Page 28

Violet’s shoulders sagged in relief though she immediately felt foolish for her earlier thoughts. Of course, he was in his study. Where else would he be? She glanced down at her untouched plate, her appetite long gone.

She had let her imagination get the better of her, crafting ridiculous scenarios out of nothing.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

The butler stepped back to his position near the door. Violet toyed with the edge of her napkin, her earlier unease replaced by a different kind of restlessness.

She knew she was being irrational, but Nicholas’ absence gnawed at her more than she wanted to admit. She had grown used to his company. The idea that he might be retreating into his own world again felt… unsettling.

She pushed her chair back and stood, pacing the length of the room as her mind raced. If he was in his study, then he wasn’t avoiding her entirely. And hadn’t he promised to help her with the ball?

“That’s right,” she murmured to herself, stopping mid-step. “He did say he would help.”

She would go to his study to seek his input on the ball, nothing more. It was perfectly reasonable.

With a final glance at the untouched plate on the table, Violet left the dining room, her steps purposeful as she made her way down the dimly lit hall.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A sharp sound cut through the quiet of the study. Nicholas paused mid-motion, and his gaze flicked toward the door, irritation already beginning to simmer.

He had retreated to his study to avoid people this evening.

“I’m busy,” he called out curtly.

The silence that followed was satisfying. Perhaps whoever it was had taken the hint and left him to his work. Nicholas breathed a sigh of relief. But just as he dipped his quill into the ink pot, another knock—louder this time—broke the silence.

His jaw tightened.

“Go away.”

Another pause. He waited, watching the door as if his glare alone could ward off whoever was on the other side. When no sound came, he exhaled slowly and returned to his work.

But the knock came again.

This time, it was firmer, more deliberate. The sound echoed in the still room, grating against his already thinning patience. Nicholas closed his eyes briefly, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Pushing back his chair with a quiet scrape, he rose to his feet. His long strides carried him to the door, his irritation palpable. If this was some trivial matter, the person responsible would surely regret it.

He flung the door open, ready to deliver a reprimand.

And froze.

Violet stood there, her hand still half-raised as if prepared to knock again. She looked startled by his sudden appearance but not enough to shrink back. Instead, she straightened her shoulders, her hands nervously smoothing the folds of her gown.

Perfect. Just the person that he was hoping to avoid.

“Violet.”

“I…” She hesitated, her cheeks tinting pink. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Nicholas blinked, caught off guard by her unexpected presence. His irritation from earlier waned slightly, replaced by a faint sense of curiosity. But he quickly reminded himself of his plan—distance. He had resolved to keep her at arm’s length, to avoid the pull she seemed to have over him.

“I’m in the middle of something,” he said, gesturing toward the papers on his desk. “Is this urgent?”

“I… yes, I believe it is.”

Nicholas leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he regarded her. “Considering the persistence of your knocking, I suspect you already know the answer to that.”

“I wouldn’t have persisted if it weren’t important.”

“Important enough to disturb my work?” His brow arched.

“Yes, well, you did not show up for dinner therefore I had no other choice.” She folded her arms neatly in front of her chest.

“I wasn’t aware that my presence at dinner was compulsory. I do have other matters to attend to, Duchess.”

Violet’s lips pressed into a thin line, her hands tightening in front of her. “Other matters that prevent you from sparing even a moment? Surely whatever you’re doing in here isn’t so dire that it requires complete isolation.”

“Surely you can manage one meal without me, Duchess.”

She stared at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “What exactly are you doing that’s so important?” she asked, glancing toward his desk. “I realize now that I have hardly seen you for days.”

His jaw tightened at the comment. Yes, that was by design. It occurred to him that she did not seem to realize that he was avoiding her .

“Work,” he replied.

“Work,” she repeated skeptically, her eyes narrowing. “But it is rather odd, isn’t it? You won’t join me for dinner, you dismiss me at the door, and now you’re claiming you’re too busy to even explain yourself. One might start to wonder.”

Nicholas stared at her. Amusement flickered in his dark eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

As much as he did not wish to admit it, she looked quite… endearing, standing at his door like this.

“And what is it that one might wonder, duchess?”

He hadn’t intended to engage her like this, but the way she stood there was difficult to resist.

