Nicholas offered her his arm, and she hesitated for only a moment before slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. As they made their way toward the ballroom, the tension between them lingered. Nicholas found himself glancing at her again.
He had suggested a performance, but for the first time, he wondered who exactly they were trying to convince—the ton or themselves.
They made their way to the ballroom, her holding onto his arm. Nicholas felt it immediately—the way the room seemed to shift toward her, as if every man in attendance had turned his head to get a better look. The whispers began almost immediately.
“Is that the new duchess?”
“She’s stunning.”
“She looks… different.”
Nicholas’ jaw tightened imperceptibly though he kept his expression cool. He didn’t bother acknowledging the stares or the murmurs. Instead, he leaned slightly toward Violet, his voice low enough for only her to hear.
“It seems you’ve managed to captivate the entire room already, Duchess.”
Violet glanced up at him, her brow lifting slightly. “I doubt that.”
“Oh, I assure you,” Nicholas replied, his tone edged with something resembling pride, “you’ve caught the eye of more than a few gentlemen here tonight.”
She hesitated, glancing briefly at the crowd, and Nicholas caught the flicker of unease that crossed her face. He frowned slightly though he quickly masked it.
“Fortunately for you,” he continued, “the gentleman you have on your arm trumps them all.”
Violet blinked then turned her gaze back to him. “Lucky me,” she said dryly, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Though one might argue that you’re the lucky one, Your Grace.”
“Oh?”
Maybe he was.
“Well,” Violet said lightly, tilting her head, “I am the one doing most of the work tonight. All you have to do is stand there and look imposing.”
Nicholas chuckled softly, leaning slightly closer and flashing his teeth at her. “I’d argue that I excel at looking imposing. Like a vampire as some would say.”
That got a small laugh out of her—quite a delightful sound,he realized.
“Debatable.”
“Which part?” he countered.
“I’ll leave that for you to figure out,” she smiled.
The tension that had lingered between them earlier seemed to ease, replaced by a playful rhythm. A new dynamic seemed to be forming between the two of them—one that felt quite fun.Nicholas found himself smirking, his jealousy fading into the background as he focused entirely on her.
“Shall we make our entrance properly?” he asked, offering her his hand.
“Lead the way, Your Grace.”
As they progressed further into the ballroom, the stares continued. They did not bother him in the slightest. Instead, he stood taller, a quiet pride settling over him.Let them look, he thought. Let them see that the most stunning woman in the room was his duchess.
And if any of them dared to forget it, Nicholas decided he’d be more than happy to remind them.
“I think we should start the evening with something grand,” Nicholas suggested, already feeling bored of the ball. He was never too fond of them to begin with. It was something that they shared in common, perhaps.
“What is more grand than a scandal? Which we have already been a part of.”
“A dance,” he clarified, a smirk playing at his lips. “To properly set the tone for the evening.”
“Are you asking me to dance with you, Your Grace?”
