“Do you honestly think I would allow myself to be caught if I didn’t want to be?” he continued, his tone edged with humor. But really, he wished to lighten the mood.“Violet, you’remyduchess now. Let them whisper, but they will never be at the position you are now. They’re just jealous.”
He did not know where the possessiveness in his voice came from, but he was beginning to realize that when it came toher,it always followed.
She stared at him for a moment, as though processing his words, before a soft laugh escaped her. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted to hear her laugh until that moment.
“What’s so amusing?”
“Nothing,” Violet shook her head. “Well, just…you.”
“Elaborate.”
But Violet merely continued to smile. “I will try and take your advice for the next time I overhear a whisper. If for nothing else but to make myself feel better.”
“As you should.”
She continued to look in his direction, smiling as though she was in on a joke that he was not aware of.
“Am I missing something here?”
“Nothing, nothing. Just that… I am surprised by you, every day,” she admitted. “And dare I say it, you’re even starting to look less like a vampire.”
Confused by her words, he decided he’d get an answer out of her—one way or the other, but he’d wait for when the time was right. For now, he was happy that at least she had not let the words of others to get to her.
Keeping your husband interested.
It was something that Violet had thought about more times than she would like to admit to herself. Surely, the Madame had many years of experience andmustknow what she was talking about.
For Violet, this felt like an added pressure. On top of learning how to be the perfectly poised duchess, she had to think about how to be the perfect wife.
Daunting, yes. But as her maids helped her change into new gown, she found herself almost looking forward to the challenge.
“Maria,” she said to one of her maids—the one that she trusted most, “how can one get andsustaintheir husband’s interest in them?”
Maria paused mid-motion, her hands deftly adjusting the bodice of Violet’s new gown. Her dark eyes flickered with surprise at the unexpected question, but she quickly masked it with a polite smile.
“Your Grace,” she began cautiously, smoothing out the fabric of the dress, “I don’t think I’m quite the one to advise a lady on such matters.”
“Why not? You’re married, aren’t you?”
Violet knew that perhaps her maid wasnotthe best person to ask for advice on this matter, but in the absence of her friends, she was the best option available. After all, shehadto talk about it with someone. Shemust.
“That I am, Your Grace. But a maid’s marriage is hardly the same as a duchess’.”
“Still,” Violet pressed, adjusting the lace on her sleeve, “surely there are some universal truths. Some might say that it was all about one’s appearance, but that can’t be everything, can it?”
Maria hesitated, “Appearance matters, surely. But you shan’t have any trouble with that, Your Grace. I am sure that the Duke is completely besotted by your looks.”
I am not too sure of that.“Do you think there’s more to it?”
All the fictional men that Violet had read about in her novels seemed to value somethinggreaterthan just appearance.
“I think men—husbands—are more complicated than we sometimes give them credit for, Your Grace. Some care only for what is on the surface. Others… well, others look for something deeper. Respect, perhaps. Or an understanding of them that is deeper than anyone else in their lives can offer.”
Violet frowned slightly, turning back to the mirror. Suddenly, Madame Celine’s method sounded a lot simpler.
“I suppose those are important. But how does one even begin to offer that when…”the two of you barely know each other.
“Do you mean when you’re still getting to know each other in a new marriage, Your Grace?” the maid added, helpfully.
