Late the next morning, the rain had stopped sometime before dawn, leaving behind crisp, fragrant air and soft sunlight filtering through the tall windows of Duke Alexander’s estate.
Lucia sat wrapped in a pale cream shawl by the hearth, her eyes downcast, her expression just tired enough to sell the illusion.
The fire crackled quietly, casting warm shadows across the parlor.
Across from her, Alexander sat upright on the divan, still recovering but fully alert.
He glanced toward the door when the butler entered.
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