From Jilted Bride To Powerful Marchioness

all things, ev

rnous halls of the manor. Her feet ached, and the muscles in her face were sore from hours of fo

ed by a massive four‑poster bed draped in dark velvet. Stark, masculine, impeccably tidy. It felt less

er wedding gown. The heavy dress pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of it

the silver‑backed mirror. The woman looking back seemed a stranger-

ht was

, but rumors could be wrong. Would he honor their

een the tension

, my lady," she murmured, he

for him to decide her fate. She had not come this

d Elsie, her voice steadier than she f

la did not get into the cold, empty bed. Instead she walked to the fi

t have to

corridor-firm, measured. Her

a stark white linen shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, and dark trousers. He brought

noted that she was not in bed, but standing there wai

on a side table and poured himself a measure of am

she had t

voice a little shaky. "I

back still partially to her, leaning

age. This was the mos

his reflection in the dark windowpane, "of the

o drop ten degrees. In the reflection she saw his

ice trembling slightly

ctuary. You require a wife in name, to silence the goss

their union bare, stri

lly, "even in a marriage such as this, I am stil

by my husband in my own rooms on my wedding night. That would make

oser, her plea bec

will be on me at breakfast. If you are not seen leaving this room, if they suspect y

tching her, the whiske

welled in her eye. This was n

he whispered, her voice cracking. "I cannot endure it a

one thing a man like him would und

ook past the strategist, past the audacious girl at the altar, and see

down with a heavy

d walking

t, and she took an i

o close she could feel the wa

first time it held a note of so

lady. It was an ove

He walked not to the bed, but to the long velvet‑uphols

" he stated, his back to he