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Chapter 1 - The Proposal

She'd heard whispers from the servants, but none of them were enough to quench her curiosity.

Another suitor had arrived. And from the expensive carriage in the driveway, she was certain it was another wealthy family of the peerage.

And… her father would try to pressure her into marrying whoever it was.

Again.

She rolled her eyes.

Everetta had been sitting by the window with an unread book in her hands for the better part of the morning. Her life was gradually becoming a dull affair of sitting through marriage proposals and refusing them at the end.

No matter how wealthy they were. No matter how angry it made her father.

Everyone thought she looked down on their sons because she considered herself too beautiful to wed them.

But only she knew the truth.

It was because of…

A knock on the door heralded her out of her thoughts. The idle book fell out of her grasp and she immediately reached down for it.

When she looked up, her hair was a tangled mess in her face.

"Good morning, my lady." Agnes, her lady's maid said, her voice warm.

Eve nodded, settling back into the cushioned chair and pulling her hair away from her face.

"My lady…" Agnes' voice faltered.

Eve dropped the book on the window sill and stood up, smoothing the creases on her dress automatically.

"Another suitor? My father sent for me? My goodness, Agnes, stop acting like I'll throw my hairpin into your neck when you bring word from my father."

Agnes coloured, a nervous smile playing on her lips.

"Yes… they want to meet you." Agnes finally said after a long pause.

Eve let out a long sigh.

"Then, let's meet them." She started moving, not bothering to change her dress or brush her messy tresses into order.

Agnes blocked the doorway.

"You should change. The guests below aren't like the others… you might want to impress them."

Eve laughed, a brief and dry sound. Her hand shot out and gripped the bedpost engraved with her initials to support herself.

Then, she looked down at what she was wearing.

It was a nice morning dress, sapphire lace and no frocks or frills. Very suitable in her humblest opinion.

"I beg to disagree."

"At least… let me brush your hair, my lady." Agnes all but begged when she realized that she was losing the argument.

Eve sank into the cushioned seat of the vanity table with a soft thud.

"Any style you prefer?" Agnes asked, already sinking the teeth of the brush through her hair.

Eve leaned her head back and shook her head, making eye contact with Agnes through the looking glass before her.

Agnes looked flustered - she never did. Her face was flushed, enhancing her light freckles, and her eyes held a subtle sense of dread.

"Who exactly is waiting for me below?" She finally asked.

Agnes didn't answer, instead, her strokes became more purposeful before she pinned it above her nape.

"They are waiting, my lady." Agnes muttered as she eyed Eve's dress one last time.

The walk down the stairway was tiring, but her curiosity had the better of her.

The grand receiving room loomed at the end of the hallway.

Why did she feel unsettled? It was 'her' home, not the other way around.

She ran her fingers along the smooth stone walls to ground herself as she walked.

A few servants scurried past her in their silver dresses, muttering greetings and skirting shallow curtsies to her.

She barely acknowledged them as she pushed the large double doors and stepped into the room.

It was warmer within, the hearth had been lit even though most of the drapes had been drawn to invite the bright sunlight.

Her mother sat on the cushion farthest away from the hearth while her father stood beside her chair.

Across the room from them was the visiting family.

Not just any family.

Her eyes moved among the guests and landed on him.

It couldn't be him…

What was he doing in her home?

She cast a glance at her parents, silently demanding an introduction.

Her father quickly cleared his throat.

All the men stood in acknowledgement of her presence… including him.

"Lady Everetta Whitmore, a delight to make your acquaintance at last." Friedrich, the older son said, taking her ungloved hand in his.

His eyes raked over her plain gown slowly, lingering longer than it should have.

She offered him a small smile, her eyes fixed on anything but his brother behind him.

Their father sat close to the hearth, a blanket draped around his knees.

"The Grand Duke decided to come himself." Her father teased and both men laughed.

The Duke sat erect with much struggle, a slow smile on his features. "I had to come myself and see if she really would reject my son's proposal."

Eve coloured instantly.

Her eyes slowly returned to their initial target.

Theodore.

Theodore Von Virchow.

The man whose name was engraved next to hers on her bedpost.

He leaned down and adjusted the blanket over his father's knees, completely unaware of her stare.

Father and son exchanged a meaningful look before he pulled away and took his place beside his brother.

Part of her expected him to acknowledge her presence the way his brother had done, but it was wishful thinking on her part.

"Which of them intends to marry me?"

Laughter rolled through the room at her question.

Eve blinked slowly.

What was so funny?

"I'm the one who intends to wed you, Lady Whitmore." Friedrich stepped forward, the full weight of his gaze on her.

"You can't expect to waste your beauty on my cockless son, can you?" The Duke said, choking on his laughter.

Her father forced a smile at the comment and Theodore averted his gaze.

Everetta moved to the unoccupied cushion and settled into it quietly.

She wasn't marrying Theo. She was marrying his brother.

But that meant that she could see him everyday - which was more that the distant looks she had sustained herself with for the past thirteen years.

Nonetheless, it was a dangerous thing to consider.

His brother was everything she should have wanted, but her mind was fixed on the man behind him.

The untouchable gentleman among the seasoned bachelors.

"What say you, dear girl?" The Duke asked, bending over as a harsh cough racked through him.

When she looked up from the pattern of the Persian rug she had been pretending to study, she caught him looking at her.

With those cold grey eyes of his. The glance didn't last longer than a second, but it did something to her.

Something that made her want to do something foolish and incredibly reckless.

Her mother's face was pale as she waited for the traumatizing words from her only daughter.

"Before you refuse me, give me a chance to court you, my lady. You might find me very… charming." Friedrich said with a wink, his voice silky.

Eve coloured despite herself.

She looked between the two men, noting their close resemblance, yet the striking differences in their features.

Friedrich had a certain charm about him, bright and laughing blue eyes the colour of the ocean, a stature that put most dressmakers to shame even in a simple grey brocade and black breeches.

Theo on the other hand looked distant and cold, his eyes the colour of ash and smoke. Same build, although Theo was nearly a head taller, same skin tone, same hair colour. But Friedrich grew his hair longer - almost like a woman's.

Her father cleared his throat, his grip on her mother's chair tightening.

"I will marry him." Everetta said at last.

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