Chapter 8
Eight
Violet presented herself in the small church with grace, confidence, and a staunch determination to approach the ceremony as little more than a business transaction.
She would not smile as if overtaken with joy.
She would not scowl as if furious that she was being forced into such a circumstance as this.
And she would certainly not give the duke anything to use against her in the future.
So, when she appeared at the end of the aisle, and then started down its length to the altar, she walked with a pronounced chin, straight shoulders, and an emotionless expression that did well to hide what she was truly thinking.
That expression almost faltered when she saw the duke.
It was a slight frustration that he was so handsome.
A perfect face—those gray eyes that were not menacing or arrogant, but kinder than they ought to have been, if always a little sad.
He watched her as she came; he too resisted the urge to smile or give anything away, but the look he held her in was one of relief as well as regret.
At least that was how she chose to read it.
How much easier things would have been if he was a monster. Or if he was purposefully cruel, arrogant, and mean-spirited. If he was exactly what Violet expected, such a state might have made things troublesome going forward, but at least she would know where she stood.
But the duke… he was a mystery. Why did he want to save Lucy? What did he hope to gain? And how did Violet factor into it all?
Time will tell, I am sure. Until it does, I must be careful.
She reached the end of the altar and hardly bothered to look at the duke.
That was partly because she wanted him to know that she was not there for him, and partly because she did not like how much she enjoyed looking at him.
It made her heart flutter. It made her skin tingle.
It made her thoughts more confused than they needed to be.
The church was not crowded, nor was it decorated to suggest a marriage ceremony was taking place. It was a simple affair, further highlighting the strict nature of this arrangement.
A marriage of convenience… even if they might have to pretend in front of Lucy that this was not the case. That would undoubtedly be awkward, but also necessary. And Violet was certain that she would have no difficulty in pretending while not mistaking her feelings.
And the duke better be the same.
When the priest started reading the vows, Violet looked past the duke, refusing to meet his eyes.
When the priest asked the duke to present the ring and place it on her finger, Violet offered her hand but still did not look directly at the duke. Even his touch, gentle and careful, was promptly ignored.
And when the priest announced them man and wife, Violet turned to face the small crowd; she did not smile, she did not pout. She offered them nothing.
“And it is done.” The duke stepped in beside her and rested a hand on the small of her back. She caught her breath and turned rigid.
“What are you doing?”
“I do not expect you to fall over yourself in an effort to present an air of romance and adoration,” he said quietly, so that only she might hear him. “But the least you can do is pretend not to hate me.”
Violet almost said that she did not hate him.
It would have been the truth, too. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to learn the truth of his actions, so that she could find a reason for that hate. But so far, he had given her nothing, which made her antipathy that much more difficult to stomach.
“I am here, am I not?” she said instead, resisting the urge to step forward so that his hand left her back. “That ought to be enough.”
“I suppose that if anyone asks me the reason for your dour mood, I will tell them it was something that you ate.” He smiled, and she wondered if it was for the comment, or for those few who watched them from the pews. “That you are here at all is a miracle—proof of your love for me.”
“I am here for Lucy,” she said. “That is all.”
“As am I,” he reminded her, his smile dropping. “And do not forget that.”
She looked up at him, a frown passing her brow. He was so determined for her to believe that Lucy was the only one he cared about; so determined that she very nearly believed him. He was certainly committed to that mode of explanation.
No… there must be something else. There has to be.
“There will be no breakfast,” he continued, his voice still low. “All things considered, I think it is best if we return to my residence at once. Lucy will be there once we arrive, so it is best that we do not keep her waiting.”
“I agree. Let us not waste time.” With that, Violet stepped forward and away from the altar. Unable to resist, she turned back and raised an eyebrow at the duke, as if hurrying him along.
The duke shook his head, but he did not appear angry. If anything, amusement was written on his face, as if he enjoyed Violet’s cantankerous nature. But then he swept toward her, and while she thought he was going to try and take her arm, he stepped around her and strode down the aisle.
