Chapter 14 #2
She said nothing as the entrees were served. She said nothing as the chatter began around her. And she said nothing as the guests spoke around her, happy to speak with Rhys, but never once asking her a question.
What am I doing here?
In truth, she ought to have been glad that they chose to ignore her.
At least that way, she could sit in silence and pretend that she was somewhere else.
The lords and ladies around her so clearly thought so little of her and that she did not belong.
Was it not better to be ignored than to be mocked and made fun of?
Sadly, that was a truth that she was soon to learn the hard way.
It was towards the end of the evening, after the wine had flowed for well over an hour, that the lord across from Violet finally spoke to her.
She did not know his name, but he was flushed in the cheeks, his eyes were hollow pits, and he spoke in a way that made it sound as if his voice had not broken when he came of age.
“Your Grace,” he began as he locked his eyes onto her. “You have been rather silent all evening.”
“Oh.” She blinked in surprise. “I… I do not mean to be.”
“Nothing to say?” he asked with an amused chuckle. “I had hoped that you might at least be interesting.” More laughter. “After all, that might explain a few things.”
Beside her, Violet sensed Rhys stiffen.
“Reginald…” The lord’s wife touched him on the arm as if to warn him away from his point.
“Oh, I am merely joking,” the drunken lord chuckled as he had another sip of wine. “We are all friends, no? As we are all undoubtedly curious about this marriage. Your Grace!” He barked at Rhys. “You surprised us all with your wedding announcement.”
Rhys said nothing. Rather, he glared in warning at the lord.
“I mean, a gentlewoman,” the lord continued drunkenly.
“Not completely unheard of, but most odd. Especially for a duke!” He looked around the table for support; thankfully, everyone else seemed to accept that this was one conversation better to avoid.
“It must be nice, I would expect. Surely, you would have never dreamed…” He blinked and shook his head.
“What were you saying earlier, Margaret?” He looked at his wife.
She widened her eyes at him. “Nothing, Reginald. You have had too much wine.”
“Oh yes!” he laughed. “That is right. Something about debts…” He pushed his lips together. “Were you not saying that Her Grace was in horrible debt, paid for by His Grace upon marriage. At least we know what she got out of it. Many things I am sure,” he chuckled.
Violet was mortified.
Oh, how she wanted to say something sharp and cutting. How she yearned to stand up for herself and put the lord in his place. But she hesitated, frozen to the spot, keenly aware of how powerless she was…
“Is that right, Your Grace?” he continued. “Or is it merely rumor which—”
“That is enough!” Rhys barked at the drunken lord.
It was done loudly, enough that the lord started in surprise, as well as having the rest of the table cowering back as if they had each been slapped.
The mood in the dining room shifted dramatically as the conversations ceased; held breaths, wide eyes, a sense that something or someone was about to explode.
“You are drunk, Lord Stokesworth, so I am willing to pass off your ill-given comments as a consequence of you not being able to hold your liquor. And be glad that I am.” He leveled a gaze so cold at the drunken lord that Violet shuddered.
“Y—Your Grace,” he stammered. “I did not mean—”
“As for the rest of you,” Rhys growled as he swept his rueful gaze over the table, making sure that each guest saw it.
“I am going to say this once and once only. In the future, should anyone question my marriage, be sure to repeat what I tell you all now.” Another glare, letting the silence build.
“My marriage is not a source of gossip. It is not a thing that should bring levity or questions. What it is, is a perfectly normal and common arrangement, one done between two people who want nothing more than to spend the rest of their lives together. There were no deals. There were no debts. There was certainly no entrapment. Violet is my wife, a duchess of the ton, and that I care for her should be enough for each of you to treat her with the same respect that you would afford me. Do I make myself clear?” He snarled the last part.
In response, those around the table muttered their apologies, but none were able to look Rhys in the eyes as they did.
As for Violet? She stared in bewilderment at her husband.
It might have been easy for her to dismiss his comments as a simple desire to protect his own reputation, because what people said of her was reflected on him. And as their marriage was one of convenience, there was every reason that she ought to have assumed that was why he said what he did.
But she looked closely at Rhys. She saw his anger, just as she felt his need to protect her.
It was more than words. It was more than embarrassment or pride.
It was, in her opinion, proof that he cared for her, that he wanted to protect her, and that there was little he would not do to prove that he would.
Violet smiled as she came to realize this. It stood in stark contrast with the unabashed looks of horror and shame on the faces of those around the table, but she did not care. She smiled so that her husband saw it, and she smiled so that he might feel how grateful she was.
This marriage—one started for convenience—suddenly felt like so much more. And stranger still, Violet did not mind that one little bit.
Once supper had ended, she and Rhys did not stay for drinks. They were quick to leave, led by Rhys, who strode from the dining room as if fleeing a crime scene.
Violet hurried in beside him, thinking of taking him by the arm but resisting that urge. He visibly trembled, and he was red in the face.
“You did not have to do that,” she said to him as they crossed the foyer. “Truly, there was no need.”
He sneered. “I will not have my wife spoken to like that.”
She hesitated. “I suppose it would have reflected poorly on you.”
At the door, Rhys stopped suddenly. Then he turned and looked at her as if her words had upset him.
“That has nothing to do with…” He clenched his jaw and bit back his rage.
“Violet, when I married you, it was not just Lucy who I swore to protect. You are my wife. I care for you, and I will do anything I can to make sure that you feel safe. That is why I said what I did.”
Again, Violet smiled. It came from her chest; her heart rising from her throat and spreading across her face so that she wondered if she glowed. “Thank you, Rhys. For… well, for everything.”
“Of course,” he said, sighing with relief. “Now, shall we leave this place? It is funny that I worried about what you might say, when I was the one who…” He shook his head to himself. “Perhaps we are more alike than I care to admit.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” he said, allowing a soft smile. “Not at all.”