The Wedding Night Began in Heavy Silence—Until the Duke Saw the Scars She Tried So Hard to Hide

Chapter 2

Morning in Texas came pale and slow, and Clara woke to the soft clatter of dishes. A young maid with downcast eyes set a tray on the bedside table — eggs, warm bread, coffee — and beside the plate lay a folded note in a clean, careful hand. Clara opened it with trembling fingers and read it twice before the words settled.

Ma’am, I have business in town today and will return after sundown. I have sent for Nan Keene to stay with you. You may trust her. She will not be sent away unless you wish it. — G. Boone

Nan Keene. The name hit her like a hand on her shoulder. She had not heard that name spoken in seven years. A quarter hour later, when the sitting-room door opened, there she stood: older, slower, silver-haired, but with the same warm eyes that had held Clara while she bled on the cold stone steps at nineteen.