Violet exhaled sharply through her nose, hoisted up the skirt of her gown, and hurried after him.
On either side of the aisle stood a few random guests, all appearing somewhat confused by the manner of the newlyweds’ exit.
Violet ignored them, as they were not her concern.
Lucy was the person who mattered… as well as the duke.
A man she did not know, did not trust, and had to be careful around from here on out.
His mask will slip soon, I am sure of it. And I will be ready when it does.
The carriage ride to the duke’s residence began in silence.
It was a state of being that Violet ought to have been glad for, but which she found strangely awkward. Whatever she thought of the duke, she had to admit that those few times they had spoken, there was rarely a dull moment to be found.
Indeed, sitting across from him, she was glad that the duke looked out of the window, as it allowed her to study him closely. She stared at him, her eyes narrowed, and her mind turning as it searched for answers.
What is he thinking about? Why has he not said anything?
It must have been part of his plan. Now that he had her, she was trapped in a world that she did not know. Forced to live in his townhouse, she would become utterly and completely reliant on him. He owned her, he controlled her, and he must have been aware of the fact.
So, he sat in silence, letting her stew, likely waiting for her to ask what came next. Permission, is what she would require, not to mention instructions and the showing of how she was to behave. Oh yes, he was playing a game, and he was winning.
I will not ask permission for anything. If he thinks that he owns me—
“I suppose now is a good time to speak of what is to come,” he cut over her inner ramblings and machinations.
He gave a deep sigh as he continued to look out of the window, and then he turned to her.
“Perhaps we ought to have discussed such things earlier, but with all that was left for me to arrange…” He shrugged. “Time was not our friend.”
“What is to come?” She kept her eyes narrowed. “And what does that mean, exactly?”
“You are a duchess, Violet—I may call you Violet, yes? I can refer to you as Her Grace, if you like.” He exhaled sharply with amusement. “Somehow, I doubt you would like such a thing.”
“I do not care what you call me.”
“Violet then,” he said, ignoring her tone. “And you may call me Rhys.”
“Is that an order?”
He frowned and tilted his head. “Merely a suggestion. Call me what you wish, for I do not care. The point is that your life has just changed in ways that I doubt you realize and are yet to comprehend. We should discuss what is expected.”
“I expect nothing,” Violet said, eyes still narrowed as she leaned back in the carriage seat. “Nor do I intend to change who I am or how I hold myself. I am here for Lucy, and that is all.”
“I know that,” he sighed. “I am glad that she is so important to you. I will do everything that I can for her, and for you. That is my chief concern. But the point remains, you are now a duchess, and that means something.”
“Not to me.”
She was being purposefully argumentative, testing the waters because she was certain that at any moment, the duke—or Rhys, as he wanted to be called—would snap and put her in her place. That was who he was at his core, and that was who she expected to roar to the surface when forced to do so.
Despite her assumptions, that anger did not come.
“You truly are one of a kind, Violet.” He continued to frown, but it was with humor. “Most young women, especially those who were in a position as you were, would be thrilled for this change in their affairs. More than that, they would be desperate to do whatever they must not to ruin it.”
“I am not most young women,” she said. “Nor do I care if I ruin anything. I did not marry you because I yearned to be a duchess. I married you—”
“Because you had no other choice,” he cut her off.
“It might be nice to act as if you did this for Lucy only. Oh, and I am certain it makes you feel so warm and cozy on the inside. But do not forget, your situation was dire—one of destitution—and had I not come along, you would be living on the street right now.”
“So, I owe you? Is that it? Should I prostrate myself before you in gratitude? I knew you wanted something. I knew that all of this was just so you could hold what you did over my head.”
“Not at all,” he said simply. “I am merely reminding you of the facts. This self-righteous moniker you have attached to yourself is rather tiresome, as is your obvious distrust of me.”
“I will trust you when you give me a reason to do so. I will happily point out that you have not done so yet. Nor do I think you ever will.”
