The Unwanted Duchess Claims Her Throne

eatrical, unmistakably deliberate. It was followed by a man's low

ou think she can hear us? Poor thing. Waking up on her wedding night to find

she's going to be my wife in name, she might

She was on the floor, her head cushioned by a thick Aubusson carpet, the weight of her wedding gown pinning her down like an anchor. The delicate white silk was still str

's illegitimate daughter in the manor as if she were the true-born heir. A political marriage her father had orchestrated and forced upon her. A wedding day. This wedding day. Her new husband was Sterling Hawthorne, Duke of Hawthorne. And that sound-that mocking, performative moan-belon

of a foreign consciousness. Operative. Code name: Nig

ssic honey trap, clumsily executed. Her own father's doing. The incense had been a wedding gift from him. A gift to ensure his daugh

dden by the voluminous skirt. She pressed her back against

aking no effort to cover herself. She let the silk sheet slip deliberately lower and nestled deeper against Sterling's chest, her eyes darting toward Elenore with triumph. Her

own Sterling's bare chest. "Sterling had no choice but to marry you. Your father demanded it, and the contracts gave him no way out. He was trapped. You were nothing but a signature on a piece of paper. A transaction. But don't ever fool yourself into thin

culmination of a lifetime of being second-best, of being told she was worthless. Of watching her sister take everything-her

none of it. The heartbreak curdled into something

scream. She

gs over the side of the bed and pulled on a silk dressing gown with infuriating slowness, then walked toward her, measured and

s the incense has worn off. A pity. I was hoping you'd sleep th

to hide behind him, peering at Elenor

looked directly at Sterling not as a husba

ot the reaction they had anticipated. Where were t

u are the Duchess of Hawthorne. You will have the title, the estate, the respect due to your station. What I do in my private hours is

en she moved-a slight shift of her weight, a subtle

tarily stunned. He stared at his empty hand, then

thick with false tears. "It was my fault. I... I love him too much to stay away. You underst

quiet but cutting. "I

air, sharp and deadly. St

, detached. "But the acting is dreadful. Especially yours, Isabelle. You're playing the devoted mis

on her sister. Isabelle flinched, stepping back instinctively, her

d have moved heaven and earth to marry you. Contracts can be broken. Alliances can be renegotiated. Men with power get what they want." She tilted her head, her smile widening. "But he didn't fight for you, did he? He signed the papers. He stood at the altar. He put his ring on my finger. He looked me in the eyes and swore vows before God and every noble in this k

driven straight into Isab

ous red. She lunged forward, all pretense gone, r

was fascinated despite himself. This was not the woman he had been told to expect. This was something else entirely. Something sharp. Something lethal. And

d won this round. But the war was just beginning. And somewhere in the shadows beyond this gilded cage, sh

had jus