Page 21

Violet nodded, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm.

As they made their way to the waiting carriage, Nicholas couldn’t help but glance at her out of the corner of his eye.

Something had changed in her—it was the way she was carrying herself.

Even her gait seemed to have shifted slightly, her hips swaying in an irresistible manner as she walked.

And for the first time, he found himself eager to arrive at the ball—not to see the crowd or hear the music but to watch their reactions when they saw his duchess.

My duchess. Once again, the possessiveness in his words took him by surprise.

“Is something the matter?” Violet asked, turning her head slightly to look at him as they climbed into the carriage.

Nicholas hesitated for a moment, realizing he had been caught staring. He cleared his throat and adjusted his cuff, leaning back slightly as if to create some physical distance between himself and the thought that had just crossed his mind.

“Nothing at all,” Nicholas replied smoothly though his lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Though I must say, perhaps I have been taking you lightly all this time.”

Her face contorted with confusion. “I beg your pardon?” she asked as the carriage began to roll forward.

He tilted his head toward her, his dark eyes still holding a trace of that earlier intensity. “Must I point it out to you? I thought it was already quite…” His gaze dropped to her dress again. “… blatant.”

Violet’s face flushed, and Nicholas found himself thinking just how satisfying that felt for reasons he did not even wish to explore. Not yet.

For now, he was happy just enjoying the moment.

“I do not know what you are referring to.”

Ah. So, the duchess would prefer to play innocent.

Nicholas let his smirk widen, folding his hands casually in his lap as he regarded her. “If I did not know any better, I would think that you were trying to seduce your husband.”

Her blush deepened. “And where did you get that idea from?” she asked, her breath coming out faster now.

“Just a hunch,” he shrugged, playing coy. “I understand why you did not wish for me to see the gown before. Very well played.”

She looked up at him then, as though she did not fully understand what had prompted this. “Is that what is this about? My gown?”

“You could say that. Was that not your intention? The gown, the hair, the way you’re walking tonight…if I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a plan.”

She seemed to mumble something under her breath then looked away.

“Answer me, duchess.”

But then, the tension in the air eased, and Violet broke into laughter.

“The gown is Madame Celine’s doing, not mine. And as for the way I walk—” She broke off, unable to suppress another giggle. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously observant,” Nicholas countered, leaning forward slightly. His tone was teasing, but his eyes betrayed something warmer, something deeper.

Violet gave him a mock glare though her smile betrayed her. “And do you always flatter yourself like this, Your Grace?”

“Only when the situation calls for it.”

“You’re impossible.”

His gaze lingered on her lips for a moment before he forced himself to look away, his hands tightening briefly on his lap. He could feel the faint itch in his fingers, the urge to reach out and touch her, to brush a loose strand of hair from her face or rest his hand lightly on her cheek.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he cleared his throat, leaning back once more. “I’m glad I could make you laugh, at least,” he said softly. “It suits you.”

Violet blinked, her cheeks warming again though she managed to keep her composure. “Thank you. Though I am not used to you being so nice to me.”

“Well, you ought to get used to it. Especially tonight,” he nodded. “This will be our first official event that we are attending as a couple, and it would be wise to keep up appearance. If only to make the ton shut up about their ridiculous theories about our marriage.”

The smile on her face disappeared for a moment, but she was quick to compose herself. “Oh, right. Appearances. That is all there is to it.”

“I have no doubt in our abilities to do so,” he continued. “That gown has done half the work for us already.”

Violet cleared her throat, rubbing the side of her arms. She took a few moments to speak again, and Nicholas found himself wondering just what exactly was going through that mind of hers.

“I see. Are you suggesting that we act like a happy couple?” she finally said. “Young and in love with another?”

He smirked. Now, it was getting interesting for him. “Yes. That is exactly what I am suggesting. It has not been lost on me what the ton has been saying about our marriage. It’s either that you have trapped me in a marriage or that I have coerced you due to my title.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “And what is the truth?”

“Somewhere in the middle,” he admitted. “Both of us were… thrust into this. But now that we are here, I say that we give them a good show.”