He exhaled as if tired. “Very well then, have it your way. I am offering you help, Violet. The adjustment to the life of a duchess is not easy, and it will do you well to have someone to guide you. But if you do not want it, I will not force the issue. Go it alone, or not at all. The choice is your own.”
“I…” Violet was caught by surprise at how gracious he was being. It must be a trap… I refuse to believe that he is so good and kind. There is no way. “I am here for Lucy,” she repeated stubbornly. “Anything outside of that is white noise and not my concern.”
“Is that right?”
“It is.”
He said nothing at first. Watching her scowl at him, he wore a knowing smirk, apparently amused by how she behaved. It infuriated her further! Again, if only he might rise to anger and reveal himself as she had expected from the beginning, it would have made all of this a lot easier.
Am I wrong? Is he really what he says…
Violet faltered for a moment, very nearly letting down her guard because she knew that she was being completely unreasonable. That was until Rhys spoke once more.
“And what of when we spend time with Lucy?” he asked, still with that smirk.
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, as you demanded of me, when we are around Lucy, we are to act as a happily married couple, are we not?” Her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying, and he continued to look rather pleased.
“Now, I know that I will not struggle with such a thing. As a duke, most of my life has been spent feigning joy and enthusiasm for situations and circumstances that I do not wish to be party to. But for you…” He shrugged.
“I do wonder if you might give us away.”
“I…” Violet’s heart skipped a beat. “I will be fine.”
“Are you sure?” he asked her. “I think back to every conversation we have had, and I cannot recall one that did not proceed with some amount of hostility. I do wonder if you have it in you to pretend otherwise.”
“I will be fine,” she repeated sharply. He raised an eyebrow, and she grimaced. “When Lucy is with us, I will be sure to treat you…” She forced a smile. “I will treat you amicably.”
“Amicably? I treat the staff amicably, Violet. As my wife, I would expect more.”
“What do you mean?” She fidgeted nervously in her seat, and when she tried to meet his eyes, she was forced to look away. He was far too proud of himself, eager at having upset her. And despite her efforts to spurn him, she hated how a single look could undo her so easily.
“Oh, a kind word,” he said simply. “A smile, here and there. Although, if a moment arrives where I am forced to kiss you—”
“Why would you do that?” she cut him off. “When would such a moment ever arise?”
He shrugged. “I cannot see the future. But I need to know, if I do need to do such a thing, that you will not push me away. Such an action might ruin the illusion completely.”
Violet’s heart started to race. Rhys looked plainly at her, his eyes flicking to her lips as if he might just test his words then and there. And Violet, wanting to hate the idea, wanting to warn him off the gesture, found that her will to do so was not nearly so strong.
Her eyes flicked to his lips. Her own lips tingled. She dared to imagine what a kiss like that might feel like, admitting with some regret that it would not be nearly so bad as was possible. His lips… those big hands on her waist… perhaps one kiss would not ruin everything?
That was when she saw him smirk, a chuckle escaping his lips, and she realized what had happened.
“You are teasing me,” she said, her face dropping.
“I am,” he said with amusement. “Or perhaps testing you. Do not worry, Violet, I doubt a moment will come when I will need to kiss you. Although, it is nice to know that you are not entirely against such a thing.” He leaned back, and he could not have looked prouder.
“I am,” she snapped and scowled. “And if you dare try, you will regret it.”
“If you say so,” he laughed. “Whatever you must tell yourself.”
The remainder of the trip to Rhys’ home was completed under the cloud of Violet’s glare.
She held it on Rhys, needing him to know that she was not just angry with him, but that she wanted nothing to do with what he had suggested.
At least that was what she told herself.
Deep down, in those places that Violet dared not visit, there was a part of her that had wondered about that kiss… that had even yearned for it. That terrified her; more than the marriage, more than the trap she was sure she had walked into… more than anything.
I need to be alert. I need to be watchful. Most of all, I need to ensure that Rhys does not try anything like that.