Page 27

N icholas stood at the door, watching as Violet disappeared inside.

Now alone, he exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned away from the manor.

My help is available if you require it.

He hadn’t planned on offering to help with the ball—he despised such events after all. And yet, he’d done it.

Why?

His feet moved instinctively down the gravel path that wound through the estate gardens, his hands slipping into his pockets as he walked. He needed a moment alone with his thoughts.

Nicholas had always been adept at keeping people at arm’s length. It was safer that way. Relationships, especially of the emotional variety, were never something he sought out. He’d learned that early. His parents had taught him well enough after all.

So why was he offering himself as someone Violet could learn to depend on? That had not been a part of their initial agreement. He had not even realized it till now, but they had changed the terms of their marriage quite a bit these last few weeks.

Far from the impersonal existing together of their initial agreement, their relationship was growing into something more that resembled… a partnership.

He was changing in ways that he had never anticipated.

Tonight, she had looked at him with something akin to trust.

It’s dangerous.

A very dangerous thing, that look. It threatened to chip away at the walls he had built so carefully around himself, making him want to be someone better. Someone who might deserve that trust.

Nicholas paused near the edge of the gardens, staring up at the dark sky.

What was happening to him?

He could feel it—the pull toward her, the way her presence unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain. And yet, he knew he couldn’t afford to let it take hold. Not for her sake and not for his.

It was dangerous territory, for he could not tread the path it was leading up to. He could not allow himself to.

He had long since resigned himself to a life without such things, and he wasn’t about to drag her into the void with him.

“This needs to stop,” he sighed, feeling the crushing weight of his realization.

He had to be careful, had to maintain the boundaries that were already beginning to blur. His promise to attend the ball—and offer to help —had been a lapse in judgment—a crack in his armor.

He would help her with the ball. He had promised after all. But he would remind himself every step of the way that this was a duty—a role to play. Nothing more.

Even if part of him—one that was becoming harder to ignore the more time he spent in her company—was beginning to wish it could be.

Preparations for the ball were in full swing.

Violet sat at the oak table, surrounded by papers and ledgers. A steaming cup of tea sat forgotten at her side. Across from her, Mrs. Smith reviewed the guest list with her usual precision.

In the past few weeks, Violet had grown accustomed to Mrs. Smith’s no-nonsense demeanor. And Mrs. Smith had grown used to her as well.

In fact, Violet had discovered that they worked quite well together. Their relationship had changed for the better since Violet had arrived, and there was a sense of mutual respect building between them.

“The invitations must go out by the end of the week, Your Grace,” Mrs. Smith began calmly. “To make the process easier, I’ve compiled a list of the most influential families within the ton . Their attendance will undoubtedly bolster the success of the ball.”

Violet nodded, her fingers brushing absently over the edge of a folded letter. She had been focusing all her attention to the ball these last few days.

What had started as a distraction was now an all-consuming part of her day.

It had to be perfect. For it wasn’t merely about hosting an event, it was about proving her worth—to the estate, to society, and, though she hardly dared admit it, to Nicholas. The thought of his approval lingered in the back of her mind.

She would never admit it to him of course, but she wanted to prove to him that she was up to the task.

Mrs. Smith slid a fresh list across the table. “This includes those who are expected. Their presence will lend weight to the evening.”

Violet began to skim through the list. It was mostly names that she recognized—and approved of. But then she spotted one that stood out to her.

It made her pause for a moment, sending ripples of unease through her chest. She stiffened slightly, willing her expression to remain neutral.

“Lady Pennywise?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

Mrs. Smith glanced at her briefly, clearly unaware of the effect the name had caused. “Indeed. She is well-connected, widely admired, and known for hosting some of the grandest gatherings in London. Inviting her would set an excellent precedent for your own event.”

Violet’s hand froze mid-motion. Her stomach knotted, and her mind raced with memories of whispers and gossip. She had never met the Lady, but she had heard her name before.

A sense of dread washed over her as she registered where she remembered her name from.

She had heard it paired with Nicholas.

