Chapter 9
Nine
Despite his best efforts, Rhys could not stop staring at his wife.
He had spent much of the carriage ride actively avoiding doing so, but now that they were pulling into his residence, he found his gaze locked onto her as she looked out of the window and gaped at her new home.
There she is… finally.
Until that moment, Violet had been so determined to resist Rhys and any effort he made to bridge the large gap that existed between them.
She did not trust him. Damnation, she did not even seem to like him.
And no matter what he did or what he said, she dug in her heels like a petulant child, refusing to even give him a chance to prove to her that he was worth trusting.
Funnily enough, Rhys enjoyed this about her.
She was real in ways that so many women of the ton were not. She did not care about expectation or what people thought of her. All she cared about was Lucy, helping those in need, and everything else was of little importance to her.
Although, it might be nice if she treated me with a little respect.
That would come one day, Rhys was sure. Eventually, he knew that she would realize that he was not her enemy. But how long would it take? And how might he quicken the process? He did not expect a loving marriage, or even a happy one. But for the sake of Lucy, at least, it might be companionable.
“What do you think?” he asked as Violet looked out the window, still gaping.
“It is… bigger than I expected,” she said, her eyes wide as she took in the grand townhouse. “You live here alone?”
“Not anymore,” he said with a smile.
She looked at him and rolled her eyes before going back to the window.
“There are the staff, of course,” he continued, “who you will meet once we are inside. Apart from them, yes, it is just me…” He winced at those final words, because they served as a reminder of why he was doing this in the first place.
She said nothing else, still watching the residence as the carriage came to a steady stop.
“Rose will be arriving on the morrow,” he continued, feeling a need to speak.
It was slow going, but he was sure that the more he spoke to Violet, the more she would come to see that he was not what she thought.
“I have her room already prepared, and your own. As you are a duchess, you will have your own wing.”
“What of Lucy?” she asked.
“She will have her own room too. As far as the law is concerned, she is my daughter, and she will be treated as such.”
“The law?” She scoffed and looked at him. “And what about you? How do you see her?”
He levelled a serious gaze at her. “She is my daughter, Violet. That is how I see her.”
Violet narrowed her eyes as if in rebuke but did not say anything.
Once the carriage came to a stop, the driver opened the door for them both. Rhys was the first to climb out, at which point he turned and offered Violet his hand. She promptly ignored it and climbed down without his help.
Rhys shook his head at the gesture.
She liked to pretend that she wanted nothing to do with him, but he saw clearly how she had reacted when he mentioned the possibility of a kiss. It was said in jest, but her cheeks had colored, her breath had caught, and her eyes had flicked to his lips as if imagining it.
And while Rhys rather enjoyed seeing how it had undone her, he would be lying if her reaction had not had a similar effect on him.
Rhys could not deny his attraction to Violet.
There was just something about her that he found so…
desirable. A part of it was how combative she was; she spoke to him as few others ever would.
But he liked how caring she was, and how big her heart was.
She was real, honest and open about who she was, and that was refreshing in so many ways.
And that she is so attractive certainly does not help…
Rhys knew he needed to be careful. He would continue to be kind to Violet.
He would do as he promised when Lucy was nearby.
But he was just as determined that this marriage remained convenient only.
He had seen firsthand what so-called ‘love’ could do to a person, how it blinded them, made them act in ways that were not true to themselves.
And then, inevitably, tragedy would follow.
“Let us be about this.” Rhys strode past Violet and toward the front door.
It opened before he reached it, and Mr. Marrow appeared in the doorway. He was Rhys’ personal steward, the head of the household, and his smile was typically controlled when he saw Rhys approach.
“Your Grace,” he said with a short bow. “We are ready for you, as requested.”
“Thank you, Mr. Marrow,” Rhys said as he climbed the few steps to the front door. “I would expect nothing less.”
Rhys waited at the front door for Violet. When she reached him, he beckoned her forward. She hesitated as she eyed the entrance, nerves taking her in a way that was not typical. But then she firmed herself, stood tall, and stepped inside.
As Rhys had requested, every member of the household staff stood ready and waiting. From the cooks to the maids to the ground staff, they were all there. He walked to them, stopped, and turned as he looked at Violet.
