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V iolet sat in the carriage, her gloved hands folded tightly in her lap. It was the first time that she was stepping out of the estate in more than a week.

Only on the invitation from Daphne had she finally been persuaded to leave. Daphne had invited her over for dinner. Violet had not wanted to go initially, but her resolve had finally broken down in the end.

Perhaps it would do her good, she thought, to leave the suffocating emptiness of the estate behind, even if just for an evening.

By the time the carriage pulled up to Daphne’s home, Violet was already second-guessing her decision. But it was too late now. Daphne’s excitement was undeniable as she rushed forward to greet her friend the moment she stepped foot into the estate.

“Violet! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me entirely,” she teased. “So lovely to see you here.”

Violet could only manage a faint smile. “I could never.”

Daphne took her hands, studying her carefully. “You look tired, my dear. Are you feeling well?”

“Yes, yes. I am fine,” Violet replied, avoiding her friend’s sharp gaze.

Daphne frowned but didn’t press immediately. “Well, no matter. You’re here now, and I intend to spoil you thoroughly. Come inside—it’s far too cold to stand out here.”

Violet allowed herself to be led into the house where the warmth and chatter of Daphne’s small gathering awaited.

“Is Isadora here?” Violet asked. It would be good to see her friends in this trying time.

“I did send her an invitation,” Daphne replied. “We should be expecting her later in the evening. You are early, but this is a good thing. It gives us some time to talk.”

Violet toyed with the fabric of her sleeve.

“This way,” she said, guiding Violet through the hallway. Only a few guests had arrived so far though Violet was unsure of just how many were invited. From the letter, Daphne had made it sound like an intimate gathering.

Daphne nudged open the door to a cozy sitting room where a crackling fire bathed the space in a warm glow. “I thought you might prefer someplace quieter.”

Violet stepped inside, her gaze lingering on the flickering flames. “You know me quite well.”

Daphne grinned. “That I do, and I am dying to hear from you. It seems that you have neglected to write to me these last few weeks. But no matter—you are here now, and you shall tell me in person.”

Violet avoided her friend’s gaze and went to sit down on one of the two settees beside the fire. She held out her hands in front of it, letting herself bask in the warmth of its glow.

“Well, then,” Daphne prodded, “do you plan on keeping me in suspense?”

Violet’s eyes flicked over to her friend, who was staring down at her with a curious expression. “What is it that you would like to know?”

“Everything, of course, ” Daphne giggled, taking a seat across her friend. “How are things at the estate? How is your marriage with the Duke going? I noticed that he did not come today though Ambrose mentioned that he was away at the lakeside cottage. He must be busy, I presume.”

Violet froze at the mention of her husband. “He’s… still in London?”

Well, nearby anyway. This was the first instance of her hearing any news about him since he had left, and the surprise in her features was palpable.

“You didn’t know?” Daphne’s eyebrows knitted together. “How strange. I thought he would have told you. Ambrose went to meet him the other day.”

“How is he doing?” Violet could not stop herself from asking. It was a question that had plagued her the moment he had left Bernight.

Was he well? Did he think of her? Had he already found someone else?

Daphne seemed quite taken aback by her friend’s questions. “I did not probe too much. I had assumed that it was quite a normal thing for him to be gone, but I am quite doubtful of that now with how you’re reacting. Did you not know where he was?”

Violet flushed immediately, mentally chastising herself. She had let on more than she wanted.

“No…” She struggled to come up with a believable explanation. “Of course, I knew. It’s just that he has not found the time to write to me yet, so I was naturally curious.”

Daphne continued to observe her friend, brows furrowed.

“Then why did you begin your inquiry by asking me if he was in London?” she shot back. “If you knew about his whereabouts.”

“I do not see the point of this line of questioning.” Violet shifted uncomfortably in her seat and focused her attention back on the burning fire. “Besides, it was an innocent question. I merely asked how he was doing. You need not blow it out of proportion like this.”

“You’re growing defensive.” Daphne raised an eyebrow. “Now, I really suspect that something has gone awry.”

Violet looked up, irked. She wanted to tell her friend off for questioning her so much, but when she saw the concern on her features, she stopped herself—her irritation melting away.

Violet took her time to respond, her fingers twisting in her lap. “I am not sure where to even begin.”

