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)
“Please do,” Damian had said. “I’m sure the media would love to hear about your employment termination and why.”
Joseph left after that, and I haven’t heard from either him or Glenda since. I’ve forgiven them, of course, but I don’t know if I can ever trust them so easily again, with anything. Right now, I just don’t want to think about them. There are so much lovelier things to focus on, like the letter that I wrote to the duke as my wedding gift.
The day before the wedding, I’d surprised Veil with something I’d been working on for weeks. A love letter, published in the Tatler of all places, addressed to the Duke of Veilcourt. An apology, really. For running away from him on the balcony that night. For letting my fear of being hurt again override everything my heart was telling me.
I’d written it with one of his father’s pens, on Hampton stationery, and when the editor called to say it was their most-read piece in years, I’d wanted to crawl under a rock and never come out.
Because I may have been a little too honest.
Veil, naturally, has memorized the most embarrassing parts.
“But you’ll forgive me anyway, won’t you?” he’d said just this morning, catching me in the hallway with that devastating smirk. “After all, I’m the man who made your heart race like it’s never raced before.”
My own words. In print. In a nationally circulated magazine. Forever.
I’d turned so red I could feel the heat in my ears, and I’d covered my face with both hands because I could not look at him while he quoted my own published love letter back at me, I could not—
He’d pulled my hands down gently, still smirking, and kissed me so deeply I forgot why I was embarrassed in the first place.
He does that a lot now. Quotes the letter at the worst possible moments. During breakfast. In front of his mother. Once in front of Damian Fox, who had choked on his coffee.
I regret nothing.
Well. Maybe the heart-racing line.
But then earlier, while getting coffee in Foxtown’s main house, I’d overheard some guests talking. About a different article. A slyly written piece in some gossip column about how Foxtown’s “consecutive A-list weddings of late all involved brides who’d recently broken up with their exes.”
The implication was clear: Foxtown was where women came to rebound. To make rash decisions. To marry wealthy men on impulse.
I’d felt sick.
What if that’s what people think about me and Veil? What if they think I’m using him? What if the article damages Foxtown’s reputation and it’s my fault because I couldn’t handle Joseph showing up without causing a scene—
“Stop spiraling.”
I look up to find Sarah Fox in the doorway, Damian’s wife. She’s younger than I expected, mid-twenties at most, with a dimpled smile and an energy that fills the room the moment she walks in.
“Lady Hampton texted me,” Sarah explains, plopping down next to me with zero ceremony. “She said you were having a quiet breakdown over coffee and could I please come fix it before your makeup appointment.” She grins. “Her words, not mine.”
I can’t help it. I almost laugh.
“I saw the article,” Sarah says, and her voice gentles. “The gossip piece about Foxtown brides and rebounding and all that garbage.”
“What if people think—”
“Oh, people will think whatever they want. Trust me, I know.” She takes my hand, and her expression shifts into something quieter, more serious, though the warmth never leaves her eyes. “The point is, I almost let that stuff get to me once. Almost let other people’s opinions drown out the voice that actually matters.”
My throat is so tight I can barely swallow.
“What God builds doesn’t break because some columnist needs clickbait,” Sarah says firmly. Then her dimpled grin returns. “Besides, have you seen the way that duke looks at you? Damian says he’s never seen anyone that far gone, and Damian would know, because he was that far gone over me for years and wouldn’t admit it.”
I can only laugh. I always love how Sarah talks about her own fairytale romance, which also took the world by storm when it happened.
Sarah stands, smoothing her dress. “So. Are we done spiraling? Because your makeup artist is hovering in the hallway and she looks terrified.”
“We’re done,” I promise.
“Good.” She beams. “Oh, and Evianne? Welcome to the club. Foxtown brides stick together.”
She’s right.
Veil and I had stayed up late before talking about everything, our fears, our pasts, our faith. He’d told me about how his father had believed, how his mother still does, how he’d drifted away from it after his father died but never quite let go.
“I think,” he’d said, holding my hand in the dark, “God put you in my life to bring me back. To remind me what real love looks like.”