Page 6

“ A Duchess? You are going to be the Duchess of Bernight?”

Isadora did not bother to hide the surprise in her voice. She stared at her friend in disbelief. Violet could hardly blame her, for it hardly seemed real to her either.

“Are you saying this in jest?” Daphne asked, her tone much more measured. Violet had called her two best friends at urgent notice to deliver the news.

“Look at me, Daphne,” Violet sighed. She had barely managed to get a wink of sleep the night before, and her skin looked even paler than usual—all the color having been drained out of it. “Does it appear to you that I am pulling some sort of a jest on the both of you?”

Daphne and Isadora exchanged a concerning glance. “No, it is not like her to do this. It must mean that…” Isadora’s mouth formed the shaped of an “O”. “… it must be true.”

Violet lowered the sheet of paper she had been clutching. The words written on it, details of the hurried arrangements for her wedding, seemed to blur before her eyes. She had read them many times after having received them just this morning.

“I am to marry the duke.” Her tone was weary. “In three days, no less.”

“Three days?” Daphne lost her composure for a split second but was quick to conceal it. “Oh… my. Well, it seems that Nicholas is wasting no time, is he?”

“He got a special license,” Violet explained, frustrated. “Apparently, he could not wait to make my life miserable.”

“Do not say it like that,” Isadora retorted immediately, reaching out to touch her friend’s hand.

“How else would you wish for me to put it?” she replied. “Never in my life did I imagine myself to be matched with him.”

Isadora nodded, frowning. “He does not seem to be the best match for you, considering all that we have heard about him. Are you certain there is nothing that you can do about it?”

Violet shook her head. She hated how helpless she was in the matter.

“Then maybe it would be best to look on the bright side.”

“There is no bright side,” Violet said through gritted teeth.

“I do not know if I agree with that. There is always a bright side to things. Maybe it does not have to be so miserable. If anything, it’s… well… you’re about to become a duchess.”

“I don’t want to be a duchess,” Violet muttered, dropping the paper onto the table. “No offense to you, Daphne, but the life that I envisioned for myself was much… quieter.”

Violet had wanted a calm, quiet life. A sweet, bookish husband. Not him. Anyone but him.

“None taken, my dear,” Daphne quipped back. “But all things considered, it is not as though Nicholas is the most terrible match. Much better than Lord Kembert, mind you.”

Violet shot her friend a glare. “You are only biased because the Duke is your husband’s mate.”

“No, no. I am not denying that he has a reputation. I have only met him a handful of times, so do not think this is me defending him, but even objectively…” Daphne paused, choosing her words carefully as to not offend.

“… well, I do not see how you would have made a happy match with Lord Kembert. That stern, humorless man would have you arranging libraries all day.”

“And what is so wrong with that?” Violet sighed. “It would have been wonderful.”

Isadora and Daphne exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter. Violet glared at them.

“Do not make light of my misery,” she chided, folding her arms across her chest. “I did not wish for this to happen. None of this is funny. The Duke of Bernight is nothing like the man I dreamed of. He is… arrogant, obstinate….”

“Handsome?” Daphne supplied innocently.

“He is too much!” Violet finished, throwing up her hands. “I cannot see how this marriage will work out. We do not seem to have much in common at all.”

“Well,” Daphne drawled, thoughtfully, “perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. Sometimes, your opposite can surprise you.”

“What are you trying to suggest? This is really no time to be playing devil’s advocate. You are meant to be my friend, not his,” Violet snapped.

“I just do not wish to see you so upset like this. Is it really so bad to offer an alternative perspective?” Daphne defended. “You cannot predict the future.”

“To be fair, Daphne, no one could have predicted this. And Violet,” Isadora’s voice dropped down to a conspiratorial whisper, “have you heard the latest rumor about your duke?”

My duke . The words sounded so out of place. “Tell me what it is now. Is he secretly married, or does he have a brood of children out of wedlock? What could make this scenario even worse?”

Daphne chuckled, leaning forward with interest. “I would like to hear this too.”

Isadora smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. “I have heard whispers… you know… they say he’s a vampire.”

Violet blinked “I beg your pardon?”

Oh, for heavens sake.

Daphne nearly choked on her tea. “A vampire? Really, Isadora?”

“I’m serious!” Isadora insisted “They say that’s why he’s so handsome and charming. He drinks the blood of young women to stay youthful.”

