smile on his face. “That must have been difficult,” she said softly.
Christopher’s fingers tightened around the stem of his glass. “I always felt guilty for not being there for him more. When I found out about his death, it was like a part of me died with him.”
Frances reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing against his in a comforting gesture. The contact made them both freeze. She felt a surge of emotion she hadn’t expected, and Christopher’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected touch.
Embarrassed by her impulsive action, Frances quickly withdrew her hand and stood up. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks flush with heat. “I didn’t mean to?—”
Christopher gently caught her hand, preventing her from fleeing. “Frances, it’s alright,” he said softly, his gaze holding hers. “You don’t have to apologize.”
But it seemed that the moment had already become too intense for Frances.
She gently pulled her hand free and took a step back. “I should go,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Christopher.”
He watched her go, unable to take his eyes off her. He hadn’t meant to make her uncomfortable. Not in the slightest.If anything, he felt more comfortable with her than with anyone else.
It was a strange realization.
How was it that a woman he barely knew could evoke such a sense of peace and belonging in him? For most of his life, Christopher had kept his emotions tightly guarded, his interactions measured and controlled. Yet, with her, those walls seemed to crumble effortlessly.
He sank into the armchair, his thoughts consumed with Frances. His wife.
The title felt so strange still. But somehow, it also felt right.
What did he really feel for her?
