“Well, unless he decides to change his mind, there is no use in discussing this,” she conceded.
“Violet,” Daphne said, alarmed, “Nicholas left the estate, and you are acting as though this is a trivial matter.”
Violet fought to keep the tears from falling from her eyes.
“Oh, my dear.” Daphne lunged forward to hug her friend immediately. “I am sorry. I have not handled this well at all, have I? You are hurting.”
Violet finally let herself feel the emotions that she had been suppressing all week.
“I have deep feelings for him,” she said as tears began to cascade down her cheeks. “Foolishly, I thought that he might feel the same. Things had been going well between us. But then he abruptly told me that he could not live with me anymore. I am at a loss for what to do.”
Daphne rubbed her back, holding her friend close. “You don’t have to go through this alone. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Violet allowed herself to lean into the comfort of her friend’s embrace. They stayed like that for a long time.
Finally, Daphne pulled back, her tone turning resolute. “I will not allow you to leave and go back to that empty estate until you feel better.”
Violet hesitated but ultimately nodded. She, too, found the idea of returning to the estate quite daunting.
“As for Nicholas, I have no idea what has gotten into him. But rest assured, I shall speak about this with Ambrose. Perhaps he can talk some sense into him.”
Violet shook her head, “No, no,no.You will do no such thing.”
“And whynot? It is a good idea in my opinion,” Daphne pressed.
“It doesn’t matter,” Violet said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. She clasped her hands together in her lap.“Nicholas left of his own accord, Daphne. If he wishes to return, it will have to be his decision.”
Daphne leaned forward, her lips pressing into a thin line. “So, what? You’re just going to sit here and wait? Hoping he’ll come to his senses?”
Violet met her friend’s gaze, her green eyes unwavering. “I won’t beg him to come back, if that’s what you’re suggesting. This—whatever this is—must be resolved by him. I cannot force him to want this marriage. Nor would I want to.”
Daphne’s expression softened, her frustration giving way to concern. “Violet, I’m not saying you should beg. But surely, a little push in the right direction?—”
“No,” Violet interrupted, her voice firmer now. “Don’t you see? If I send someone to talk to him, if I try to persuade him to return, it will feel like I’m… holding onto something he doesn’t want. And I can’t do that. I won’t.”
Daphne was quiet for a moment. “You’re too good for him, you know that?”
Violet smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m not sure about that.”
“What if he never returns?” Daphne asked softly.
Violet’s chest tightened at the question, but she forced herself to meet her friend’s gaze. “Then I’ll manage.”
Daphne studied her for a long moment, then reached out to take her hand. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Violet.”
Violet squeezed her friend’s hand, grateful for the support. “I’m just trying to do what feels right.”
“Even if it breaks your heart?” Daphne asked quietly.
“Even then.”
Daphne sighed again, this time more resigned than frustrated. “Very well. I won’t involve Ambrose.”
“Thank you,” Violet said softly.
“But,” Daphne added, pointing a finger at her, “if he doesn’t come to his senses soon, I’ll take matters into my own hands. Don’t think I won’t.”
Violet chuckled despite herself, the sound light and almost foreign in her current state. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
