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V iolet needed to get away from him. He was having too much of an effect on her.

“Leaving already?” Leopold called out when he noticed her sneaking away back inside the manor. “Afraid you’ll lose if you stay?”

Violet straightened, her hand tightening around her mallet as she tried to maintain her composure. “Not at all. I just think the three of you should take this opportunity to play without distractions. Consider it a gift.”

Leopold snorted, clearly unconvinced, while Jasper raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Nicholas, however, simply watched her. She could feel the weight of his gaze even as she refused to meet it.

“And where are you off to, then?” Leopold pressed, grinning.

“I thought I’d check on Mother,” Violet said, lifting her chin. “It has been so long since the two of us had a proper conversation.”

“All I hear is that there’s an opportunity to take your place and beat His Grace in the game,” Leopold replied, jokingly.

She smiled faintly. “Enjoy your game, then. Try not to let His Grace trounce you too thoroughly.”

Violet handed off her mallet to one of the servants before walking briskly back toward the Manor. She kept her pace steady, but her thoughts were all over the place.

Every moment she had spent in the garden had felt heightened—every glance from Nicholas. It was as though he had taken up residence in her mind.

I just need a moment to breathe, she told herself as she finally entered the house.

Violet eventually found her mother in the sitting room, arranging fresh flowers in a vase. Arabella looked up as Violet entered.

“There you are, darling,” she said. “I thought you’d still be outside with your brothers.”

“I needed a break,” Violet admitted, sinking into one of the chairs. “They’re… rather competitive.”

Arabella chuckled softly. “And what of the Duke? How is he getting on with them?”

Violet hesitated, the question catching her off guard. “He’s… holding his own,” she said finally, her tone neutral. “Leopold seems to enjoy teasing him, but Nicholas doesn’t seem to mind.”

Arabella’s smile widened. “It’s important that he gets along with them.”

“Yes,” Violet murmured, glancing down at her hands. “He seems to have a knack for getting along with just about anyone.”

There was a small silence between them, and then she decided to question her mother on a topic that had been swirling inside her mind for a while now.

“Mother,” she began slowly, her voice quieter now, “what do you think… makes a successful marriage?”

“Well, it is really simpler than you’d imagine. Trust, understanding, respect,” she said after a moment. “Those are the foundations of any strong partnership.”

Violet fidgeted with the folds of her skirt. “I’ve just been thinking… about expectations. What people expect from a marriage.”

Arabella tilted her head, studying her daughter. “Expectations can vary, my dear. What are you trying to say?”

Violet hesitated, her cheeks warming. “It’s just… I wonder how one knows if they’re meeting those expectations.”

Arabella’s eyes softened, but there was a flicker of discomfort there as well.

“Are you speaking about… your duties as a wife?”

Violet’s blush deepened, and she looked away. “Perhaps.”

There was a long pause, and Violet could feel her mother’s hesitation. Arabella sat down beside her, reaching out to take her hand.

“Darling,” she said gently, “these things… they’re not easy to discuss. But I can tell you this—these matters come with time. You’ll find your way.”

Violet glanced at her, her confusion growing. “But how will I know if I’m doing it right?”

Arabella smiled faintly, patting her hand. “You’ll know,” she said vaguely. “It’s something that happens naturally.”

Violet frowned, her mind spinning with more questions than before. “I see,” she said finally, though she didn’t see at all.

Arabella seemed relieved to let the matter drop, returning her attention to the flowers.

Violet, however, sat in silence, her thoughts a tangled mess. Her mother’s words had only deepened her confusion, and the thought of returning to Nicholas—of facing him again, knowing so little—left her feeling more flustered than ever.

Violet was making her way through the long hallway, still distracted by her rather confusing conversation with her mother, when she heard the sound of familiar footsteps.

She turned just in time to see Leopold coming in from the garden, his mallet balanced casually over his shoulder. He spotted her almost immediately and grinned.

“Well, well,” Leopold said, stopping in his tracks. “Look who it is.”

“What are you doing back inside?” Violet asked, immediately. “Has the game ended already? You are meant to be outside with the Duke.”

“How endearing that you seem so concerned about your duke.” He grinned in amusement. “But I should tell you to have some faith in me as well. It’s not as if I have abandoned him. Jasper’s taken over entertaining His Grace. They seem to be getting along rather well, so you can stop fretting.”

“I wasn’t fretting,” Violet insisted, crossing her arms.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” Violet glared. “I was only asking for information. Besides, why would I fret? Nicholas can handle himself perfectly well.”

Leopold raised an eyebrow. “Nicholas? My, sister. Not even a month to your marriage, and you’re on a first-name basis already.”

Violet knew better than to let her brother get to her—this was what he did. He thrived on making people feel awkward, and he was trying to do the same with her. “Yes, we are.”

“Isn’t that just so special? You must mean a lot to each other,” he continued his teasing. “I must say, you’ve made quite the impression on him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Leopold said, his tone mock serious. “In fact, I think he might even be a little smitten. He didn’t seem particularly inclined to play Pall Mall at first, but the moment you joined in? Well, suddenly, the entire situation flipped.”

