“You should rest now, Your Grace. Your leg will heal faster if you let it,” Maria said as she finished her work and stood. “And youmay call on me whenever you need something. His Grace has given me express instructions in that regard.”
Was this himcaringagain?
“Of course,” Violet murmured, watching Maria leave the room.
Alone once more, Violet leaned back against the pillows, her mind still spinning.
Care. The idea clung stubbornly to her thoughts. Perhaps Maria had articulated what she desperately wanted to hear—andwishedto be true.
That she did mean something to him as he did to her.
His reaction coupled with the idea that Nicholas had been watching her, keeping an eye on her from afar, refused to leave her. It was an unsettling thought, not because it unnerved her but because it made her feel something.
Her heart fluttered, and she pressed a hand to her chest, frustrated with her own reaction.
Whatever his reasons, Nicholas was a man who thrived on control, and his concern, if it even was concern, had likely been nothing more than a reflex.
It is not care. Do not fool yourself. It is merely obligation.
And yet, a part of her hoped that she was wrong.
What about the kiss?
“Think nothing of it,” she said to herself. Surely, he must have kissed many ladies in his life—the thought alone made her fill with ire—so this should not be special to him.
He must have forgotten about it already.
Yes, that was what Violet must think of it as. If she stopped herself from reading too much into things, she would perhaps have a better chance at protecting herself from getting disappointed.
But as Violet slipped into slumber that night, all that she dreamt about was Nicholas. Except in her dreams when he had arrived to save her after her fall, he had told her that he loved her.
“He… he loves me.” Violet shot up in bed abruptly. It was not a nightmare that had woken her up—but a good dream.
One that couldonlyremain a dream because having him utter those words to her seemed too far away from reality.
It took Violet a moment to adjust her vision to the darkness and have the realization that she had woken up at what was likely an odd hour. There was no light coming in from her window, indicating that it was not even dawn yet.
“Your Grace.” A hurried Maria rushed inside her room. “I heard your voice from outside. Are you fine? Do you need anything?”
Violet blinked, wondering if she was dreaming again. “Maria, why are you not asleep in your own quarters? Were you sitting outside my chambers this whole time?”
Maria nodded. “Yes, it is my turn in the night to remain outside your chambers. His Grace divided the responsibilities between different members of the staff,” she explained.
Violet could not believe her ears. That sounded all too excessive.
“For what reason?” she demanded.
“He worried that you might need something at night, and there would be no one to attend to you,” Maria explained. “Are you experiencing some discomfort now? Do you wish for me to help in any way?”
Violet felt at a loss of words again. “Maria, please go back to your quarters and sleep soundly. I shall be fine.”
“But His Grac?—”
“Consider it an order from me,” Violet said, shaking her head now. Reluctantly, the maid left.
Surely, Nicholas had spared no effort in ensuring that she got all the help she needed—or even that she did not need. Was it true, then? What Maria had said before?
That all of this was out ofcare?Perhaps… evenlove?