“That’s absurd,” Violet said quickly, but her mind betrayed her. She remembered their first encounter, how close he had been, the warmth of his breath against her neck, and the way a shiver had run down her spine.

Could it really be true?

Daphne noticed the faint flush creeping up Violet’s neck and burst into laughter. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’re actually considering it!”

“I am not!” Violet shot back, defensively. “It’s just… ridiculous. I know better than to believe in such nonsense.”

Isadora leaned closer. “I think there must be some truth to it. He’s dangerously charming, he has a way of making people do what he wants, and he’s never seen in broad daylight.”

“That’s not true,” Violet said defensively though she couldn’t quite recall seeing him outdoors in the daytime during her time at Daphne’s house party.

“And don’t forget how pale he is. Perfect complexion, no blemishes. Clearly unnatural.”

“You’re making this up.” Violet felt her face growing warmer by the second.

“Am I?” Isadora countered with a grin.

Daphne shook her head, still chuckling. “Stop scaring the poor girl. She has it bad enough already.”

Violet groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I don’t know why I bother talking to either of you.”

“Because we’re your friends,” Isadora said sweetly, patting her shoulder. “And because we make this whole ordeal far more entertaining.”

“Entertainment can wait. For now, I need a way to survive the next three days without losing my mind.”

Daphne smiled sympathetically. “I have no doubt that you will. You’re stronger than you think.”

“You say that because you are my friend. But I do not have a single clue as to how I am going to learn to adjust at the estate. Me, a duchess? The idea seems silly.”

“Why underestimate yourself like this?” Daphne’s tone softened, and she reached over to grab her friends hand. “It might be a learning process, but I am certain that you will get there in the end.”

Violet pinched her eyes shut. “You are quite the optimist.”

“Violet,” Daphne said gently, leaning forward, “you’re not alone in this. You’ll have people to guide you. And if anyone tries to tell you how to live your life, you send for me. I’ll handle them.”

“And me,” Isadora added with a grin. “Between the two of us, we’ll keep the wolves at bay.”

That drew a reluctant smile from Violet. At her lowest, at least she had the support of her friends. “I don’t know what I’d do without you both.”

“You’d be bored out of your mind,” Daphne quipped, grinning now.

“And possibly married to Lord Kembert,” Isadora added, wrinkling her nose in concern. “Which, frankly, would be a tragedy.”

The three of them burst into laughter. For a brief moment, Violet felt the weight on her shoulders lighten, her worries momentarily eclipsed.

Daphne smirked. “Oh, I think Nicholas would have something to say about that. You are his wife to be now.”

“He’d probably find you both exhausting,” Violet muttered.

“Well, he’s about to find out how exhausting you can be,” Daphne teased. “And I, for one, can’t wait to see it.”

“Does my plight amuse you?” Nicholas asked, his tone sharp. Across him sat his long-time friend, Duke Ambrose—unable to control the smirk from forming on his features.

Nicholas had asked to meet urgently at the Gentleman’s Club. Ambrose, however, had been tardy, giving the former a chance to down his miseries in his drink beforehand. He had already drained his glass of whiskey before Ambrose showed up, grinning.

“Not at all. If anything, I believe some congratulations are in order, are they not?” Ambrose grinned, “I heard about the wedding. Short notice, yes, but I think I can make it.”

Nicholas narrowed his eyes, setting his empty glass down with a sharp clink. “Spare me your mockery, Ambrose. I have no interest in congratulations, least of all from you.”

Ambrose chuckled, unbothered. “Mockery? Nonsense. I’m genuinely impressed with how quickly you have managed to secure yourself a match. Quite the expeditious young lad, are you not?”

“I had no other choice,” Nicholas shot back, his tone biting. “This was the only thing I could do to ensure the least amount of damage after that… incident.”

“Well, that’s certainly one way to describe getting caught in the gardens with an innocent young lady.”

Nicholas’ jaw tightened, his irritation palpable. “I mistook her for someone else. It wasn’t intentional.”

“Ah, of course,” Ambrose said, nodding sagely, though the amusement in his eyes betrayed him. “An innocent mistake. One that just so happens to have you standing at the altar within the week.”

“You’re not helping,” Nicholas said, glaring at his friend. “And if you’ve nothing useful to say, then you can keep your thoughts to yourself.”