“Your Grace, welcome to your new home,” he said to her. “I would like to take this moment to introduce you to the staff.” He swept his hand towards them. “Should you need anything at all, do not hesitate to ask. They are here to serve you and are happy to do so.”
Violet looked unsure. Again, that confidence which she had worn like armor since he first met her was nowhere in sight. And for the first time, Rhys appreciated just how intimidating this situation must have been for her.
“Is something wrong?” he asked her gently.
“No…” She firmed herself. “It is just, I am used to doing things for myself. I do not need…” She bit into her lip. “This is all unnecessary.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But you are now a duchess, and while you might not want to admit it, there will be times when you must act like it.”
A shadow passed behind her eyes, and he braced for her to disagree. But she was not the same woman as she had been in the carriage, and she looked suddenly small and even afraid.
Rhys sighed with pity. It was not his intent to intimidate her, nor did he wish to make her feel so uncomfortable. “You may all go,” he said to the staff with a wave of his hand. “That is enough for now.”
They did so quickly, save for Mr. Marrow.
“You might like to do things for yourself…” He approached Violet carefully. “But that does not mean you have to. Not anymore.”
“You speak as if it is a burden,” she said with some defiance.
“No one will force you to ask for help if you do not want it,” he assured her.
“If you are truly set in your ways, that is your decision.” He looked at her with honesty, praying she might believe him.
“However, if you do need anything at all, Mr. Marrow here is my personal steward. He will always be available to you.”
She studied Rhys as if searching for the lie, some trap. But he continued to look at her honestly, determined that she believed for once that he was not out to get her.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” Mr. Marrow greeted her.
“Oh.” She blinked. “Violet, please.”
Mr. Marrow frowned. “I… I would prefer not, Your Grace, if that is agreeable?”
Rhys watched her closely. While this was not a test, it suddenly felt like one. Would she refuse the title? Would she demand that she be called by her name? And would she ever accept what she now was?
“Violet!” a shrill cry suddenly ripped across the foyer, interrupting the moment.
Violet’s eyes widened with a bright smile, and she turned and laughed when she saw Lucy sprinting across the foyer and straight towards her.
Her hair was freshly trimmed, and her dress was far finer than anything she might have worn before in her life, but it was undoubtedly that same little girl who he had rescued from the orphanage.
Now that she has been cleaned up, she looks even more like Eleanor…
Rhys’ chest tightened with regret and a pang of sadness as he watched Violet fall to her knees and embrace Lucy in a tight hug.
“Look at you,” Lucy laughed as she held her. “I hardly recognized you.”
“They made me,” Lucy said as if annoyed.
Violet laughed further and pulled away so that she could better look at the little girl. “How are you? Are they treating you well?”
“We are,” Rhys said, choosing that moment to step in. He then dropped to one knee so that he could look Lucy in the eyes. “But if you need anything, Lucy, please tell me. Whatever you need, you will have it.” He smiled warmly, sure that she would appreciate it.
The moment that Rhys dropped to his knees, Lucy gasped and hurried around Violet. She then pressed her face into Violet’s body as if she meant to hide.
Rhys grimaced, another pang in his chest, truly heartbroken that his mere presence might send such fear and distrust through the child.
“Lucy, there is no need for that,” Violet said, which surprised Rhys. “His Grace… I mean, Rhys… is only trying to help.”
Lucy said nothing, still hiding behind Violet.
Violet looked apologetically at Rhys, which again surprised him. As much as she wanted to distrust him, there was obviously a part of her that believed he was trying to do the right thing.
He offered her a grateful smile as he stood.
“It is fine,” he assured her, even if it still hurt. “Besides…” He was sure to look right at Violet as he spoke. “Trust is not something that is expected, but that is earned. And now that Lucy and you are here, I intend to earn it.”
Violet noted the words, she seemed to understand the meaning, and for once she did not dismiss him. “I look forward to it.”
Rhys wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the morning, even the day, with Lucy. She was clearly terrified of him, she obviously had no desire to get to know him, but that needed to change. However, he would not force her to be in his presence.