Violet studied him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Nicholas wondered if he had overstepped, if his bluntness had hit a nerve.

“A good show,” she repeated, her tone thoughtful. “And how, exactly, do you propose we do that?”

“By being convincing, of course. A few shared smiles, some well-placed laughter, maybe even a dance or two.”

Her brows rose, and her lips quirked into something resembling amusement. “You truly are committed to this act.”

“It might make the evening more bearable,” he said lightly.

But as the words left his lips, the idea of holding her close, of feeling her warmth as they moved across the dance floor, made his smirk falter for the briefest moment.

Violet didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy contemplating his words, her gaze flickering downward.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said finally. “If we’re going to act like a happy couple, we should at least try to be convincing.”

“You make it sound as though it’s an impossible task.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and for a moment, the air between them shifted.

“Isn’t it?” she asked, her voice quiet. “You and I… we barely know each other.”

“And yet,” Nicholas replied, leaning forward slightly, “here we are.”

Her breath hitched almost imperceptibly, and he caught the faintest flicker of vulnerability in her expression before she quickly masked it.

She cleared her throat, sitting up straighter. “Yes, well, circumstances have a way of forcing people together.”

“They do. But we do not have to make it seem so forced tonight.”

Violet frowned slightly, her hands smoothing over the fabric of her gown again. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is,” he said. “At least, it can be if we let it. Why complicate things?”

She didn’t respond right away. He could see the wheels turning behind her eyes, the internal debate she seemed to be waging with herself. What would he give to find out what actually was going through her mind? For a moment, he wanted to ask her what she was thinking, but he stopped himself.

Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against hers lightly before he realized what he was doing. Violet looked down at the contact, her lips parting slightly in surprise, and Nicholas quickly withdrew, clearing his throat.

“Well,” he said, his tone returning to its usual lightness. “Shall we, Duchess? I believe we have a performance to deliver.”

The carriage stopped. They had arrived at their destination.

Violet blinked, her composure returning as she stood. “Of course, Your Grace,” she said though her voice was softer than before.

Nicholas offered her his arm, and she hesitated for only a moment before slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. As they made their way toward the ballroom, the tension between them lingered. Nicholas found himself glancing at her again.

He had suggested a performance, but for the first time, he wondered who exactly they were trying to convince—the ton or themselves.

They made their way to the ballroom, her holding onto his arm. Nicholas felt it immediately—the way the room seemed to shift toward her, as if every man in attendance had turned his head to get a better look. The whispers began almost immediately.

“ Is that the new duchess?”

“ She’s stunning.”

“ She looks… different.”

Nicholas’ jaw tightened imperceptibly though he kept his expression cool. He didn’t bother acknowledging the stares or the murmurs. Instead, he leaned slightly toward Violet, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

“It seems you’ve managed to captivate the entire room already, Duchess.”

Violet glanced up at him, her brow lifting slightly. “I doubt that.”

“Oh, I assure you,” Nicholas replied, his tone edged with something resembling pride, “you’ve caught the eye of more than a few gentlemen here tonight.”

She hesitated, glancing briefly at the crowd, and Nicholas caught the flicker of unease that crossed her face. He frowned slightly though he quickly masked it.

“Fortunately for you,” he continued, “the gentleman you have on your arm trumps them all.”

Violet blinked then turned her gaze back to him. “Lucky me,” she said dryly, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Though one might argue that you’re the lucky one, Your Grace.”

“ Oh?”

Maybe he was.

“Well,” Violet said lightly, tilting her head, “I am the one doing most of the work tonight. All you have to do is stand there and look imposing.”

Nicholas chuckled softly, leaning slightly closer and flashing his teeth at her. “I’d argue that I excel at looking imposing. Like a vampire as some would say.”

That got a small laugh out of her— quite a delightful sound, he realized.

“Debatable.”

“Which part?” he countered.

“I’ll leave that for you to figure out,” she smiled.

