Page 28 of A Wicked Duke's Redemption
Nathanial Jones bowed. “Welcome home, Your Grace.”
Leo nodded curtly at the butler. The staff all stood attentively, their faces ranging from blank to carefully polite. Leo wondered when the gossip would begin. Were they already anticipating the death of his new young wife? Leo clenched his jaw. Marriage was enough of an ordeal for the day, and he wanted nothing more than to retreat to his study and forget everyone and everything for the rest of the evening.
“Violet,” Leo said, “this is my housekeeper, Mrs. Gunderson.”
Mrs. Gunderson took a step forward and curtsied. Her smile, at least, was genuine. Leo knew, too, that Mrs. Gunderson would be kind to his new bride. Already, she had prepared quarters for Violet, placed directly beside his own. Violet would appreciate that. Any woman would appreciate that.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace,” Mrs. Gunderson said.
Violet blinked at the woman, looking startled. It was such a sudden change from her fearful, meek glances that Leo nearly laughed. “Oh. That is—I mean, it is a pleasure. The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Gunderson.”
Violet looked uncomfortable, as if she was uncertain how her response would be received. She would need to learn proper behavior to be the Duchess of Farnham, but that was to be expected, given that—despite her somewhat impressive pedigree—she had only ever lived in the countryside and away from the ton.
“Your quarters are prepared for you.” Mrs. Gunderson said. “Your possessions will arrive shortly. If there is anything which you wish to have changed about the rooms, you need only ask, Your Grace, and I will happily see it done.”
“That is very kind of you,” Violet replied.
Leo clasped his hands behind his back. He was beginning to feel like the observer to some well-rehearsed play. Did he imagine that his staff all stared at him? Surely, that was an irrational feeling. They would be looking at the new Duchess of Farnham rather than him.
“We have also prepared food for you,” Mrs. Gunderson said. “I am certain that you are famished, Your Grace.”
Leo had not considered that. “Well,” he said, “I shall leave my lady in your capable hands, Mrs. Gunderson.”
Leo dropped his arm, and Violet looked at him with wide eyes. He had a difficult time determining whether she looked more relieved or startled that he would be gone.
“Very well, Your Grace,” Mrs. Gunderson said.
Leo clenched his jaw and turned away. As he left, he sensed Violet staring after him. He felt like a coward for hiding in his study and abandoning his bride, but it seemed like the most graceful thing he could do at the moment. Leo entered his study and slammed the door shut behind him. He pressed his back against the door and scowled at the empty space.
Marrying Violet Brewer was the biggest mistake he had ever made in his life.
Chapter 14
True to his word, His Grace did not visit her on their wedding night. Violet had eaten her fill of the fruit, cold meats, cheese, and delicate pastries laid out for her. She had drank the offered tokaji, the sweetest wine she had ever tasted in her life, and she had wandered through her rooms after Mrs. Gunderson left her.
When she lived in the hunting lodge with her parents, Violet only had a single room to herself. In the duke’s manor, she was afforded a set of rooms all to herself, large enough that Violet suspected the hunting lodge could fit in them twice.
She lay in bed, unable to sleep and suspecting that His Grace might still arrive in the night. The next morning, Violet awakened to Emma, her assigned lady’s maid, who dressed her and arranged her hair. Violet swallowed the lump that rose in her throat as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.
While Violet kept her hair in a simple, hastily done chignon most mornings, Emma spent considerably more care in curling Violet’s hair and pinning it up, embellishing her red tresses with delicate pink flowers. “Is the style to your liking, Your Grace?” Emma asked.
Emma looked into the mirror. She was a pretty girl with blue eyes and dark hair. Violet bit the inside of her cheek, eyeing the difference between the two of them. While Emma wore a plain, cotton-spun gown, Violet wore a fine pale blue gown with a gold silk sash. The gown did not quite fit, but Mrs. Gunderson had assured Violet that a seamstress would be summoned to create a wardrobe worthy of Violet’s new status.
Violet could not decide how she felt about that. She supposed that she ought to be relieved to have restored her family’s fallen status. How better could have parents have done than having their daughter wed a duke? It all made her feel like a girl playing the role of a fine lady, though. Violet kept waiting to learn that His Grace had only wed her as a jest.
“My hair is lovely,” Violet said. “Thank you.”
Emma smiled. She stepped back and curtsied, and Violet resisted the urge to fidget with the fabric of her dress. “Would you like breakfast in your rooms?” Emma asked. “Or in the dining hall? Mrs. Gunderson requested that I ask after your comfort.”
That was kind. “I would prefer to take breakfast in my rooms,” Violet replied, “unless His Grace wishes otherwise.”
“If he does, Mrs. Gunderson did not say so. I shall return directly, Your Grace.”
Emma curtsied, and Violet watched the lady’s maid leave with growing trepidation. Once the young woman was gone, Violet let out a breath of air. His Grace was seemingly not eager to take breakfast with her. How was she to feel about that?
She sighed, trying to sort through all the conflicting feelings. Violet thought about the masked stranger at the Harvest Dance. She wondered where she might be at that very moment if she had pressed herself more insistently against Sir Gawain and if she had asked him to spirit her away to a darkened alley.
Would she have still wed the Duke of Farnham, or would that mysterious stranger have revealed that he adored her as she did him? Violet slowly stood. The fine fabric fell like water over her. She wondered whose gown this had been and where it had come from.