There had been rumours about them together which had never bothered her before. He had a reputation as a rake, and there were many ladies whose name was associated with him. But now, things had changed.

Now, Violet could not keep her hand from shaking, her cheeks warming with chagrin.

“I am not sure if it would be wise to invite her, Mrs. Smith.”

“Why not, Your Grace? Lady Pennywise is highly connected within the ton . Her presence would certainly lend prestige to the event.”

Violet hesitated, forcing herself to keep her expression neutral as she searched for an explanation that wouldn’t betray the true reason for her reluctance.

“I simply believe her… reputation might overshadow the purpose of the evening. This ball is about establishing our household, not courting unnecessary attention.”

Mrs. Smith tilted her head slightly. “If that is your wish, Your Grace,” she said carefully, “I will leave her off the list.”

Violet breathed out a sigh of relief, feeling grateful that the housekeeper did not press further. She did not wish to discuss the rumours that had surrounded her husband before marriage.

Nicholas’ reputation as a rake was no secret, but to have it thrust into her lap like this—so casually —made it feel all the more real.

“That would be good,” she lifted her chin slightly, willing herself to appear unaffected.

“Is there anyone else you would prefer to leave out, Your Grace?”

Violet hesitated, her hand pausing over the list of names.

She looked down at the carefully curated list Mrs. Smith had prepared.

It should have been simple—a straightforward matter of deciding who would or would not attend.

But now, with Lady Pennywise’s name still lingering in her mind, she felt a sudden and unwelcome shift in her focus.

Her eyes scanned the list again, this time with a new lens. The names of other prominent ladies began to stand out—ladies she had heard whispers about, ladies who had once been linked to Nicholas in one way or another. The thought made her stomach tighten.

“Maybe,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter than she intended. “I think it’s best if we go through the list again. Just to be certain.”

The housekeeper obliged, listing names with her usual precision, but Violet’s mind was no longer in the room. Her thoughts lingered stubbornly on Lady Pennywise—on the jealousy that had crept in so suddenly

It was irrational, she told herself firmly.

What did it matter what had happened before their marriage?

It wasn’t as though Nicholas had promised her anything beyond what their arrangement demanded.

And yet, the thought of any woman from his past being in the same room, casting knowing glances or whispering behind her back, was enough to make her skin prickle.

The rest of the meeting passed in a haze. Clearly, she was in no mood to discuss these matters anymore. When Mrs. Smith finally left her alone, Violet sank back into her chair, staring blankly at the list before her.

Why does this bother me so much? she thought. She had no reason to feel this way—Nicholas had made no effort to hide who he had been before their marriage, nor had he given her cause for concern since.

She sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples. This was not who she was supposed to be—a petty, jealous wife clinging to whispers of the past.

She was a duchess now with responsibilities that demanded her full attention. This ball wasn’t about her feelings or insecurities; it was about proving herself capable, about cementing her place in society.

And yet … it seemed that ghosts from her husband’s past had come to haunt her .

“Oh, focus for heaven’s sake,” she reminded herself.

Rising from her chair, she began pacing the room, her mind turning toward the myriad tasks still to be done. She would not let herself falter.

The ball had to be perfect.

Dinner that evening was a quiet—and lonely—affair.

Violet sat alone at the long dining table, her plate barely touched. She pushed a roasted carrot around her plate absentmindedly.

Nicholas hadn’t come. Again.

At first, she’d convinced herself that it was nothing. He was busy, likely caught up with his responsibilities. He was a sought-after man, after all. But as the minutes dragged on, irrational thoughts began to creep in, unwelcome and relentless. Where was he? What was he doing?

Who was he with?

She shook her head, scolding herself silently. It was ridiculous. Nicholas wasn’t the kind of man to sneak off with someone else. She bit her lip, her cheeks warming with embarrassment at the mere thought.

Her eyes flicked to the butler, who stood attentively near the door. Summoning what she hoped was a casual tone, she spoke. “Have you seen His Grace this evening?”

The butler stepped forward, bowing his head slightly. “The Duke is in his study, Your Grace.”