“Tell me, Violet,” he said, his voice softening just slightly. “What is it you’re so determined to find here?

Her eyes widened at the question, and for a moment, she seemed genuinely caught off guard. “I…” She hesitated, her gaze darting toward his desk before returning to him. “I came to speak to you about the ball.”

“The ball,” he repeated, straightening. Of course. “ And that could not wait till morning?”

She shook her head, stubbornly. “Need I remind you that it was you who offered your help?”

That he had. With a dramatic sigh, he stepped aside, motioning for her to enter. “Very well. Since you’ve gone to such great lengths to secure my attention, let me hear what it is that you have to say.”

Violet stepped inside, her posture still rigid though he noted the flicker of relief that crossed her face.

He returned to his desk, sitting down and gesturing to the chair opposite him.

“I…well…” she flushed. “I just wanted to speak about…”

“Go on,” he probed, feeling his curiosity thicken.

“The ball.”

“And what about the ball?” his tone begun to grow suspicious. Could it be possible that she did not have something truly important to say?

“Well…”

“How are the preparations?”

“Quite well, actually,” Violet replied without stammering on her words for the first time. “Everything seems to be on schedule.”

“That is… impressive. But excuse me for being confused, Violet. I do not see what was so urgent about telling me this.”

“It is a good idea to keep you informed, I think.”

“And what does purpose that does serve?” he drawled, finding himself growing amused by her again. “Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds as though you have everything under control.”

“Well, yes… I mean, mostly. There are a few… small details I thought I could consult you on.”

“And will you finally tell me what these small details are, or do you wish for us to go in circles indefinitely?”

His words came out harsher than he wanted them to be, and she recoiled visibly.

“The… guest list,” she said finally, her voice quieter now. “That was what I wished to speak to you about.”

“I have no input to that. You may invite who you please,” Nicholas shrugged.

“It’s not a trivial thing,” she protested, sitting a little straighter. “A poorly considered guest list can ruin an event entirely.”

“True enough,” he conceded though his eyes remained fixed on her. Something didn’t quite add up. If her only concern was the guest list, why had she come here so late, knocking so insistently?

“Is something bothering you, Violet?” he asked finally, knowing full well that he was breaking the promise that he had made to himself by doing so.

But somehow, she had a talent for disarming him. He could not help himself when she was pouting like that.

Her eyes widened slightly, and she shook her head. “Nothing is bothering me. I told you, I came to discuss the ball.”

“Hmm,” Nicholas murmured, unconvinced. He rested his chin on his hand, his gaze unwavering. “Forgive me, but I am not sure if I am convinced.”

“You are mistaken.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re a terrible liar, Violet.”

Violet’s cheeks flushed, and she looked away, clearly flustered. “I just…”

“I think it will save both of us time if you just come out and say what is on your mind.”

“It’s just… when reviewing the guest list, I came across certain names. Those that… well, that made me curious.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In the guest list that Mrs. Smith made, there were a few names that had…” she said, the word coming out in a rush, “… certain associations. With you.”

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and a smirk began to form on his face.

Violet squirmed in her seat, her cheeks now a deep shade of pink. “It’s not as though I’m—well, I don’t mean to pry, but I thought it might be… prudent to discuss.”

“And which names, precisely, have inspired this newfound prudence?”

She hesitated, clearly reluctant to admit it. “Lady Pennywise,” she said finally.

Nicholas raised his eyebrow. “Who is that?”

Violet blinked in disbelief. “Lady Pennywise. Do you not remember?”

“Was she associated with me at any point of time?” he asked, innocently.

“Yes, she was,” Violet confirmed. “I cannot believe that you do not remember.”

Nicholas let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Forgive me, Violet. I tend to forget about unimportant things. But this Lady Pennywise—I assume you have heard rumors about her and me?”

Violet looked mortified, her eyes darting away. “I may have heard… something,” she admitted reluctantly.

Nicholas regarded her for a moment, his amusement fading as he saw the genuine uncertainty in her expression.

“Violet,” he said, his voice softening, “you have nothing to worry about. For one thing, she is not even important enough for me to remember. But more than that, she is firmly in the past as are any other… associations you may have heard about.”