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CHAPTER FOUR

The days that followed had been a blur of activity.

Alistair had retrieved his mother’s diamond engagement ring, an antique passed down through generations of his family, and slid it on Violet’s left hand.

No resizing would be necessary, the ring seemed to have been made for her.

It was the most stunning piece of jewellery Violet had ever seen, and she made sure to tell Alistair that.

The following day Alistair and Violet had attended a charity luncheon, and later that evening, a ball.

At both occasions Violet made sure to show her engagement ring off, wanting to ensure as many people as possible saw it.

Both Alistair and Violet knew that word would spread fast among the ton.

Indeed, a mere two days after settling their engagement, invitations were being received at the Blackwell house for Duke Alistair Hawthorne and Lady Violet Blackwell.

The ton was abuzz with news of their engagement.

There were those who would claim to be completely unsurprised, after all, the Hawthorne’s and Blackwell’s had been family friends for decades, it was only natural.

Others who thought it was a strategic move, that Alistair sought to secure the Blackwell name, a move that would only add to his political aspirations.

Not one person doubted the validity of the engagement.

Not even Violet’s own brother, which had surprised her.

As for Violet, she felt relief. There had been no further slanderous letters, whether the duke’s name, solid and respected, protected her, or whether the letter sender had simply stopped, Violet wasn’t sure.

She was certain, however, that the more time she spent with Alistair, the more confused she was becoming.

At the charity luncheon, and then again at the ball, Alistair had been nothing but considerate, attuned to her every need.

His mere presence filled every room he walked into, commanding respect and giving off an air of reassurance.

The way his voice dropped low when he spoke only to her, made her forget the world around them and stirred in her emotions that both exhilarated and frightened her.

Violet knew Alistair’s reputation, the entire ton did, of that, she was sure.

After all, balls were for spreading gossip and securing matches, the dancing was nothing more than a ruse and distraction from the real reason people were in attendance.

The infamous rake, her best friend had called him, the debauched duke who had never been known for his restraint in matters of the heart, or in business.

Violet had overheard many stories over the years attending balls, of Alistair’s affairs with countless women, of the broken hearts he had supposedly left in his wake.

And yet, there was something about him that made her heart beat faster.

It wasn’t just his strikingly handsome features, although those were enough to turn many a young woman’s head.

It was his self-confidence, his compassion towards others, his unwavering strength and sense of duty.

Violet was drawn to him, if she were to be truthful with herself, she had always been drawn to him, despite all of the stories the ton had ingrained in her since childhood.

Violet had always tried to see beneath the surface.

While her contemporaries might see a cook, gardener, or other staff members, Violet saw Mary and Tom, a friendly married couple who had three grown children of their own.

Violet had never adhered to society’s rules regarding interactions between household staff and the families they worked for.

She simply saw people and took them at their worth, regardless of where society deemed they should sit.

At present, Violet found herself seated in her carriage, her driver expertly parking out the front of Alistair’s home. It was late afternoon and a slight crispness was just starting to settle in the air. Alistair’s butler greeted her warmly and showed her through to his study.

Alistair was sitting behind his desk, his broad shoulders relaxed as he scribbled something in his ledger.

He did not look up immediately, and Violet took the opportunity to observe him in silence.

His light hair framed his face in a way that seemed deliberately careless, his jaw was sharp, and his lips were drawn in concentration.

It was his lips that held her interest. She wondered what they would feel like pressed against her own.

“Lady Violet,” he said, his voice low and familiar. “I trust I have not kept you waiting too long?”

“Your Grace,” Violet gasped out, her face flushing at being caught in the act of studying his mouth. “No, of course not.” Alistair’s eyes locked with hers, his smile warm, inviting. Violet’s pulse quickened in response.

“I wanted to speak with you,” his voice more serious than she had expected. “While I am still no closer to discovering the identity of the letter sender, I have made enquiries which I believe will prove quite fruitful.”

“Thank you, Alistair, I really appreciate all of the help you are providing me and my family in this matter,” she said quietly, her voice softer than usual.

“You have done more for me than I ever could have hoped for.” Alistair’s gaze held hers in a way that made her heart flutter and Violet’s breath caught in her throat.

She could not help but wonder if Alistair felt this too, this strange pull between them.

“You know, Violet,” Alistair said, his voice low and thoughtful, “you seem to see beyond the reputation. Why?”

“I’m not sure I know what it is you are asking me Alistair.”

“You know the rumours about my past and my family, the whole ton knows of them,” he leaned forward slightly. “Yet you still allow yourself to be in my company. Knowing what it is you must know, why would you allow me such liberties?”

“Liberties?” Violet’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“It is hardly a liberty to allow a dear family friend to accompany me out and about, especially as we are now officially engaged. Besides,” Violet reached forward to lightly touch Alistair’s hand, “I do not judge a man by his reputation, Alistair. I have always believed that people are more than station or past actions.”

“You are a rare woman, Violet,” Alistair leaned back in his chair, studying her with an unreadable expression. The words hung between them, and for a moment, there was nothing but the steady ticking of the clock on the mantle. “Tell me, do you really believe that I am a man who can be trusted?”

The question was simple, innocent even, yet Violet paused to reflect before answering. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt the weight of the question. Everything that had passed between them these last few weeks lingered in the question.

Violet opened her mouth to answer Alistair, but the words stuck in her throat. Dare she risk everything, her reputation, her family’s honour, her heart? For Alistair, a man who might just be the rake the Ton claimed him to be?