Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 59827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“Mother told me the truth,” he says roughly. “After you left. She told me everything.”
The words have me instinctively recoiling, but he doesn’t let go.
He knows.
All of it.
He knows how shameful—
“She told me what he used to say to you. About your virginity. How he mocked you for it. Called you a tease. Made you feel dirty for waiting.”
Oh God.
“And then she looked at my face,” he says, “and she knew. She knew what I’d done. Because I’d used the exact same weapon he used.”
The look on Veil’s face makes me swallow hard.
“I confirmed your worst fear, Evianne. That all men would eventually use it against you. That even me, even the man who spent weeks trying to show you that you were precious—”
“D-Don’t.” I press my hand over his mouth. “Don’t say that.”
He kisses my palm. Gentle. Reverent.
“You trusted me with something precious,” he grates out against my skin, “and I weaponized it. Just like he did.”
“You’re not him.” The words come out before I can stop them. “Joseph did it because he wanted to control me. You did it because you were—”
“Scared.”
I nod.
“Terrified,” he corrects, his voice raw. “Of being made a fool. Of losing something that mattered more than I knew how to handle.”
His jaw tightens against my shoulder.
“I built walls my whole life because I watched what trust did to the people around me. And when Joseph showed up at the gates calling himself your fiancé, every wall went back up at once. I was so certain, so convinced you’d played me, that I couldn’t see straight.”
“I’m not using you.” I cup his face now, making him look at me. “I never was.”
“I know that now.”
“Do you?” I search his eyes. “Because if there’s any part of you that still thinks—”
“There’s no doubt.” His forehead presses against mine. “You’re nothing like what I feared. You never were. You’re genuine and brave and real, and I almost lost you because I was too scared to see it.”
The horse shifts beneath us, patient.
“T-Tell me again.”
“Tell you what?”
“What you were going to ask me. On the balcony. Before I ran.”
His hands frame my face.
“Be my girlfriend.”
“T-That’s it?”
“Well, I was working up to more. But you ran away before I could get there.”
“What’s more?”
He cups my face, and my heart, oh my heart...
“Marry me, Evianne.”
I can’t breathe.
Can’t think.
Can’t process what he just said.
“I love you and I know I don’t deserve you after what I said, after how I hurt you, but I’m begging you anyway. Say yes. Please. Just say yes.”
I look into those blue eyes, and of course there’s only one answer to give, when it’s the man God chose for me who’s asking it.
“I love you,” I whisper with a wobbly smile, “and y-yes, I’ll marry you.”
Epilogue
I’M SITTING IN FRONT of an ornate mirror while a stylist weaves tiny white flowers through my hair, and I still can’t quite believe this is happening.
Two months have passed since that night. Two months since Veil rode a horse through the dark to find me. Two months since he proposed under Wyoming stars and I said yes.
Two months of getting to know each other without the pressure of immediate deadlines. Of video calls when he had to return to England for business. Of planning a wedding that felt right instead of rushed. Of letting my heart heal from Joseph while simultaneously falling deeper in love with the man who sees me.
Two months of Lady Hampton becoming not just my employer but my friend. Of therapy sessions with a counselor in Foxtown who helped me process the invisibility complex I’d carried for so long. Of my mother flying in from Johannesburg last week, meeting Veil, giving her blessing with tears in her eyes.
Two months of growing certain.
And now I’m getting married.
In two hours.
To a duke.
The stylist steps back, admiring her work, and I stare at my reflection.
The flowers are delicate, romantic, woven through an elegant updo that makes me look like someone from a fairytale. The dress is one of Lady Hampton’s from her own wedding, altered to fit me. Simple but stunning. Ivory silk, fitted bodice, flowing skirt.
“You look beautiful,” the stylist says warmly. “The Duke won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
I smile, and my mind drifts through everything that’s happened since that night Veil proposed.
Joseph’s comeuppance, for one.
It’s not something I asked for or even prayed for, but vengeance is the Lord’s, and well...
A few days after the proposal, Joseph had tried to come back. Tried to manipulate, to make me feel guilty, to convince me I was making a mistake. And Veil, calm and controlled and absolutely lethal, had security escort him off the property.
Joseph tried to threaten legal action. Said he’d go to the media about “the Duke stealing his fiancée.”
Damian Fox, Foxtown’s owner, had smiled. The kind of smile that made Joseph go pale.