Nicholas didn’t answer. Instead, he spurred his horse ahead, leaving Ambrose laughing in his wake.
This is all new to you. That is why you are thinking of her.
For now, Nicholas was content with that explanation.
Violet was having trouble sleeping.
She lay on her back, staring at the ornately carved canopy above with only the stillness of the night to keep her company. Nomatter how tightly she closed her eyes or how many times she shifted her position, sleep refused to come.
With a soft sigh, she sat up, her fingers brushing against the silk hem of her nightgown as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. A restless energy coursed through her, one she couldn’t quite place.
Some company would be nice.
Back home, whenever she had been faced with a sleepless night such as this one, she would venture out into the hallways and often find her brother, Leopold, awake, for he was as nocturnal as she. That was no longer an option.
Perhaps a walk might help her settle. A foolish idea, perhaps, but one that tempted her all the same.
It was not the wisest idea to venture out into the garden at this hour, but it felt like her best chance at finding some semblance of peace. She might tire herself out sufficiently to drift back to sleep.
Yes, that was exactly what she would do.
Quietly, she made her way out of her room and into the dimly lit corridor. Careful not to make any noise, she walked on her tiptoes.
When she reached the end of the hallway where she would turn to reach the staircase, she hesitated. A faint glow seeped out from the crack beneath the door.
Someone else was awake. Well,someonecould only be the Duke. Who else would be in his study at this hour?
Curiosity prickled at her.
She contemplated on whether or not she should knock, but then something overcame her. Slowly, she pushed the door open. A faint but surprising scent of paint and turpentine met her senses as she found Nicholas seated in the same spot she had found him just a few nights prior, brush in hand and a look of quiet intensity on his face.
She held her breath, and there was a pause in her step, her mind torn between retreating and announcing her presence.
For a moment, she simply watched him. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms speckled with faint traces of paint. The angle of his jaw, illuminated by the warm light, looked sharper in his focused state. There was something almost serene about the way he worked, the usual aloofness that marked his demeanor replaced by something softer.
The Duke was…painting?It was in sharp contrast to his usual imposing presence. She could not make herself look away. Unable to resist her curiosity, she stepped forward.
“I see that you could not find sleep either this night.”
Nicholas’ hand stilled mid-motion, his head snapping up as though he hadn’t heard her approach. His expression was unguarded—genuine surprise flickered in his dark eyes before he quickly composed himself.
“Violet,” he said, startled as he tossed the brush to the side. Then, as if embarrassed by his own reaction, he quickly cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “How long have you been standing here?”
“Oh, not long,” she replied, her tone light as she moved closer. “Mind if I join you?”
The request was very much unlike herself. But somehow, the thought of a walk alone paled in comparison to observing whatever it was he was doing.
He leaned back slightly, still watching. “I didn’t expect company at this hour. Let alone yours.”
Her gaze fell to the canvas, where a landscape was slowly coming to life. “I didn’t know you painted.”
Nicholas glanced at the canvas, his lips curving into a slight smirk. “Oh, this?” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. Just a way to pass the time.”
“Nothing?” Violet repeated, her brows lifting as she took a step closer to study the intricate details of the work.
She found herself drawn by the richness of the colors and the way the strokes blended together seamlessly. The scene depicted a grove of trees, their leaves golden in the sunlight, with a hint of a lake peeking through the foliage. It felt almost alive, the warmth of the scene a stark contrast to the coolness she often associated with Nicholas.
“Yes, it is just something I like to do to pass the time,” he said.
