Page 25

N icholas wasn’t sure why he had asked her to stay. He wasn’t even sure why he hadn’t sent her away the moment she stepped into the drawing room. Yet here she was, seated across from him on the sofa, her hands folded neatly in her lap as her gaze wandered to the canvas.

“You really are full of surprises,” Violet said, breaking the silence.

“Am I?” he replied, arching a brow as he took a sip from his glass.

“The Duke of Bernight spending his nights painting landscapes,” she said, gesturing to the easel. “It’s not exactly the image one associates with you.”

He chuckled softly. “And what image do you associate with me, Violet?”

“Brooding. Mysterious. Perhaps a little…” she paused, and he hated just how curious he was for her to finish that sentence, “intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” he repeated, amused. This would not be the first time he had heard himself described as such.

“You don’t see yourself as intimidating?”

“I suppose it depends on the company,” he shrugged. “Though I’ll admit, the reputation does have its uses.”

Violet studied him for a moment before glancing at the canvas again. “Where did you learn to paint?”

“I picked it up as a child. Something to pass the time.”

“That’s a rather vague answer. Were you self-taught?” she probed further.

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Not exactly. My tutor introduced me to it, likely to keep me from causing trouble.”

“Oh, you were a troublemaker. That’s more in alignment with the image I had of you,” she nodded contemplatively.

“I had my moments, but my parents had little tolerance for such things. Painting kept me… occupied.”

There was a subtle shift in his tone, and Violet caught it immediately.

“I cannot imagine you being unoccupied for long. Surely, your parents kept you busy.”

A bitter smile ghosted across his lips. “Oh, they did. But only with what they deemed important—studies, etiquette, and preparation for the title. Anything that shaped me into what they needed me to be.”

Her brow furrowed as she studied him. “And what about you? What did you need?”

The question caught him off guard, and for a moment, he was silent. Then he shrugged, his gaze dropping to the glass in his hand. “It didn’t matter. They were too focused on each other to notice.”

The admission hung in the air, heavier than either of them had anticipated. Nicholas wasn’t sure why he’d said it—why it had come so easily to him. He glanced at Violet, expecting pity or awkwardness, but instead, he saw only quiet understanding in her green eyes.

“That sounds… lonely.” Her voice was barely above a whisper when she finally spoke. “It must have been difficult. Not having anyone to just… be there for you.”

Nicholas looked away, his jaw tightening. “You get used to it. Eventually, you stop expecting anything more.”

“It’s impressive, though,” she said after a moment, her voice soft. “What you’ve made of yourself.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Impressive?”

It was not every day that she awarded him a compliment.

“You’ve taken all of that, all the expectations and responsibilities, and turned it into something… meaningful,” she said. “That takes strength.”

He chuckled lightly though there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. “Very uncharacteristic of you to flatter me like this, Violet. Has the turpentine from the paint gone to your head?”

“It’s not flattery,” she replied quickly, chiding him with a simple glare. “It’s an observation.”

“An observation, I see. Well, allow me to make one of my own: You’re remarkably curious tonight.”

She flushed, glancing away. “Oh—I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, surprising himself with the honesty of the admission. “It’s… easier than I expected.”

The air between them shifted, the quiet hum of the room growing heavier.

He swallowed, trying to dispel the feeling of unease that had crept into the room.

“Anyhow, there is no need to discuss my childhood further. It was what it was. And besides, it gave me time to pick up a few unexpected skills as you so kindly put it.”

Violet smiled faintly, sensing his need to shift the mood. He felt grateful for that.

She was more observant than he gave her credit for.

“Well, I still think it’s impressive. Though I must admit, I’m glad to know there’s more to you than brooding and… lurking in the shadows.”

A much-needed chuckle escaped his lips. “Lurking in the shadows? Is this your not-so-subtle way of bringing up your vampire theory again?”

“I wasn’t going to,” she teased, her eyes sparkling, “but now that you mention it?—”

“Careful,” he warned playfully, leaning forward slightly. “I might take offense to that.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re very offended,” she quipped, laughing.

Nicholas’ smirk deepened as he leaned closer. “Perhaps I should prove you right, then.

Her laughter faltered as he moved toward her, his breath warm against her neck. “What are you?—”

“Do vampires do this?” he murmured in a teasing tone.