“You wound me, Nicholas. I’m here to offer moral support.”

Moral support. Nicholas would have been amused if he was not so irked. “I do not know how I ended up in this situation.”

“You’re doing the honorable thing, Nicholas. Marrying her to protect her reputation—that’s more than most men would do in your position.” Ambrose’s tone softened slightly.

Nicholas sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “I could care less about honor. You know that. For me, this is about responsibility. She doesn’t deserve to have her life ruined because of my carelessness.”

“Quite mature of you.”

The sarcasm in his friend’s voice was not lost on Nicholas.

“ What ? You believe I am not capable of doing the right thing?”

“I did not expect you to marry her,” Ambrose replied bluntly. The two friends had an extremely candid relationship. “So it comes to me as a surprise, but a pleasant one, nonetheless.”

“I am flattered that you have so much faith in me,” Nicholas said through gritted teeth. “Really, I am.”

Ambrose laughed again, taking a swig from his drink. “You did the right thing. But one cannot help but wonder what the lady thinks about this entire thing. Was it a difficult conversation with her?”

Nicholas groaned internally. He did not like to think about it much. His visit to Nightingale Manor felt like a dizzying blur to him now in retrospect. For a moment, his mind flashed back to the reluctance on Violet’s face when he’d told her they were to marry.

“She agreed,” he said finally. “But it would be an exaggeration to say that she was happy about it.”

“That is not surprising to me,” Ambrose remarked.

“ Pardon? ”

“Violet Kingsman isn’t exactly the scandalous type. Quite the opposite in fact.”

Nicholas frowned, leaning forward slightly. “You seem to know a great deal about her.”

Ambrose shrugged. “Daphne’s mentioned her often enough. Violet and her friends—Isadora Morton, in particular—are quite close. They’ve been to Greymont several times. They all bonded together over their shared love of books.”

“Books,” Nicholas repeated. It occurred to him that he knew very little of the woman that he was to marry.

“Yes, she adores them. Daphne speaks highly of her. Says she’s kind, shy, and entirely too proper to ever involve herself in a scandalous rendezvous,” Ambrose continued, unfazed.

“Which makes this all the worse.”

“Or all the more curious,” Ambrose countered, raising an eyebrow. “Did you wonder why she was out there in the first place?”

“She said she needed air,” Nicholas replied, his tone defensive. “She was upset.”

Why do I even care to defend her? She is practically a stranger to me .

“Upset about what?” Ambrose pressed.

Nicholas’ gaze drifted to the amber liquid in his glass. “She didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.”

Ambrose sighed, setting his glass down with a faint clink. “You may want to get better acquainted with your bride, Nicholas. I think you underestimate her.”

“Underestimate how?” Nicholas was not sure what his friend was trying to imply.

“It means that shy doesn’t equal simple,” Ambrose replied. “She may not thrive in the scandalous circles you’re used to, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be a passive observer in this marriage.”

“I never stated that she would be.” Nicholas downed another large gulp of his whiskey. Truthfully, he had little clue of what to expect from her.

“Perhaps I’m overcomplicating this,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s a marriage of convenience, Ambrose. Not the first of its kind and certainly not the last. If I keep my distance, she’ll have her peace, her freedom. That should be good enough.”

Ambrose raised an eyebrow. “Do you honestly believe that’s all it takes to make a marriage work? Distance and indifference?”

“It’s a practical arrangement. Practicality doesn’t require sentiment.”

Ambrose let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, you are in for a surprise.”

“You are trying to scare me, I know.” Nicholas gritted his teeth. “I will make sure that the lady is well taken care of. What else is there to ask for?”

“Companionship, for one,” Ambrose shrugged.

“I am certain I can do without it,” Nicholas insisted. The idea of finding meaning through a romantic relationship was never one that had appealed to him much. “No thank you.”

“You say that now.”

“And I am certain that I shall be saying it later…”

“Oh? Certain, are you? Would you like to bet on it?”

A bet? His lips parted to reply, but for once, no words came. Instead, he faltered, his mind uncharacteristically blank.

That hesitation was all Ambrose needed. He burst into laughter, drawing curious glances from nearby patrons.

“Good Lord, Nicholas! You? Backing out of a bet? Have I lived to see this day?”

Nicholas clenched his jaw. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what lay ahead. And all because of one lady.