Daphne’s frown deepened. “Did the two of you have an argument? Is that why he’s gone away to the other residence?”

“No, there was no argument,” Violet answered simply. That much was true at least. She swallowed hard before admitting the second part of her confession. “He… well, he simply left.”

Daphne stared at her, uncomprehending at first. “Left?” she repeated, her voice rising slightly. “What do you mean he left?”

“He said—” Violet’s voice broke, and she had to take a moment to steady herself. “He said we should live separately. That he couldn’t—” She stopped, unable to finish the sentence.

Daphne’s expression shifted from confusion to shock and then to anger. “He left you? For what reason?”

Violet shook her head. “He claimed it was his fault. That he wasn’t… suited to this life.”

“You mean married life?” Daphne said, her mouth hanging open. “That sounds absurd—surely you see that too?”

“I suppose he grew bored,” Violet admitted out loud for the first time. Just saying it was enough to make a knife twist at her heart all over again.

“Bored of you? ” Daphne got up, visibly riled up.

“Please sit down,” Violet said, her cheeks flushing in mortification. “I am confiding in you as a friend. The last thing I need is for you react like this, even if it is for my behalf.”

Daphne drew a long breath and sat back down—though the anger on her face was still visible.

“Did he tell you himself that he was bored, or is this something that you have thought of on your own?” she asked.

“He did not have to say; it was implied.” Violet went back to gazing the fire. “He said that… well, that he missed what his life was like before we got married and that he could not adjust therefore he must leave.”

Daphne gasped loudly at that. “I do not believe this.”

“I have no reason to lie to you,” Violet muttered.

“I must apologise.” Daphne tried hard to compose herself again. “I did not mean to imply that I am calling you a liar. Just that this behaviour feels very uncharacteristic of Nicholas.”

Violet frowned. “Does it?” Truthfully, she found herself questioning what his real personality was. He had shifted so suddenly—and cruelly—that she had a hard time making sense of what was real and what was not.

“I assure you that the Nicholas I know would never do something so crass as outright leaving his wife because he has trouble adjusting,” Daphne defended.

“Oh, I am not sure of that. Perhaps he missed his rakish ways, and I was simply not enough for him,” Voilet’s voice was devoid of any emotion as she spoke.

“Don’t speak about yourself in that manner,” Daphne chided immediately.

“I am sure there is more to the situation here than he is letting on. Despite his rakish past, he is a man of principle. I know this because Ambrose has always spoken very highly of him—and knowing my husband, that is not something to be taken lightly.”

Violet chewed on her lip. She did not really know how to respond to her friend. Conflicting thoughts swirled her mind again.

“Well, unless he decides to change his mind, there is no use in discussing this,” she conceded.

“Violet,” Daphne said, alarmed, “Nicholas left the estate, and you are acting as though this is a trivial matter.”

Violet fought to keep the tears from falling from her eyes.

“Oh, my dear.” Daphne lunged forward to hug her friend immediately. “I am sorry. I have not handled this well at all, have I? You are hurting.”

Violet finally let herself feel the emotions that she had been suppressing all week.

“I have deep feelings for him,” she said as tears began to cascade down her cheeks. “Foolishly, I thought that he might feel the same. Things had been going well between us. But then he abruptly told me that he could not live with me anymore. I am at a loss for what to do.”

Daphne rubbed her back, holding her friend close. “You don’t have to go through this alone. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Violet allowed herself to lean into the comfort of her friend’s embrace. They stayed like that for a long time.

Finally, Daphne pulled back, her tone turning resolute. “I will not allow you to leave and go back to that empty estate until you feel better.”

Violet hesitated but ultimately nodded. She, too, found the idea of returning to the estate quite daunting.

“As for Nicholas, I have no idea what has gotten into him. But rest assured, I shall speak about this with Ambrose. Perhaps he can talk some sense into him.”

Violet shook her head, “No, no, no. You will do no such thing.”

“And why not? It is a good idea in my opinion,” Daphne pressed.

“It doesn’t matter,” Violet said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. She clasped her hands together in her lap. “Nicholas left of his own accord, Daphne. If he wishes to return, it will have to be his decision.”

Daphne leaned forward, her lips pressing into a thin line. “So, what? You’re just going to sit here and wait? Hoping he’ll come to his senses?”