Page 2

“And what’s so wrong about that?” Violet asked. “I think it is a good thing that we had our expectations set high from the beginning.”

Isadora gave her a look. “But high expectations only mean more disappointment.”

“They could mean that,” Daphne interjected. “But that does not mean that they must. ”

Daphne always made sure to interpret things positively, and it was something that Violet absolutely loved about her. It was rare to find someone who could focus on what could go right instead of the opposite.

“I think I want to be on Daphne’s side here.” Violet nodded. “She certainly was able to find her Prince Charming. Why is it that the two of us shouldn’t be able to?”

Isadora shrugged, “I suppose the first step, in your case Violet, would be to talk to some gentlemen.”

Violet resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She found her brothers’ words being echoed in her friends well-meaning advice.

“Why does everyone keep suggesting that to me?” she pouted, crossing her arms out in front of her chest. If anything, their insistence made her want the opposite. “How nice would it be if my Prince Charming could just show up on his own without me having to seek him out?”

“My dear, that only happens in romance novels,” Isadora chuckled though Daphne looked on with more of an understanding expression.

“ And? ” Violet argued. “Prince Charming only happens in romance novels as well. That does not mean that we cease to hold out hope for him.”

“She has a point,” Isadora agreed, albeit begrudgingly. “Perhaps this will become true for you, Violet. Perhaps your Prince Charming will show up on his own without you having to seek him out.”

“Wouldn’t that be idea. Violet shook her head, laughing now too. In her fantasy world, this was exactly what she hoped would happen.

If only there was a way to make fantasy a reality. Some sort of magic spell…

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the butler announcing a name that sent a ripple through the room.

“The Duke of Bernight.”

Violet froze as every head turned toward the doorway. She heard the whispered reactions around her: “ The Duke is here?” “He never attends parties like this.” “Have you heard the stories about him?”

Violet followed the collective gaze reluctantly. There he was, Nicholas Havenford. The Duke of Bernight. His dark hair was artfully tousled, and his confident smile seemed to light the room. Violet had, of course, heard about him before.

Who hadn’t? The man was notorious amongst the ton.

People loved to gossip about him, and he did not help his own case much given his rather…

well, colorful life choices. He was also famous for being devilishly handsome.

Ultimately, he was a rake who lived his life to the fullest, much to the chagrin of the ladies of the ton—though he hardly seemed to concern himself with them.

But this was the first time that she was seeing him in the flesh.

And she had to admit to herself, there was some stock to the whispers about him. She found her gaze lingering on him longer than it ought to. He was striking and undeniably handsome.

“I cannot believe that the duke is here,” Isadora whispered to her two friends. “He is notorious for skipping public events such as this. Daphne, how on earth did you manage to convince him?”

“Oh, I cannot take the credit. The Duke of Bernight is a close friend of Ambrose,” Daphne said, smiling sheepishly in her husband’s direction, who was now greeting the Duke.

“Well,” Isadora murmured, leaning closer to her friends, “from the way the ladies are eyeing him already, one would think he’s the prize of the Season. Surely, he’s the most eligible bachelor here tonight.”

Violet’s gaze flickered reluctantly back to the Duke. She had tried to avoid paying him much attention, but Isadora’s words made it impossible not to notice.

“Just look at them,” Isadora continued, nodding toward a small group of debutantes nearby. Their whispered giggles and stolen glances left no doubt about who they were discussing. “I daresay some of them have already planned their introductions…”

“I can’t imagine he minds the attention…” Violet muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

“He does have an impressive reputation, does he not?” Isadora nodded. “I’ve heard that he possesses quite the charm. They say no woman is immune to it.”

“Girls, you must give him some more credit. Nicholas is more than just charm and good looks. He’s a loyal friend to Ambrose, and I imagine that he must possesses more depth than he lets on,” Daphne defended.

Isadora raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean he’s not fully aware of the effect he has on a room. I mean— just look at him now.”

Violet, unwillingly, followed Isadora’s gaze. The Duke stood effortlessly at the center of attention, his tall frame and confident stance making him impossible to ignore.

“And the worst part,” Isadora added, leaning closer to her friends, “is that he probably doesn’t even have to try.”

Violet scoffed quietly though her voice was tinged with something she couldn’t quite identify. “He must adore the attention.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Isadora grinned, nudging her friend playfully. “It would be enthralling to end up with someone who is so sought after. Perhaps you could try your luck, Violet.”

“Yes, if you are interested, then I can arrange for Ambrose to make your introduction,” Daphne agreed, always eager to help in whatever way possible.

Violet rolled her eyes. “No. I rather prefer someone a bit more…” Her eyes flickered across the room before they landed on a man in a brown suit, hunched over the corner of the room where the refreshment table was. “… demure.”

“Who are you talking about—” Isadora followed her friends gaze until she saw who she was referring to. “ Lord Kembert?”

Isadora’s laughter was so loud that it made several people look over in their direction.

She composed herself but could not get rid of the amused grin that had now seemed to have taken up permanent presence on her face.