The tension that had lingered between them earlier seemed to ease, replaced by a playful rhythm. A new dynamic seemed to be forming between the two of them—one that felt quite fun. Nicholas found himself smirking, his jealousy fading into the background as he focused entirely on her.

“Shall we make our entrance properly?” he asked, offering her his hand.

“Lead the way, Your Grace.”

As they progressed further into the ballroom, the stares continued. They did not bother him in the slightest. Instead, he stood taller, a quiet pride settling over him. Let them look , he thought. Let them see that the most stunning woman in the room was his duchess.

And if any of them dared to forget it, Nicholas decided he’d be more than happy to remind them.

“I think we should start the evening with something grand,” Nicholas suggested, already feeling bored of the ball. He was never too fond of them to begin with. It was something that they shared in common, perhaps.

“What is more grand than a scandal? Which we have already been a part of.”

“A dance,” he clarified, a smirk playing at his lips. “To properly set the tone for the evening.”

“Are you asking me to dance with you, Your Grace?”

“I am,” Nicholas replied smoothly. “Unless, of course, you have a better idea.”

Violet laughed softly, shaking her head. “Oh, no. I’m just surprised you’d suggest such a thing. It’s not very… well, like… you.”

“Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think.”

She hesitated for a moment then nodded, slipping her hand into his. “Very well. Let’s dance.”

Nicholas led her toward the center of the room where other couples were beginning to gather.

As they came together, Nicholas’ hand rested lightly on her waist while her gloved hand settled on his shoulder.

The first steps were measured, their movements gliding effortlessly across the polished floor.

Violet’s posture was perfect, her head held high, but Nicholas could feel the slight tension in her frame.

“You’re stiff.”

“I’m fine,” she replied quickly though her tone betrayed her nerves.

“Relax, Violet. It’s just a dance.”

She sighed quietly, her grip on his shoulder easing slightly. “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve likely done this hundreds of times.”

“And yet,” he said, guiding her into a gentle turn, “I find myself enjoying it more tonight than ever before.”

Violet blinked, startled by his words, but before she could respond, he continued, “Why don’t you tell me something, to distract yourself? Something I don’t know about you.”

Her lips parted slightly, and she hesitated, her gaze flickering down to where their hands were joined. “There isn’t much to tell,” she said finally. “My life before this was… ordinary.”

“Ordinary? I find that hard to believe.”

“I suppose there is one thing,” she said softly. “The night of the garden party—the night of our…scandal—I ended up in the gardens because I was desperate.”

His steps slowed slightly. “Desperate?” he repeated. She had really piqued his interest now.

Violet nodded, her gaze distant. “I had just been rejected by someone I thought I wanted to marry. I felt foolish and humiliated, and I needed to escape.”

Nicholas’ jaw tightened though he kept his expression composed. “I see,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “And this man… do you still feel that way about him?”

Violet shook her head quickly, her blush deepening. “No. I’ve realized since then that I wasn’t in love with him. It was more… the idea of him. The idea of being with someone who fit the life I thought I wanted.”

Nicholas felt something shift inside him, a faint, simmering unease that he couldn’t quite name.

He didn’t like the idea of another man occupying her thoughts, even if she claimed she no longer cared for him.

The thought of her feeling desperate, rejected, because of someone else stirred something deeper—a protectiveness.

“I see,” he said again, his tone softer this time. “And what of the life you thought you wanted? Do you still long for it?”

Violet hesitated, her gaze lifting to meet his. “No,” she said finally. “That life wasn’t meant for me. I see that now.”

Nicholas nodded, his grip on her waist tightening slightly though his touch remained gentle. “Good,” he said quietly. “Because you’re far better than that.”

Violet blinked, startled by his words, and for a moment, the tension between them grew palpable. Nicholas could feel her gaze on him, questioning, searching, but he didn’t look away.

The music swelled, and Nicholas guided her into another turn, his movements steady and deliberate. He couldn’t quite explain the knot in his chest or the way her words lingered in his mind. All he knew was that, as they moved together across the floor, she felt entirely in sync with him.

And for the first time, he wondered if perhaps their performance tonight wasn’t entirely an act.