Nicholas cleared his throat, stepping back slightly and offering her his arm. “Yes, of course.”
Violet nodded, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. As they made their way to the waiting carriage, Nicholas couldn’t help but glance at her out of the corner of his eye.Somethinghad changed in her—it was the way she was carrying herself. Even her gait seemed to have shifted slightly, her hips swaying in an irresistible manner as she walked.
And for the first time, he found himself eager to arrive at the ball—not to see the crowd or hear the music but to watch their reactions when they saw his duchess.
My duchess.Once again, the possessiveness in his words took him by surprise.
“Is something the matter?” Violet asked, turning her head slightly to look at him as they climbed into the carriage.
Nicholas hesitated for a moment, realizing he had been caught staring. He cleared his throat and adjusted his cuff, leaning back slightly as if to create some physical distance between himself and the thought that had just crossed his mind.
“Nothing at all,” Nicholas replied smoothly though his lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Though I must say, perhaps I have been taking you lightly all this time.”
Her face contorted with confusion. “I begyour pardon?” she asked as the carriage began to roll forward.
He tilted his head toward her, his dark eyes still holding a trace of that earlier intensity. “Must I point it out to you? I thought it was already quite…” His gaze dropped to her dress again. “… blatant.”
Violet’s face flushed, and Nicholas found himself thinking just how satisfying that felt for reasons he did not even wish to explore. Not yet.
For now, he was happy just enjoying the moment.
“I do not know what you are referring to.”
Ah. So, the duchess would prefer to play innocent.
Nicholas let his smirk widen, folding his hands casually in his lap as he regarded her. “If I did not know any better, I would think that you were trying to seduce your husband.”
Her blush deepened. “And where did you get that idea from?” she asked, her breath coming out faster now.
“Just a hunch,” he shrugged, playing coy. “I understand why you did not wish for me to see the gown before. Very well played.”
She looked up at him then, as though she did not fully understand what had prompted this. “Is that what is this about? My gown?”
“You could say that. Was that not your intention? The gown, the hair, the way you’re walking tonight…if I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a plan.”
She seemed to mumble something under her breath then looked away.
“Answer me,duchess.”
But then, the tension in the air eased, and Violet broke into laughter.
“The gown is Madame Celine’s doing, not mine. And as for the way I walk—” She broke off, unable to suppress another giggle. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously observant,” Nicholas countered, leaning forward slightly. His tone was teasing, but his eyes betrayed something warmer, something deeper.
Violet gave him a mock glare though her smile betrayed her. “And do you always flatter yourself like this, Your Grace?”
“Only when the situation calls for it.”
“You’re impossible.”
His gaze lingered on her lips for a moment before he forced himself to look away, his hands tightening briefly on his lap. He could feel the faint itch in his fingers, the urge to reach out and touch her, to brush a loose strand of hair from her face or rest his hand lightly on her cheek.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he cleared his throat, leaning back once more. “I’m glad I could make you laugh, at least,” he said softly. “It suits you.”
Violet blinked, her cheeks warming again though she managed to keep her composure. “Thank you. Though I am not used to you being so nice to me.”
