Chapter 18
Eighteen
There was no need to point out that Rhys was stubborn.
That was as much a part of him as his hair and his skin, and he doubted that it would change anytime soon.
This stubbornness could be most seen in his refusal to accept any feelings that he might have had for Violet, always insisting that what he did was for the sake of Lucy.
However, just because he was stubborn did not mean that he was stupid. And if he wanted Lucy to be happy, it meant that he had to ensure that Violet was the same.
Also… it made him feel good, knowing that he was doing a good thing for Violet, someone whom he was coming to care about.
I care for her as a friend, a companion… someone who wants a peaceful household to exist. That is all.
For that reason, he began to do as Rose had suggested. He would offer Violet help in the guise of small, seemingly insignificant gestures. Nothing elaborate. Nothing that would raise questions. Merely the actions of a man who was paying attention.
It started the following morning when they broke their fast together. It was not a common practice, as Rhys was often busy dealing with estate matters, so he could not always join Violet and Rose and Lucy. But he had a reason for wanting to do so on that morning.
“How are the ball preparations going?” he asked once he sat down.
“Oh, they are going well…” Violet said the words as if they had weight to them, and she let her shoulders drop to show how exhausted she was.
“Sounds convincing,” Rhys noted.
She chuckled. “It is a lot more work than I assumed it would be, though I am enjoying it,” she hurried to explain. “And the closer the ball comes, the more I agree with you. Hopefully, it will go some way towards lessening the hate that the ton feels for me.”
“They do not hate you, Violet,” Rhys said. “Do not think such a thing.”
“Oh, perhaps not hate,” she agreed. “But they certainly judge me and think that I somehow tricked my way into this marriage.” She winced.
Rhys flinched as if her words had struck him across the face.
He had wrestled for some time with the suggestion of the seasonal ball, unsure if it was right, while certain that it was necessary.
Weeks later he could still remember the way that Violet had been spoken to at that supper, and while she might have dismissed it as something that did not bother her, he knew differently.
The irony was that Rhys cared not what other people thought. Let them judge. Let them mock. It mattered not to him. What did matter, and what he refused to allow to happen again, was the vile way that his wife had been spoken about.
Hopefully, the ball would show his peers that Violet was as good as they were, that she belonged, and that she was not to be looked down on because of her birth.
“That will change,” he assured her. “I promise you.”
Her smile was weak but hopeful. “I suppose we shall see—Lucy, do not use your hands,” she pivoted from the conversation as she directed her gaze across the table at Lucy. The little girl was indeed using her hands to eat her eggs.
Lucy smiled mischievously. “I… it is easier. And more fun.”
“Your knife and fork, please.” Violet gestured to her own. “Like this.”
“Here, allow me…” Rhys stood up quickly and walked to where Lucy sat. There, he knelt beside her and picked up her knife and fork. She leaned back slightly, but she did not cower. “Would you like some help?” he asked her.
It took her a moment to respond, as if she was not sure what she wanted. But Rhys had spent several weeks working on getting closer to Lucy, and small gestures like this were effective.
She is much like Violet in that way.
“Y—yes,” Lucy said carefully. “The eggs, they are messy.”
Rhys laughed as he cut into them and scooped some up on his fork. “Truthfully, I would prefer to use my hands also. Maybe another time, when Violet is not looking,” he added with a wink as he offered her the forkful of eggs.
Lucy giggled and then leaned forward, and Rhys gently put the eggs into her mouth.
He felt both Violet and Rose watching him, just as he felt Violet’s pride. Yes, he wanted to do right by Lucy, but it helped that it felt good… that Violet saw it and appreciated it.
Can good be done without that need for satisfaction? And does it matter?
“Speaking of the ball…” Rhys continued as he plied another forkful of eggs for Lucy. “I was going over some of the arrangements earlier; the list of costs you left for me to read through.”
“Oh?” Violet asked. “Is something the matter?”
“I admit, I was a little confused…” He felt Rose watching him, as if she knew what he was about to say. “A few days ago, you mentioned the floral company you wished to hire. His Majesty’s Bouquets. I noticed you have reached out to another?”
Violet blinked as if surprised. “I did… but for good reason. I decided for a cheaper option. This ball is already costing so much, and I did not wish to burden you with so many expenses.”
“What of the quality?” Rhys asked. “Is it as good? I doubt it, if they are cheaper.”
