Page 52 of An Orphan for the Broken Duke

“But you are not on your own,” Rose pleaded. “What of His Grace? He has helped, has he not? I am sure that if you ask him, he will happily assist you.”

“He has not…” She grimaced, unable to finish that thought because it felt wrong. “He has assisted in small ways, but he has not helped. I do not need it.”

“You do from where I am standing.”

It was unfair, but Violet was struck by a sudden burst of anger. For most of her life, she had done things herself, never needing help—never being offered it! And that was for a good reason too. Only she knew what needed to be done, and she could not trust anyone else.

“I am fine, Rose.” Violet turned back to her work. “Now, please leave me alone. I am busy.”

“Violet—“

“Please, Rose,” Violet cut over her; her head was bowed, and she was back to working. “Thank you.”

Violet felt Rose watching her. She felt her sister’s concern and worry. And while Violet did feel somewhat guilty about having snapped at her, she refused to apologize. She should not have to! After all that she had done, Rose ought to have known better than suggesting that Violet needed help.

I can do this… I am better off on my own.

So it was that Violet was left to her work. The hour was late, the lighting was dim, and her eyelids were heavy. She yawned… she stretched… she felt her eyes close… she opened them… shook her head… yawned again… and then slowly, without meaning to, rested her head on the table.

Only for a second. A few minutes to rest. And then, she would get back to work…

Violet woke the following morning to the feeling of sunlight on her face.

“Oh!” She sat up with a start, confused for a moment, only to remember what she had been doing. “Oh, no!” She looked down at her work and gasped to see that her notes were gone.

Panic overtook her, and she was on her feet and racing from the room. She needed to find her work, and she needed to get back to it. The ball was days away! There simply was not time! How had she let this happen?”

“Violet…” The call came from an open door that she was rushing past.

Violet came to a sudden halt, realizing that it was the doorway to Rhys’ office. So frazzled was she that she had not even noticed where she was going.

“Can you come in here for a moment?” he asked her.

She did not want to. She had so much to do! But there was a firmness in Rhys’ request, and she figured that the least she could do was see him. He had been treating her rather nicely, after all.

Violet slunk into his office. Rhys sat behind his desk, a straight back, hands folded on the table. And when he looked at her, it was with clear concern. He was worried about her, and she knew the reason…

“How did you sleep?” he asked her.

“Very well,” she said with caution. “I… I needed it. But I feel well rested now, much more myself again.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You do not look it.”

She grimaced, aware of how tragic she must have appeared. Messy hair. Crinkled clothes. And she was mortified to picture how sunken her face must have looked, the bags under her eyes.

“Did you need something?” she asked, desperate to end this conversation so that she could bathe and then get back to work.

“Rose came and saw me last night,” he began. “She told me of your… conversation.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Mostly, she was worried about you.”

‘Which I told her was not necessary. I am fine.”

“Is that why you fell asleep at your desk?” he said. “I came to see you and was not at all surprised to find you passed out. You have been working so hard, Violet. More than is necessary.”

She firmed herself up. “If you are going to insist that I need help, I will save you the time. I do not need it, Rhys. I am perfectly capable of doing this on my own. Compared to what I have been through, it is nothing.”

She spoke sharply, and more rudely than she intended. It was not something that she wanted to do, but old habits were hard to leave behind, and Violet hated being told that she could not do something.

It did bring her a little bit of guilt, however. She had noticed this last week how kind Rhys was, the little things he had done to help. He did not overstep or take over, but merely massaged around the edges of the tasks that troubled her most.