Page 26 of An Orphan for the Broken Duke

She liked to pretend that she wanted nothing to do with him, but he saw clearly how she had reacted when he mentioned the possibility of a kiss. It was said in jest, but her cheeks had colored, her breath had caught, and her eyes had flicked to his lips as if imagining it.

And while Rhys rather enjoyed seeing how it had undone her, he would be lying if her reaction had not had a similar effect on him.

Rhys could not deny his attraction to Violet. There was just something about her that he found so… desirable. A part of it was how combative she was; she spoke to him as few others ever would. But he liked how caring she was, and how big her heart was. She was real, honest and open about who she was, and that was refreshing in so many ways.

And that she is so attractive certainly does not help…

Rhys knew he needed to be careful. He would continue to be kind to Violet. He would do as he promised when Lucy was nearby. But he was just as determined that this marriage remained convenient only. He had seen firsthand what so-called ‘love’ could do to a person, how it blinded them, made them act in ways that were not true to themselves. And then, inevitably, tragedy would follow.

“Let us be about this.” Rhys strode past Violet and toward the front door.

It opened before he reached it, and Mr. Marrow appeared in the doorway. He was Rhys’ personal steward, the head of the household, and his smile was typically controlled when he saw Rhys approach.

“Your Grace,” he said with a short bow. “We are ready for you, as requested.”

“Thank you, Mr. Marrow,” Rhys said as he climbed the few steps to the front door. “I would expect nothing less.”

Rhys waited at the front door for Violet. When she reached him, he beckoned her forward. She hesitated as she eyed the entrance, nerves taking her in a way that was not typical. But then she firmed herself, stood tall, and stepped inside.

As Rhys had requested, every member of the household staff stood ready and waiting. From the cooks to the maids to the ground staff, they were all there. He walked to them, stopped, and turned as he looked at Violet.

“Your Grace, welcome to your new home,” he said to her. “I would like to take this moment to introduce you to the staff.” He swept his hand towards them. “Should you need anything at all, do not hesitate to ask. They are here to serve you and are happy to do so.”

Violet looked unsure. Again, that confidence which she had worn like armor since he first met her was nowhere in sight. And for the first time, Rhys appreciated just how intimidating this situation must have been for her.

“Is something wrong?” he asked her gently.

“No…” She firmed herself. “It is just, I am used to doing things for myself. I do not need…” She bit into her lip. “This is all unnecessary.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “But you are now a duchess, and while you might not want to admit it, there will be times when you must act like it.”

A shadow passed behind her eyes, and he braced for her to disagree. But she was not the same woman as she had been in the carriage, and she looked suddenly small and even afraid.

Rhys sighed with pity. It was not his intent to intimidate her, nor did he wish to make her feel so uncomfortable. “You may all go,” he said to the staff with a wave of his hand. “That is enough for now.”

They did so quickly, save for Mr. Marrow.

“You might like to do things for yourself…” He approached Violet carefully. “But that does not mean you have to. Not anymore.”

“You speak as if it is a burden,” she said with some defiance.

“No one will force you to ask for help if you do not want it,” he assured her. “If you are truly set in your ways, that is your decision.” He looked at her with honesty, praying she might believe him. “However, if you do need anything at all, Mr. Marrow here is my personal steward. He will always be available to you.”

She studied Rhys as if searching for the lie, some trap. But he continued to look at her honestly, determined that she believed for once that he was not out to get her.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” Mr. Marrow greeted her.

“Oh.” She blinked. “Violet, please.”

Mr. Marrow frowned. “I… I would prefer not, Your Grace, if that is agreeable?”

Rhys watched her closely. While this was not a test, it suddenly felt like one. Would she refuse the title? Would she demand that she be called by her name? And would she ever accept what she now was?

“Violet!” a shrill cry suddenly ripped across the foyer, interrupting the moment.

Violet’s eyes widened with a bright smile, and she turned and laughed when she saw Lucy sprinting across the foyer and straight towards her. Her hair was freshly trimmed, and her dress was far finer than anything she might have worn before in her life, but it was undoubtedly that same little girl who he had rescued from the orphanage.

Now that she has been cleaned up, she looks even more like Eleanor…