And then, with a touch so light it bordered on fleeting, his teeth grazed her neck.

He did not know what had overcome him at that moment, only that he could not help himself.

The sound she made hit him like a jolt. It wasn’t loud, but it filled the silence between them, amplifying the tension that now felt thick. He lingered for a moment too long, and his own breath became shallow, brushing against the delicate skin of her neck.

Nicholas froze, realizing too late that the playful gesture had crossed an invisible line. He pulled back quickly, his expression unreadable as he cleared his throat.

He should not have crossed that line.

“It was in jest,” he explained quickly, trying to sound calmer than how he felt in the moment. “I couldn’t resist when you had that look on your face.”

Violet’s cheeks burned furiously as she pressed her hand lightly against her neck, the place where his teeth had grazed her skin still tingling. Her thoughts were chaotic, and she couldn’t seem to decide whether to laugh or—well, she wasn’t sure what the alternative was.

Nicholas, for his part, appeared just as unsettled though he masked it far better.

“I did not wish to startle you like this,” he said. “Though it appears it is quite easy to do. I might have to remember that.”

Violet tried to muster a response, something equally lighthearted to diffuse the tension, but all she managed was a soft, awkward laugh. “Well, you…certainly succeeded.”

Was that his intention? The thought nearly drove her mad.

Nicholas continued to study her face. “You’re blushing,” he said, the words teasing but not unkind.

“I am not,” she said quickly. It was a lie that she was getting used to saying out loud and perhaps one that he was getting used to hearing.

It fooled no one.

“I should…” she began, searching desperately for an escape. “I should let you get back to your painting. I didn’t mean to keep you from it for so long.”

Nicholas tilted his head, his brow furrowing faintly. “You’re not keeping me from anything, Violet. We were just?—”

“Just joking,” she interrupted quickly, forcing a smile as she gathered her composure. “Yes, of course. It was just in jest.”

Something flickered across his face—an emotion she couldn’t quite place—but it was gone as quickly as it came. He nodded, “Precisely. Nothing to be taken too seriously.”

The words stung more than they should have, and Violet wasn’t entirely sure why. She forced herself to straighten, smoothing her gown one last time. “Well, then. Goodnight, Nicholas.”

Before he could reply, she turned on her heel and left the room, her steps quick but measured. The moment she was out of sight, she let out a shaky breath, pressing a hand to her chest in a vain attempt to steady her racing heart.

“Maria?”

Violet sat at her vanity, her fingers absently tracing the carvings on its edge as Maria, her most trusted maid, carefully pinned up her hair. Violet’s thoughts kept circling back to the night before, to the charged moment in the study and the way Nicholas had dismissed it with a single word.

It was just in jest.

“Yes, Your Grace?” the maid replied, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

“Why…” Violet paused, searching for the right words. “Why would you say something in… jest?”

Maria’s hands stilled for a moment, her brow furrowing in confusion. “In jest, Your Grace?”

“Yes,” Violet said, realizing how absurd the question must sound. She fumbled to clarify. “I mean, when someone says something is in jest… what do they mean by it?”

Maria blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Well, I suppose it’s something said to make someone laugh or… perhaps to lighten the mood? Something not meant to be taken seriously.”

“Not meant to be taken seriously,” Violet echoed quietly, her gaze dropping to her lap.

Right. That was all it was.

Maria studied her for a moment, clearly curious but too polite to pry. “Did someone say something to upset you, Your Grace?”

“No,” Violet said quickly, shaking her head. “No, it’s nothing. I was just… thinking aloud.”

Maria nodded and resumed her work on Violet’s hair.

Violet sighed inwardly, feeling foolish for asking the question in the first place. Of course, Nicholas hadn’t meant anything by it. It had been in jest, just as he said. And yet, the moment had felt so intimate. How could something that felt so significant to her be so easily dismissed by him?

She shook her head, scolding herself silently. She was letting her thoughts wander far too much. She was a duchess now with responsibilities and expectations to meet. Getting distracted by fleeting moments and half-formed feelings was a luxury she could not afford.

Her gaze shifted back to the mirror where Maria was adding the final touches to her hair. As Violet studied her reflection, she straightened her posture.

“It’s time I take my role more seriously. There’s so much to be done, so much I can improve upon,” she announced, more to herself than anyone else.