“You look radiant, Violet,” Daphne added. “Marriage agrees with you.”
“Oh, I agree with that.” Isadora chimed in, her brow arched playfully as she sipped her tea. “You’re practicallyglowing. I suspect it has something to do with a certain duke.”
Violet’s cheeks flared instantly, her teacup rattling slightly as she set it down. “I—that’s nonsense,” she stammered, avoiding their knowing gazes. “It’s just the fresh air here.”
“Oh, please,” Daphne said, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re not fooling anyone. What is there to hide amongst friends? How has married life been? Is the Duke treating you well?”
“He’s… very courteous,” she said carefully. “And very busy. I imagine it’s much the same as most marriages.”
“Courteous? That’s all you have to say? You sound as though you’re describing a distant relative, not your husband,” Isadora replied.
Daphne smirked, clearly enjoying Violet’s discomfort. “Surely there’s more to share than that. Does he make you laugh? Does he irritate you? Or—” she leaned closer, her voice lowering— “does he make you nervous?”
Violet’s blush deepened, and she busied herself with straightening the folds of her gown. Hedid.That was the truth. But he also ignited strange feelings in her that even she did not have a name for.
“He’s…different from what I expected,” she admitted finally.
Daphne and Isadora exchanged a glance.
“Oh, you will have to give us more than that,” Isadora prompted, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Is he terribly strict? Or terribly charming? Or both?”
“Both would be terribly inconvenient,” Daphne quipped, laughing softly.
“He’s neither,” Violet said quickly though she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. He wascharmingin his own way. “I suppose he is a bit, well, difficult to read, sometimes.”
Daphne laughed out loud at that. Her friends seemed to be extracting some sort of joy by watching her squirm like this. “Violet, you’re avoiding the question. We’re not asking you to analyze the man—we want to know how youfeelabout him.”
“I feel…” Violet trailed off, her words catching in her throat. She glanced between her friends, both of whom were watching her with open amusement. “It’s all just… very new. That’s all.”
Isadora let out a theatrical sigh, setting her cup down. “I don’t believe her,” she declared, turning to Daphne. “Do you?”
“Not for a second,” Daphne replied, shaking her head with a grin. “Violet Kingsman—you’re hiding something.”
“I am not!” Violet protested though her voice cracked slightly. “It’s just… well I suppose he is not as awful as the rumors make him out to be.”
“Oh, but that makes him even more intriguing,” Isadora said. “A man with many layers. But one thing is for certain, he seems to have captured your attention.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Violet said quickly, though blush that formed on her cheeks betrayed her. “I only meant that he’s not as distant as I first thought. He’s been very kind to me, and he seems… impressed by the changes I’ve made to the house.”
“And are you happy?” Daphne pressed, her tone serious all of a sudden.
“I am… happy,” Violet said, though the words felt more like a reassurance than a truth.
Daphne tilted her head slightly, her green eyes narrowing in curiosity. “But are youin love, Violet?”
Violet nearly choked on her tea. “In love?”
Love.
It felt like a concept from another world—something that happened in novels or to other people, far removed from the practical reality of her new life as a duchess. How could she even begin to answer that question when she barely understood her own feelings?
“I—” she began, fumbling for words. “That’s hardly the point, isn’t it? Besides, we’ve spent enough time dissecting my life. I wish to talk about something else. How is your sister’s debut coming along, Isadora?”
At the mention of her sister, Isadora’s demeanor shifted, a faint crease appearing on her brow. She sighed, leaning back in her chair.
“Oh, it’s been nothing short of a disaster,” she admitted.
Daphne’s expression softened immediately. “What’s happened?”