Even Daphne seemed entertained by the notion though she masked it with her usual poised elegance.

Violet narrowed her eyes at her friends, vexed at their reaction. “What?”

“Oh—nothing, nothing,” Isadora continued, her voice now lower but still laced with laughter, “I just wanted to make sure that I had understood you correctly. You were looking at Lord Kembert, yes?”

Violet nodded, blushing slightly.

“The same Lord Kembert who is skulking by the refreshment table as though he’d rather be anywhere but here? That is the one you’re interested in?”

Daphne’s lips twitched as she tried to maintain her composure. “I mean, he does look… demure,” she said diplomatically, “and you mentioned how that is important to you. But I do not think he likes to socialize much, Violet.”

“He’s just shy,” Violet said firmly, crossing her arms. “I find that endearing.”

“It is not his fault, I suppose. Some gentlemen are simply not at ease in company.” Daphne nodded.

“Both of you are far too kind, I will say that,” Isadora noted. “He is quite the oddball. I am surprised you are charmed by him.”

Isadora had an incredulous look on her face, but Violet remained unfazed. “I would not use the word charm. But…” Her gaze flickered over to the Duke, who was still engaged in conversation with Ambrose. “Is charm really all there is to a person?”

Violet had first spotted Lord Kembert at a ball.

He had been perched in a corner with a book—without a care in the world for who might judge him.

It was no surprise to Violet that some might find his behaviour odd, but to her, it made him stand out.

He seemed to keep to himself, as well—not attracting much attention.

In her mind, she saw him as someone she could steadily build a life with. All she had ever wanted was a small family and a partner who shared her interests. Lord Kembert was already like her in many ways—he preferred to keep to himself and enjoyed books.

“Charm does help.” Isadora nudged her friend to look at Nicholas, who had just told some joke causing everyone around him to start laughing. “If anything, it keeps you entertained. Surely, that is important. Why, Daphne, what will we do if Lord Kembert bores Violet to death?”

Daphne began to chortle but quickly reeled herself back in when she noticed Violet fire an icy glare in her direction. “I am sure he is not that bad.”

“He isn’t,” Violet defended.

“And how would you know? You have never even spoken to him.” Isadora did not look convinced even for a second.

“I can tell.”

“Well, why not eliminate the guess work altogether?” Isadora’s eyes glinted mischievously. “He seems to be doing nothing of much importance at the moment. Why not go speak to him?”

“Now?” Violet faltered. She had not anticipated being put on the spot like this.

“Yes, now.” Isadora grinned, clearly enjoying herself too much. “It is as good as a time as ever. Unless, of course, you think that he might not be your perfect match after all.”

“He is, and I shall prove it to you,” Violet said. “I shall go and speak to him.”

“Violet, you do not have to do this. Isadora is merely trying to get a rise out of you,” Daphne cautioned, but she had already made up her mind.

Without wasting another moment, Violet slowly marched up to where Lord Kembert stood. Isadora was right—now was as good as a time as ever. But even as she approached, he did not bother to even look in her direction.

If anything, he seemed to be ignoring her all together. Violet wondered what she might say that could get him to speak to her.

I should have brought one of my books with me. That would have gotten his attention.

For a moment, she teetered at the edge of the table, pretending to peruse the trays of hors d’oeuvres, hoping he might finally look her way.

If he glances over, I shall smile and introduce myself.

That will surely begin our conversation.

But the moment never arrived. She stood there, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, painfully aware that she probably looked like a fool standing idle.

Just as she was losing hope, Lord Kembert finally moved. Her heart leapt as he took a step toward her, his lips parting as though he were about to speak. This is it! she thought, her breath catching.

“Miss, if you wouldn’t mind, you’re in my path.”

Violet blinked, stunned. “Oh! Of course.” She stepped aside quickly, her cheeks blazing as Lord Kembert walked past her without another word. She stood frozen, watching him retreat into the crowd, the moment unraveling into nothingness.

A soft laugh startled her, and she turned to see Isadora approaching. “Well? How did it go?”

Violet cleared her throat, smoothing her skirts in an attempt to compose herself. “It was… fine. He was busy, so we didn’t have much of a chance to talk.”

“Busy?” Isadora repeated, raising a brow. “He was standing there doing absolutely nothing.”

“Well,” Violet huffed, straightening her posture, “It’s just as well. It wouldn’t have been very romantic to have our first proper conversation by the refreshment table. He likely feels the same—he must be waiting for the right moment.”

“The right moment? And how, pray tell, do you know he’s even interested in speaking to you at all?”

Violet lifted her chin, her tone firm despite the lingering blush on her cheeks. “Oh, I can tell. There are things you just… know.”

Isadora stifled a laugh, tilting her head as though considering this. “Well, I must say, Violet, you are a most patient romantic.”

Violet ignored the teasing lilt in her friend’s voice, casting one last look in the direction Lord Kembert had gone. He is interested, she told herself. He just needs time.

Isadora shook her head, biting back another laugh as she linked her arm with Violet’s. “Come, my dear. Let’s find Daphne before you start planning your wedding.”