“None taken, my dear,” Daphne quipped back. “But all things considered, it is not as though Nicholas is the most terrible match. Much better than Lord Kembert, mind you.”
Violet shot her friend a glare. “You are only biased because the Duke is your husband’s mate.”
“No, no. I am not denying that he has a reputation. I have only met him a handful of times, so do not think this is me defending him, but even objectively…” Daphne paused, choosing her words carefully as to not offend. “… well, I do not see how you wouldhave made a happy match with Lord Kembert. That stern, humorless man would have you arranging libraries all day.”
“And what is sowrongwith that?” Violet sighed. “It would have been wonderful.”
Isadora and Daphne exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter. Violet glared at them.
“Do not make light of my misery,” she chided, folding her arms across her chest. “I did not wish for this to happen. None of this is funny. The Duke of Bernight is nothing like the man I dreamed of. He is…arrogant, obstinate….”
“Handsome?” Daphne supplied innocently.
“He is too much!” Violet finished, throwing up her hands. “I cannot see how this marriage will work out. We do not seem to have much in common at all.”
“Well,” Daphne drawled, thoughtfully, “perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. Sometimes, your opposite can surprise you.”
“What are you trying to suggest? This is really no time to be playing devil’s advocate. You are meant to bemyfriend, not his,” Violet snapped.
“I just do not wish to see you so upset like this. Is it really so bad to offer an alternative perspective?” Daphne defended. “You cannot predict the future.”
“To be fair, Daphne, no onecould have predicted this. And Violet,” Isadora’s voice dropped down to a conspiratorial whisper, “have you heard the latest rumor about your duke?”
My duke. The words sounded so out of place. “Tell me what it is now. Is he secretly married, or does he have a brood of children out of wedlock? Whatcould make this scenario even worse?”
Daphne chuckled, leaning forward with interest. “I would like to hear this too.”
Isadora smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. “I have heard whispers… you know… they say he’s a vampire.”
Violet blinked “I beg your pardon?”
Oh, for heavens sake.
Daphne nearly choked on her tea. “A vampire? Really, Isadora?”
“I’m serious!” Isadora insisted “They say that’s why he’s so handsome and charming. He drinks the blood of young women to stay youthful.”
“That’s absurd,” Violet said quickly, but her mind betrayed her. She remembered their first encounter, how close he had been, the warmth of his breath against her neck, and the way a shiver had run down her spine.
Could it really be true?
Daphne noticed the faint flush creeping up Violet’s neck and burst into laughter. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’re actually considering it!”
“I am not!” Violet shot back, defensively. “It’s just… ridiculous. I know better than to believe in such nonsense.”
Isadora leaned closer. “I think there must be some truth to it. He’s dangerously charming, he has a way of making people do what he wants, and he’s never seen in broad daylight.”
“That’s not true,” Violet said defensively though she couldn’t quite recall seeing him outdoors in the daytime during her time at Daphne’s house party.
“And don’t forget how pale he is. Perfect complexion, no blemishes. Clearly unnatural.”
“You’re making this up.” Violet felt her face growing warmer by the second.
“Am I?” Isadora countered with a grin.
Daphne shook her head, still chuckling. “Stop scaring the poor girl. She has it bad enough already.”
Violet groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I don’t know why I bother talking to either of you.”
