The sarcasm in his friend’s voice was not lost on Nicholas.
“What? You believe I am not capable of doing the right thing?”
“I did not expect you to marry her,” Ambrose replied bluntly. The two friends had an extremely candid relationship. “So it comes to me as a surprise, but a pleasant one, nonetheless.”
“I amflatteredthat you have so much faith in me,” Nicholas said through gritted teeth. “Really, I am.”
Ambrose laughed again, taking a swig from his drink. “You did the right thing. But one cannot help but wonder what the lady thinks about this entire thing. Was it a difficult conversation with her?”
Nicholas groaned internally. He did not like to think about it much. His visit to Nightingale Manor felt like a dizzying blur to him now in retrospect. For a moment, his mind flashed back to the reluctance on Violet’s face when he’d told her they were to marry.
“She agreed,” he said finally. “But it would be an exaggeration to say that she was happy about it.”
“That is not surprising to me,” Ambrose remarked.
“Pardon?”
“Violet Kingsman isn’t exactly the scandalous type. Quite the opposite in fact.”
Nicholas frowned, leaning forward slightly. “You seem to know a great deal about her.”
Ambrose shrugged. “Daphne’s mentioned her often enough. Violet and her friends—Isadora Morton, in particular—are quite close. They’ve been to Greymont several times. They all bonded together over their shared love of books.”
“Books,” Nicholas repeated. It occurred to him that he knew very little of the woman that he was to marry.
“Yes, she adores them. Daphne speaks highly of her. Says she’s kind, shy, and entirely too proper to ever involve herself in a scandalous rendezvous,” Ambrose continued, unfazed.
“Which makes this all the worse.”
“Or all the more curious,” Ambrose countered, raising an eyebrow. “Did you wonder why she was out there in the first place?”
“She said she needed air,” Nicholas replied, his tone defensive. “She was upset.”
Why do I even care to defend her? She is practically a stranger to me.
“Upset about what?” Ambrose pressed.
Nicholas’ gaze drifted to the amber liquid in his glass. “She didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.”
Ambrose sighed, setting his glass down with a faint clink. “You may want to get better acquainted with your bride, Nicholas. I think you underestimate her.”
“Underestimate how?” Nicholas was not sure what his friend was trying to imply.
“It means that shy doesn’t equal simple,” Ambrose replied. “She may not thrive in the scandalous circles you’re used to, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be a passive observer in this marriage.”
“I never stated that she would be.” Nicholas downed another large gulp of his whiskey. Truthfully, he had little clue ofwhatto expect from her.
“Perhaps I’m overcomplicating this,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s a marriage of convenience, Ambrose. Not the first of its kind and certainly not the last. If I keep my distance, she’ll have her peace, her freedom. That should be good enough.”
Ambrose raised an eyebrow. “Do you honestly believe that’s all it takes to make a marriage work? Distance and indifference?”
“It’s a practical arrangement. Practicality doesn’t require sentiment.”
Ambrose let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, you are in for a surprise.”
“You are trying to scare me, I know.” Nicholas gritted his teeth. “I will make sure that the lady is well taken care of. What else is there to ask for?”
“Companionship, for one,” Ambrose shrugged.
