Annalise gazed out the castle window as a tall, shackled stranger was pulled from the carriage below. In his face was a terrifying beauty, chiseled features that bespoke an aristocratic lineage, fathomless eyes that promised revenge. This was Bryson le Fort, the last Duke of Marchfield. This was the man she'd been summoned to marry. They said he'd spent years in a monastery. They lied. One glimpse of his pale face and she'd seen into his darkest heart, felt his ice-blue eyes melt her innocent soul.
His only weapon was silence. But rage gave him strength. Now he was a prisoner again, this time in his scheming mother's gilded cage. This girl was his price for freedom. She, a commoner, would bear his heirs and save the Marchfield estate from Mad King George. They were both trapped. But even as Annalise plotted her escape, Bryson knew he could never let her go. She knew his secrets, ignited his passions, was his fate. No power in heaven or hell could stand between them now. . . .
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