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T he deep voice startled her so thoroughly that Violet let out a small gasp. Behind her stood Nicholas with a bemused expression on his face. She must not have noticed him walk in.

With impressive speed, she hid the book behind her. “Oh, I did not… I was just…” Her face burned as she struggled to force a coherent sentence.

Nicholas blinked, now leaning casually against a nearby shelf, his arms crossed and a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

“You were…?” he prompted. “By all means, continue. You seemed rather absorbed.”

“I wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t realize—” Violet stammered, “I did not see you there, that is all. You caught me by surprise.”

“Oh, did I?” Nicholas raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You seemed to be rather… engrossed in the literature. If you don’t mind sharing, I would love to know what it was that you were reading.”

Does he know? Her blush threatened to grow deeper, and her grip tightened on the book she had hidden behind her.

“Oh, I was merely browsing through, that is all. Nothing specific caught my eye,” she said. “I was curious to see what is housed here in this rather large collection.”

“Curiosity can be dangerous,” Nicholas remarked.

“Well, I assure you, Your Grace , my curiosity is quite under control,” she said primly though her voice trembled at the edges.

Nicholas’ lips quirked upward, the faintest hint of mischief in his expression. “Is that the case?” His eyes flicked pointedly to the book she clutched with white-knuckled determination. “Then why, Duchess, are you guarding that book as though it is your personal diary?”

“It does not concern you,” Violet retorted, stepping back instinctively. But Nicholas began to close the distance between them.

“Oh, but it does concern me,” he countered. “It is my library after all. Therefore, it is only natural for me to want to know what has caught the Duchess’ eye.”

“Must you call me that?” Violet mumbled, backing up another step. She was desperate to change the subject. Knowing the Duke, it would be difficult to talk herself out of this situation. “Besides, I should remind you that it is our library now.”

“Staking claims already?” he smirked and then took another step forward.

“You might put it like that.”

“Well, even so, my inquiry still stands, Violet, ” The use of her name—so casually spoken and yet still so intimate —made her pulse flutter against her will. “Do you prefer that I call you that instead of Duchess?”

“There is nothing to inquire.” Violet looked away, feeling the intensity of his gaze on her. The grip on her book tightened yet again, and she was certain her knuckles must have turned white by now. “Now if you’d please excuse me…”

“You’re being evasive,” Nicholas replied easily. He tilted his head, his dark gaze flicking from her flushed face to the book and then back again. “I can see that you are hiding something behind you. May I see it?”

His nearness now was unmistakable, his tall frame casting a shadow over her.

Her breath caught as her back met the bookshelf with nowhere left to go.

The Duke was far too close to her now. The realization sent a ripple of panic and…

something else entirely through her. He braced one arm against the shelves beside her head, leaning in just enough so that she could feel his breath fan across her face.

“It is n-nothing,” she sputtered out, but all her defenses were crumbling.

“Then why is it that you look so guilty? Have you been up to no good?”

Violet’s back pressed against the wooden shelf, her breath catching at the sudden closeness between them.

His arm rested on the edge of the shelf, boxing her in effortlessly.

His other hand hung loosely at his side, but it felt like it could easily reach out and catch her wrist—or her chin—at any moment.

Her eyes darted nervously to his face. “I—I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered.

“Oh, I think you do,” he murmured. His voice was quieter now. “What kind of mischief have you been up to, Violet?”

Her throat went dry, and she found herself acutely aware of the way his body angled toward hers. His scent wrapped around her senses, making it impossible to focus.

“I haven’t been doing any mischief,” she managed to say.

Nicholas’ eyes flicked downward for a brief moment and then back at her face.

“Are you nervous, Violet?”

She swallowed hard, unable to summon a coherent response. “W-why would I be?”

“You tell me,” he hummed. “Though if I had to guess, I’d say you do not wish for me to be privy to your reading habits.”

It was at that moment that he seemed to also realize just how close they were to one another. A sudden silence hung over the both of them. Nicholas’ head dipped slightly, and she caught the faintest shift in his breathing,

And for one agonizingly long moment, neither of them moved.

Almost as if they were unable to. Frozen in each other’s company.

Then Nicholas stepped back abruptly, pulling away. He turned his head slightly, clearing his throat as if to compose himself.

“Apologies,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Violet exhaled shakily. The shock of the moment was so immense that the book slipped out of her grasp and fell to the floor with a loud thud—splayed out across the floor for all to see.

Nicholas’ eyes caught on the book then.

“Ah . So that explains why you were so keen on hiding it.”

Violet’s blush deepened if that were even possible. “It’s not—it was just?—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he interrupted, now bursting with amusement. “Or your rather… colourful reading preferences.”

“But they are not my reading preferences,” she defended herself. “I merely stumbled across it; I wasn’t reading it. It was in your library if you must know. I—I found it by accident.”

“I thought it was our library just a moment ago? Besides, I am not asking you for an explanation. I am sure it was just an innocent accident.”

Violet opened her mouth to argue, but he stepped back fully then, his eyes flicking briefly to the shelves around them. “You’ve done a good job with the house,” he remarked casually, as though their near-proximity a moment ago hadn’t happened at all. “The changes suit it. You suit it.”

Her heart tripped over itself at the unexpected compliment. “I—thank you,” she stammered, blinking at him.

