The Duke Thought He Was Marrying An Ugly Girl, Until The Veil Lifted And His Life Fell Apart

Chapter 2

The carriage lurched forward, wheels grinding against wet stone. The sound of London faded — the hawkers, the horses, the distant church bells — replaced by the steady rhythm of hooves and the creak of wood and leather.

Alexander sat across from his bride, the folded paper burning in his palm, and for the first time in years, he did not know what to say.

Eloise sat with her hands folded in her lap, her posture perfect, her back straight against the cushioned seat. Her veil was gone now, set aside the moment they entered the carriage, and her face was fully visible in the gray light filtering through the rain-streaked window. She was even more beautiful without the lace. But there was nothing soft about her. Her jaw was set. Her eyes were steady. She looked like a general who had just won a battle and was waiting for the formal surrender.

The silence stretched. Alexander could hear his own pulse in his ears.

“You have something of mine,” Eloise said finally, her voice low and calm.

Alexander’s throat tightened. He lifted his hand slightly, showing the folded paper without opening it. “What is this?”