ad transformed a desperate personal ple
athtaking audacity. But beneath it, he also saw a flicker of something else-a profound, hi
ly. He turned his head, his
them. The fate of everyone in the chapel, it s
d his mother's for a
wager Marchioness saw what Adela herself had counted on: this was not a hysterical girl but a formidable woman with a will of s
light, almost i
h. The decis
d saw something flicker in his gray eyes-a dry, humorless twist o
ingering injuries from the Crusades as a shield, and it was widely rumored amon
altar, not by a blushing debutante b
rs. Perhaps that was the point. In choosing him, she was choosing safety-a powerful name and a title, without the unwelcome demands o
gan t
ds on the marble floor. Each step was heavy, measured, echoing the gravity of the moment
irectly in f
eclipse. The scent of clean linen, leather, and cold steel clung
baritone, a sound that seeme
d of warmth. "Are you certain you un
ithout flinching,
ily. "I seek the title of Marchioness of Crestwood
guard. A flicker of something-surprise, p
e a cu
unned bishop. "Let us pr
his eyes wide. "But.
tled on him, and the bish
ck stated, his voice leav
ishment. The scandal had just escalated into a legend. The bride r
their pew, their faces slack with shock. This
ck into her seat, whispering to her lady‑in‑waiting to see
Julian should have occupied. He stood straight
rouded in an atmosphere both
e recited the sacred vows, his h
r question, the Marquis did not hesitate. He lo
said, fir
what she had done, the sheer magnitude of her gamble, threatened to overwhel
able man beside her and
d
Julian had commissioned, but a simple heavy band of platinum, bearing
steady grasp. He slid the ring onto her finger. It was slightly too l
aced a matching
p declared, his voice filled with awe. He cle
chapel held
d down. But he did not claim her lips. Instead,
ven affection. It was the sealing
its way down her spine, bu
ad paid off. She was no longer
Marchioness
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