Violet resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She found her brothers’ words being echoed in her friends well-meaning advice.
“Why does everyone keep suggesting that to me?” she pouted, crossing her arms out in front of her chest. If anything, theirinsistence made her want the opposite. “How nice would it be if my Prince Charming could justshow upon his own without me having to seek him out?”
“My dear, that only happens in romance novels,” Isadora chuckled though Daphne looked on with more of an understanding expression.
“And?” Violet argued. “Prince Charming only happens in romance novels as well. That does not mean that we cease to hold out hope for him.”
“She has a point,” Isadora agreed, albeit begrudgingly. “Perhaps this will becometrue for you,Violet. Perhaps your Prince Charming will show up on his own without you having to seek him out.”
“Wouldn’t that be idea. Violet shook her head, laughing now too. In her fantasy world,thiswas exactly what she hoped would happen.
If only there was a way to make fantasy a reality. Some sort of magic spell…
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the butler announcing a name that sent a ripple through the room.
“The Duke of Bernight.”
Violet froze as every head turned toward the doorway. She heard the whispered reactions around her: “The Duke is here?” “He never attends parties like this.” “Have you heard the stories about him?”
Violet followed the collective gaze reluctantly. There he was, Nicholas Havenford. The Duke of Bernight. His dark hair was artfully tousled, and his confident smile seemed to light the room. Violet had, of course, heard about him before.
Who hadn’t?The man was notorious amongst the ton. People loved to gossip about him, and he did not help his own case much given his rather… well, colorful life choices. He was also famous for beingdevilishly handsome.Ultimately, he was a rake who lived his life to the fullest, much to the chagrin of the ladies of the ton—though he hardly seemed to concern himself with them.
But this was the first time that she was seeing him in the flesh.
And she had to admit to herself, there was some stock to the whispers about him. She found her gaze lingering on him longer than it ought to. He was striking and undeniably handsome.
“I cannot believe that the duke is here,” Isadora whispered to her two friends. “He is notorious for skipping public events such as this. Daphne, how on earth did you manage to convince him?”
“Oh, I cannot take the credit. The Duke of Bernight is a close friend of Ambrose,” Daphne said, smiling sheepishly in her husband’s direction, who was now greeting the Duke.
“Well,” Isadora murmured, leaning closer to her friends, “from the way the ladies are eyeing him already, one would think he’s the prize of the Season. Surely, he’s the most eligible bachelor here tonight.”
Violet’s gaze flickered reluctantly back to the Duke. She had tried to avoid paying him much attention, but Isadora’s words made it impossible not to notice.
“Just look at them,” Isadora continued, nodding toward a small group of debutantes nearby. Their whispered giggles and stolen glances left no doubt about who they were discussing. “I daresay some of them have already planned their introductions…”
“I can’t imagine he minds the attention…” Violet muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
“He does have an impressive reputation, does he not?” Isadora nodded. “I’ve heard that he possesses quite the charm. They say no woman is immune to it.”
“Girls, you must give him some more credit. Nicholas is more than just charm and good looks. He’s a loyal friend to Ambrose, and I imagine that he must possesses more depth than he lets on,” Daphne defended.
Isadora raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean he’s not fully aware of the effect he has on a room. I mean—just look at himnow.”
Violet, unwillingly, followed Isadora’s gaze. The Duke stood effortlessly at the center of attention, his tall frame and confident stance making him impossible to ignore.
“And the worst part,” Isadora added, leaning closer to her friends, “is that he probably doesn’t even have to try.”
Violet scoffed quietly though her voice was tinged with something she couldn’t quite identify. “He must adore the attention.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Isadora grinned, nudging her friend playfully. “It would be enthralling to end up with someone who is so sought after. Perhaps you could try your luck, Violet.”
“Yes, if you are interested, then I can arrange for Ambrose to make your introduction,” Daphne agreed, always eager to help in whatever way possible.
Violet rolled her eyes. “No. I rather prefer someone a bit more…” Her eyes flickered across the room before they landed on a man in a brown suit, hunched over the corner of the room where the refreshment table was. “… demure.”
“Who are you talking about—” Isadora followed her friends gaze until she saw who she was referring to. “Lord Kembert?”
