Page 53 of Untaming Lady Violet
That rushing feeling of dread she experienced at the sight of Grace breezing through the ornate doors could not be quashed.
Notorious for her lack of social airs, the duchess radiated all the strength and energy of a summer storm. Exquisitely dressed, her hair arranged perfectly, save for a few loose strands which slipped from her coiffure with a will of their own, she fairly gleamed with happiness.
“Oh, do hurry, Richeforte. Hurry!” Grace exclaimed, several steps ahead of her husband. Spying Herman, she laughed and closed the distance between them. “Herman, how wonderful it is seeing you again. I must say, your proclamation skills have not changed one bit, not that I thought they should. You announce everyone so perfectly. Don’t you think so, Richeforte?”
“Of course, darling,” came Nicholas’s droll response. The duke strolled in Grace’s wake, seeming unconcerned with his wife’s brash nature and her unusual behavior when addressing servants as if they were old friends. He smiled indulgently as Grace returned to his side, her hand slipping into his. Even to the casual observer, it was obvious the two could not tolerate being separated for even a short period of time.
“Our gracious hosts await us. Shall we?” Nicholas nodded toward Lord and Lady Darby.
Were they not already accustomed to their former ward and her impulsive nature, the earl and countess may have been shocked. But, having had guardianship over Grace for a lengthy period of time before her marriage to the duke, they were thankfully immune.
Grace blushed, and Violet felt a tremor of jealousy pierce the armor surrounding her heart.
How very beautiful Her Grace is. And how ardently she and the duke gaze at each other. As if they cannot bear to look elsewhere.
Glancing at Tristan, Violet expected to find his attention focused solely on Grace. Instead, his intense gaze centered on Violet herself. His eyes, usually lively and full of humor, were darkly penetrating as he watched her with a barely disguised hunger.
Only Richeforte’s low laugh succeeded in drawing Tristan’s eyes away, and even that was done in a reluctant manner.
“Welcome, Your Grace,” Lord Darby bowed first to Nicholas and then Grace. “Your Grace, you are even lovelier than the last time we saw you on the joyous occasion of your wedding day.”
Grace did not hesitate embracing her former guardian, followed by a fierce hug for Lady Darby. “How good it is to see you all. I’ve missed your dear faces.” Breaking free, she turned toward Celia with a delighted laugh. “And you, Celia. How I have missed you and your enchanting smile.”
Celia allowed herself to be swept into Grace’s arms.
“How wonderful you look, Your Grace.” Celia giggled. “It appears marriage agrees with you and the duke. Never have I seen two people with such an air of contentment around them.”
“The rigid rules of society shall not dictate our visit,” Grace said, leaning back to shake a finger at the family she lived with for so many months following her mother’s death. “I am simply ‘Grace’ to all of you. Or ‘Lady Grace’ if you are compelled to be so formal.” She grinned at Tristan with unabashed affection. “Hello, Longleigh. You look fit and well, as always. Perhaps more handsome, too, which surely isn’t fair to the other gentlemen visiting Darby Meadows.”
Tristan’s smile was warm and charming. “And I’ll respond with the observation your beauty is a welcomed bright spot.” With a genuine laugh of camaraderie, Tristan addressed the duke. “Richeforte, your presence always enlivens a gathering. It has been customary since the day we met.”
“In that retrospect, that was not always a pleasant thing to witness.” Nicholas shook Tristan’s hand, his brow arching. “But it is fortunate that the hospitality of Darby Meadows is always assured, as are the affections I have for you and your family.” When Grace nudged him with her shoulder, her gaze finding Violet and softening, the duke’s emerald green eyes widened the tiniest bit.
Giving Tristan a curious glance, Nicholas reached for Violet’s hand, gently pulling her to him. Several guests had gathered, and from the corner of her eye, Violet saw William standing in the entrance to the hall, an expression bordering on panic stamped over his features. Fiona Blackerby stood close by as well, her mouth set in a thin line of jealousy.
“Ah, the lovely Lady Violet,” Nicholas said. “Now, it must be said this May Day Affair is truly blessed with all the beauties of England in attendance.”
“How kind you are, Your Grace.” Violet thanked the stars above when her voice held steady and clear, despite her surprise that the powerful duke remembered her name. She couldn’t remember a time when Richeforte actually recognized her existence. Giving the duchess a shy smile, she murmured in acknowledgment, “Your Grace.”
She couldn’t bear to look at Tristan, not knowing if he stared at the duchess in rapt adoration, or perhaps now regarded Violet with vague disappointment.
Grace laughed, wrapping an arm around Violet’s waist. “None of that, now. We’ve been friends long enough that I will not tolerate such stuffiness. I’m so pleased to see you, Lady Violet. Your quiet, sweet nature is always a balm to one’s soul.”
Violet blushed until she was sure her cheeks were an unflattering shade of red. Her pulse thundered violently when Tristan commented, “Sometimes, a quiet nature is simply a mask hiding a fierceness of spirit.”
“A brilliant observation,” Lady Darby said, giving her son a nod of approval. “Come, let us get you settled into your rooms. Lady Grace, I’m sure you would appreciate a chance to freshen up after your journey.”
“Your Grace, would you care for a brandy?” Lord Darby inquired, turning to Nicholas.
“I held hope you would ask, Darby.”
Celia clapped her hands. “Oh, Grace! You arrived at just the right time. We are to have dancing tomorrow evening in the west parlor. The doors will be open to the terrace and the gardens. It will not compare to the May Day Affair Ball, but still, it is dancing all the same. Oh, do say you and His Grace will attend.”
“I most certainly will. Nothing could keep me from it,” Grace replied. Moving so until she stood between Celia and Violet, she linked her arms through those of the two girls. “Come with me to my rooms and help me decide what I should wear. Richeforte spent an ungodly amount adding to my wardrobe while we were away in France.” She sent her husband a dazzling smile. “Even though he knows I’d be just as content wearing last season’s gowns, provided I also have breeches and boots.”
“It is money well spent when the finished products enhance your beauty.” Nicholas grinned at his wife. “And you still have your breeches and boots. It appears I can deny you nothing, honeybee.”
Ducking her head, Grace whispered in a conspiratorial manner, “He spoils me without a smidgen of embarrassment. It is quite remarkable.” Raising her voice, she called out to Nicholas as Lady Darby led the way from the foyer. “Don’t be long, darling.”