“Leopold, I swear, if you don’t stop?—”

“But it makes sense, really,” Leopold continued, undeterred. “As quiet as you are, you are not without charms of your own. It does not surprise me that you managed to compel the Duke in this manner so early on.”

Leopold’s suggestions made her heart flutter. He was wrong of course. There was not even a shred of romance between the two of them. But a small part of her wondered if he saw something that she didn’t.

The thought sent an emanating warmth through her at first, but it quickly transformed into shrill panic.

No.

“Enough,” Violet said, spinning back to face him. “You’re being absurd. It’s not like that. It’s a marriage of convenience, and that’s all it has ever been.”

“Yes, and how convenient that the two of you are falling in love.”

“You do not know what you’re talking about,” Violet scoffed. “I am not sure how you managed to conclude that over a game of Pall Mall.”

“It wasn’t just that, obviously. It was also the manner with which he spoke about you at the table. Are you trying to tell me there was nothing to it? I suspect the man is trying to win over your affections.”

“You are wrong,” Violet said sharply, brushing past him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it is nearly time for us to leave.”

“Yes, yes. Hurry back to the Duke.”

Leopold’s laughter followed her down the hall, and Violet’s steps quickened, her heart pounding.

His teasing was ridiculous of course—just his usual way of poking fun at her. But as she made her way toward her room, her thoughts betrayed her once again.

Is there something more to Nicholas’ attentiveness?

No, there couldn’t be. He was just putting on appearances for the sake of her family. She was sure of it.

She pushed the thought away, determined not to let Leopold’s words get the better of her. It was a marriage of convenience—nothing more, nothing less.

When they finally departed for Bernight, Violet was still absorbed in her thoughts for most of the carriage ride.

“You have been awfully quiet this entire time, Violet,” Nicholas broke the silence. “Something on your mind?”

Violet snapped out of her thoughts, looking back at him in horror. Yes, you. “Not at all, Nicholas. I am merely tired from the activities of the day.”

If he was disappointed with her answer, he certainly did not let it show. Instead, he nodded at her solemnly. “I see. You did exert quite a bit of effort with that mallet. I was surprised you even knew how to play.”

“You must underestimate me, then. A woman can be just as good at the sport as a man,” Violet said, bristling at his comment.

“Oh, no . That’s not what I was doubtful of. You proved that much. Just that…” He paused for a moment, a look of curiosity forming in his eyes. “… I suppose I did not expect a wallflower like yourself to be interested in a sport. You said yourself that your main interest lies in books.”

Violet felt herself growing more irked by the moment. In a way, it was good that they were having this conversation. Her previous delusions about him being attentive and it making her heart flutter were swiftly dissolving. He was still insufferable.

And that was good because it was familiar territory.

“Nicholas , ” she started, “here I am, perfectly capable of both enjoying literature and wielding a mallet. Are you suggesting that one cannot do both?”

“Not at all,” Nicholas replied. “Merely that it’s an unexpected combination.”

“Perhaps that’s because you’ve only bothered to notice one side of me,” Violet said sharply, surprising herself with the boldness of her words.

“Oh? And what side might that be?”

“The one you’ve already decided upon,” Violet said, folding her hands primly in her lap. “The quiet, reserved, wallflower side.”

Even in the dim surroundings of the carriage, Violet could see a sudden curiosity flare up in his eyes. “And you are certain that this is the side of you that I have decided upon?”

Violet shot him a look.

“It would be better if you answered that question yourself.”

The air between them suddenly became tense, and he leaned forward towards her. His gaze was firmly on her now. She tilted her chin upward, determined not to show how much his proximity affected her.

“You have a point there, Duchess. Perhaps I misspoke.”

Was Violet hearing his correctly? Nicholas was admitting that he had misspoke?

“You… misspoke?” came Violet’s rather startled reply.

“You seem surprised.”

It is because I am. “It’s just rare for you to admit to such a thing is all,” she said instead. “Pray tell. What did you mean to say instead?”

Nicholas took his time to answer, his lips curving into a smile. “It would be surprising for a wallflower to have interest—and skill—in a sport as you did. But since it is you, I should not have been so quick to judge.”

Oh? Violet was unsure if she was meant to take his words as a compliment or not.

“After all,” he continued, “I’ve had weeks to observe you. You rarely behave in a manner that I expect.”

Once again, Violet found herself wondering if this was a good or not. Why can he not state things clearly?

“ Then, perhaps you need to pay me more attention,” she said instead, “for you to accurately predict my behaviour.”

“Oh, I’ve been paying attention,” he said, his voice lowering slightly. “More than you might think.”

Her heart caught in her throat again. More than I think? Was there some truth to what Leopold was saying before?

She did not speak a word after that, only kept her head turned towards the window. He must have thought that she was not interested in speaking further, but in reality, she just did not want him to see just how much she was blushing for him.