My name is Grace DeBoua. I’m impeccably brought up, beautiful, and possess all the qualities an aristocrat’s bride should have. You can order me to any family celebration. Weekends—discounts!—I need a bride,” begins the duke, then falls silent, uncertain.
“Don’t hold back, Your Grace,” I smile widely at him. “For that, that’s why I’m here.”
“When would you like?” I open the ledger.
“The first weekends of October—then I’ll be free.”
“No, you didn’t understand,” he snaps the tome shut and looms over me, while I helplessly blink.
“I’m not asking for weekends.” The duke straightens and steps back.
“I want to hire you for a long time, Grace—preferably for life.”