“Well, no, they are not quite as good. But really, it does not matter. I do not mind.”
“But I do.” Rhys offered Lucy another forkful of eggs, and she eagerly took it. “You want the best, and you will have the best, Violet. No expense is too large, as long as you are happy.” He looked pointedly at her. “Now, would you prefer to use His Majesty’s Bouquets?”
Violet considered him with what was not quite a smile, and not quite a frown. It was as if she was not entirely sure what she was hearing, and was yet to decide how she felt about it. “I would…”
“Then it is done,” he said.
Out of the corner of his eye, Rhys saw Rose nodding along.
Rhys finished helping Lucy and went back to his seat, and he did not fail to notice how Violet looked at him. The confusion was gone, and he had no doubt that his small gesture was greatly appreciated.
It helped, too, that it made him feel so good.
Things went on that way. While Rhys was sure not to interfere or overstep, as this was Violet’s thing, he was always looking for ways to help where he could, always trying to show her that he paid attention, and that she could rely on him.
The following day, Rhys overheard her complaining to Rose about the catering.
A small thing, but Violet was frustrated by the fact that another lord had hired the same service that she wished to use.
Seeing his chance, Rhys visited that lord and all but demanded that he relinquish his claim on them, which he did.
A few days later, Rhys noticed how worn and tired Violet was becoming. She had poured herself fully into the preparations for the ball, and as she was also spending her time watching over Lucy; it was taking its toll on her.
“I have had a thought,” he told her that afternoon. She was in the nursery, both watching Lucy and dealing with the invitations that she insisted on writing herself.
“Oh…” She looked up, her eyes red and swollen. “Rhys, I did not hear you come in.”
“It is no wonder,” he told her. “You have stretched yourself thin, Violet. All this work, it is a wonder you are able to stand on your own two feet.”
“I am fine,” she said, forcing a determined scowl. “Believe me when I tell you that this is nothing. If you knew what I used to deal with after my father passed away…” She scoffed. “I can do this with one eye closed.”
“But you should not have to,” he said gently. “And I am not suggesting that you ask for help. I know you would never do that,” he said with a teasing grin. “I was merely going to suggest that I watch over Lucy.”
She blinked. “You… when?”
“In the afternoons,” he told her. “I have already taken the liberty of moving around some things so that my estate affairs no longer take up so much of my time. Just for now, until this ball is organized. That will give you the afternoons to focus, without having to worry about Lucy.”
“I…” She hesitated, unsure, even afraid. “You do not have to do that. Truly, there is no need. I am fine.”
“I am not doubting you,” he said gently. “But it is not such a bad thing to accept help when offered.” He smiled at her, and she still looked unsure. “Shall we ask Lucy?”
“Ask her what?”
Lucy was playing in the corner with her toys, and Rhys turned to face her. “Lucy, would you like to go for a walk through the garden? Just you and me?”
Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise and a hint of worry. She looked at Violet as if for an answer, but Violet gave her nothing. Slowly, she scrunched her face, took some time to consider, and then allowed a smile.
“A walk?” she said. “You and… and me?”
“If you would like to?” He held out his hand for her to take. “Just to give Violet some time to herself. Come now…” He kept his hands extended, and he breathed a sigh of relief when she took it.
“We will be back shortly,” he told Violet as he led Lucy across the room. “And if you have a nap…” he winked, “I will not tell anyone.”
“Thank you,” Violet said with a deep sigh, as if a weight was falling from her shoulders.
“Do not mention it.”
He smiled at her, and then led Lucy from the room. As they went, he felt Violet watching him, and he felt her gratitude. They were all small gestures, nothing fancy or elaborate, but they were making a huge difference.
It felt good to do the right thing. It felt good to help people. And most of all, it felt good to see Violet so happy. That was a sensation that Rhys clung to, and one he hoped did not leave him anytime soon.
The days were starting to blur.
Violet moved through them like a woman possessed, unable and unwilling to stop until everything was finished and accounted for. When she had agreed to host the ball, she had known that it would be a gargantuan task to undertake, but she had not considered just how much work there would be to do.
It was the little things that got to her the most.
When the flower arraignments arrived, it was not just a matter of telling the staff where they were to be placed. Oh no, she had to watch over it herself, constantly making small adjustments so that they were perfect.