The Duke And His Four Wards

For three years, Brianna had poured her entire merchant dowry into a crumbling estate, funding her husband Allen's rise to become a Royal Scholar.

But on the day of his triumphant return, he stepped out of his carriage holding another woman's hand.

He announced that Isabelle, a noblewoman, would be his new wife and the mistress of the house.

"I expect you to accept this arrangement. You will need to continue managing the accounts to fund our move to the capital."

He actually wanted Brianna to use her mother's legacy to finance his new life with his new lover.

His family eagerly chimed in, mocking Brianna's merchant blood and threatening that a discarded woman would be a laughingstock in the kingdom.

They thought Brianna was just an orphan with no backing, a walking treasury they could bleed dry and then cage.

They seemed to have completely forgotten that without Brianna's money, their "noble" family was nothing but a mountain of hidden debt.

Brianna didn't scream or cry.

She simply slammed the estate ledgers and the heavy gold signet ring onto the dining table.

"Since she is the new mistress, she can manage your bankrupt estate."

While they panicked over their empty coffers, Brianna secretly left in the dead of night.

She took the life-debt token her mother left her and went straight to the terrifying Iron Duke.

She was going to get a royal divorce and take back every single penny that belonged to her.

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Brianna felt the carriage before she saw it-a low rumble in the gravel, a tremor that traveled up through the soles of her shoes and settled in her chest.

"He's here."

Brianna's breath caught in her throat, her gloved fingers stilling on the velvet of her gown.

The words tumbled from Rose, a young maid flushed with excitement as she ran from the main gate. "The master's carriage is coming up the road, my lady!"

A genuine smile-the first that felt real all day-bloomed on Brianna's face. She turned to her personal maid, Elara, who stood a respectful step behind her.

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, my lady," Elara confirmed, her voice soothing. "The roast suckling pig is resting, the wine has been decanted. Everything is perfect for the celebration."

A celebration for Sir Allen Small, her husband. The man returning not just as a scholar, but as a Royal Scholar, a title bestowed by the King himself.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. She glanced at her reflection in the polished glass of the entryway window-her makeup flawless, her gown the color of a twilight sky. She wanted to be perfect for him.

For three years, she had poured everything into this life, this family. She remembered arriving at Oakhaven, a sprawling but neglected estate on the brink of ruin. Allen's family, knights for generations, had pride but no gold. It was her dowry, the last remnant of her mother's merchant wealth, that had propped up this crumbling facade.

She had transformed it. Oakhaven was no longer just a knight's holding; it was a respectable scholar's residence. She had managed the accounts, overseen the harvests, turned this place into a home worthy of his new station. All for him.

The crunch of gravel grew louder, pulling her from her thoughts. The carriage-a fine new one he'd surely purchased in the capital-rolled to a stop before the grand oak doors she'd had re-varnished last spring.

Her smile widened. She imagined his surprise, his pleasure at the welcome she had prepared.

Brianna took a step forward, her skirts whispering against the stone floor. She was ready to welcome her hero home.

The carriage door swung open. Sir Allen Small stepped out, resplendent in new scholar's robes, the dark fabric making him look distinguished. He carried himself with a new confidence that bordered on arrogance.

He didn't look at her.