Nicholas inclined his head, his expression unreadable once more. “Try not to lose yourself too deeply in that section of the library, Violet,” he added, turning toward the door. “It’s far more dangerous than you realize.”

Before Violet could muster a reply, he was gone, leaving her standing alone in the vast library, her cheeks still burning and her pulse unsteady.

She looked down at the scandalous book in her hands, groaning softly to herself. “Dangerous,” she muttered under her breath. “The only danger here is you, Nicholas.”

“So go on then. Tell us everything. Is there any truth to the vampire rumours?”

Daphne and Isadora had arrived earlier that morning, and the three ladies sat in the drawing room to catch each other up on their lives over tea. As expected, Isadora was immediately curious and had jumped straight to the topic of marriage.

Violet took a sip from her cup. “You waste no time do you?”

“You look radiant, Violet,” Daphne added. “Marriage agrees with you.”

“Oh, I agree with that.” Isadora chimed in, her brow arched playfully as she sipped her tea. “You’re practically glowing. I suspect it has something to do with a certain duke.”

Violet’s cheeks flared instantly, her teacup rattling slightly as she set it down. “I—that’s nonsense,” she stammered, avoiding their knowing gazes. “It’s just the fresh air here.”

“Oh, please,” Daphne said, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re not fooling anyone. What is there to hide amongst friends? How has married life been? Is the Duke treating you well?”

“He’s… very courteous,” she said carefully. “And very busy. I imagine it’s much the same as most marriages.”

“Courteous? That’s all you have to say? You sound as though you’re describing a distant relative, not your husband,” Isadora replied.

Daphne smirked, clearly enjoying Violet’s discomfort. “Surely there’s more to share than that. Does he make you laugh? Does he irritate you? Or—” she leaned closer, her voice lowering— “does he make you nervous?”

Violet’s blush deepened, and she busied herself with straightening the folds of her gown. He did. That was the truth. But he also ignited strange feelings in her that even she did not have a name for.

“He’s…different from what I expected,” she admitted finally.

Daphne and Isadora exchanged a glance.

“Oh, you will have to give us more than that,” Isadora prompted, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Is he terribly strict? Or terribly charming? Or both?”

“Both would be terribly inconvenient,” Daphne quipped, laughing softly.

“He’s neither,” Violet said quickly though she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. He was charming in his own way. “I suppose he is a bit, well, difficult to read, sometimes.”

Daphne laughed out loud at that. Her friends seemed to be extracting some sort of joy by watching her squirm like this. “Violet, you’re avoiding the question. We’re not asking you to analyze the man—we want to know how you feel about him.”

“I feel…” Violet trailed off, her words catching in her throat. She glanced between her friends, both of whom were watching her with open amusement. “It’s all just… very new. That’s all.”

Isadora let out a theatrical sigh, setting her cup down. “I don’t believe her,” she declared, turning to Daphne. “Do you?”

“Not for a second,” Daphne replied, shaking her head with a grin. “Violet Kingsman—you’re hiding something.”

“I am not!” Violet protested though her voice cracked slightly. “It’s just… well I suppose he is not as awful as the rumors make him out to be.”

“Oh, but that makes him even more intriguing,” Isadora said. “A man with many layers. But one thing is for certain, he seems to have captured your attention.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Violet said quickly, though blush that formed on her cheeks betrayed her. “I only meant that he’s not as distant as I first thought. He’s been very kind to me, and he seems… impressed by the changes I’ve made to the house.”

“And are you happy?” Daphne pressed, her tone serious all of a sudden.

“I am… happy,” Violet said, though the words felt more like a reassurance than a truth.

Daphne tilted her head slightly, her green eyes narrowing in curiosity. “But are you in love , Violet?”

Violet nearly choked on her tea. “In love?”

Love.

It felt like a concept from another world—something that happened in novels or to other people, far removed from the practical reality of her new life as a duchess. How could she even begin to answer that question when she barely understood her own feelings?

“I—” she began, fumbling for words. “That’s hardly the point, isn’t it? Besides, we’ve spent enough time dissecting my life. I wish to talk about something else. How is your sister’s debut coming along, Isadora?”

At the mention of her sister, Isadora’s demeanor shifted, a faint crease appearing on her brow. She sighed, leaning back in her chair.

“Oh, it’s been nothing short of a disaster,” she admitted.

Daphne’s expression softened immediately. “What’s happened?”

“Everything,” Isadora replied dramatically, “She’s shy—painfully shy—and no amount of coaching seems to help. She freezes up during introductions, and the last ball we attended… let’s just say it was not a success.”

Violet frowned. “That sounds difficult—for both of you.”

“It is,” Isadora said, her tone quieter now. “She’s so overwhelmed by it all.”

“I understand how she feels,” Violet said softly. “The Season can be… intimidating, to say the least.”

Daphne nodded. “Perhaps she just needs time. Some of us are late bloomers.”

“Let’s hope she blooms soon,” Isadora muttered.

Before Violet could respond, the doors to the drawing room opened, and a familiar figure stepped inside.

Nicholas.

His presence filled the room immediately. His gaze swept over the three women, lingering on Violet for just a moment longer than the others.

“Ladies,” he greeted, his deep voice smooth and unhurried. “I hope I’m not intruding.”