he balcony of her bedroom, she could see the towering oaks that lined the edge of the property, their bare branches stark against the pale winte
ers, embroidered tapestries, and polished wood floors-but all of it, no
n planned for her bef
nd languages-preparations for her eventual role as the perfect aristocratic wife. But somewhere along the way, amidst the balls, the dinners, and the endless parade of suitors, Evelyn had
iting the inevitable. Tomorrow, her engagement to the Duke of Ashcombe would be formally announced. The Duke, a man of impeccable standing, whose wealth and title would o
elyn, it w
ramed by long lashes. She looked every bit the aristocratic beauty she was meant to be. And yet, as she stared at her own image, she felt a growing dissonanc
elyn turned to find her standing at the door, her expression filled with the
t smile. "I suppose I should prepar
know, my lady, you need not marry him if you do no
e of me if I didn't, Clara? A woman alone, without the protection of a husband or fa
other choices, my lady. There are places in th
understand the weight of Evelyn's world-the world that required her to uphold her family's reputation, to marry the Duke and secure the future of W
voice tinged with weariness, "you mustn
e nodded, retreating back toward the door. "As you wish, my lady
upon her like a heavy cloak. Her father had already spoken of the engagement as if it were a matter of fact, as though Evelyn had no say in the matter. The Duke, she knew, wa
had never dared voice aloud? To be free from the suffocating expectations of her title, to love not for duty but
tiful daughter, the heiress destined to marry for convenience. In that life, perhaps, she would fi
ht was in
ng since learned that dreams were
ep into a future she did not choos
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