Sophia was busy preparing for the first lesson of the day with Sarah when a knock at the door came. Looking up, expecting it to be the nurse or a footman, she was astonished to see none other than the duke step inside the schoolroom.

“Your grace,” she exclaimed, blushing furiously, as he took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I mean, Matthew…” She trailed off, the name still sounding unfamiliar to her lips whilst a rush of heat shot up her arm and pooled in her core. She looked into his blue eyes and saw them almost glimmer with something like excitement or anticipation. His promise to ensure that her difficult situation would come to an end by this evening had been like a candle held up in the midst of darkness, giving her hope when everything had seemed black. She could not help but give him both her trust and her heart. He had treated her with more respect, more consideration than her own brother, despite her lower place in his household.

“Sophia, how are you?” he asked softly, reaching for her hand and pressing it gently. “I have some news. Are you able to speak with me for a moment?”

“Of course,” she breathed, finding herself growing more and more nervous as she looked up into his face. What was it he intended? How was he to resolve the situation?”

His expression grew solemn. “I regret to inform you, Sophia, that I can no longer keep you on as governess.”

Sophia stared at him in shock, her face paling as he held her hands tightly.

“I cannot let the woman I love be a hired worker in my house,” he continued, as she closed her eyes in relief. “Sophia, we have to consider the future.”

Her legs were weak, making her sway slightly, as she tried to regain her composure. For a second, she had thought he intended to push her from his house, that she would have nowhere to go, but then the reassurance had returned to her heart. Of course, he would not do such a thing as that.

“Sophia,” he said again, looking down into her eyes. “I believe myself to be falling in love with you. You have brought delight and happiness into my home and made my daughter an even brighter star than she already was. I cannot think of my home without you.”

Confusion reigned. Shaking her head, Sophia frowned, her forehead creasing. “But I cannot remain here if I am not employed by you,” she said slowly. “I will have to go back to–”

“No,” he interrupted firmly. “You will never have to go back to your brother. Sophia, if you will accept, I intend to make you the Duchess of Harrogate.”

She blinked, her legs refusing to hold her weight for a moment. The duke caught her tightly, her hands curling around the edge of his waistcoat as she held onto him tightly. The words he’d said resonated in her mind over and over, until she had no choice but to accept them.

The Duke of Harrogate wanted her as his bride. As his wife.

“I will have the banns called this Sunday, and we shall be wed in a fortnight,” he whispered in her ear, his arms holding her tightly. “What do you say, my love? Will you have me?”

It had all happened so quickly that, for a moment, Sophia was struck dumb. To become his wife would be the happiest moment of her life thus far, and she could not even think of refusing.

“Are you sure, Matthew?” she whispered, her throat aching with a sudden yet wonderful ache of happiness. “We have not been all that well acquainted.”

“Something I fully intend to rectify in the next few weeks,” he assured her, smiling. “Sophia, I did not love my first wife. She was, by all accounts, a genteel, proper lady, but that was all I knew of her. We did not spend time together; we did not so much as converse on a regular basis. When she found she was pregnant, we spent even less time together. I never had the urge to know her more, and she did not feel that for me either. It was all very convenient, very neat. That is not the case with you. I feel such a fire burning whenever I see you, and my desire is only to be with you. I want to spend hours talking with you, to have you in my company as my wife and not the governess. I know that my love will grow all the more, for I do not think I have ever felt such happiness in my life before.”

Sophia closed her eyes to stop her tears from escaping, her lips curving into a beautiful smile. Her arms wrapped around his neck, a sigh of contentedness escaping her.

“Does this mean that you accept?” the duke asked softly, his lips whispering across her forehead. “You will have me?”

“I will,” Sophia whispered, her lips finally meeting his for a brief, gentle kiss.

They stood there for a long time, wrapped in one another’s arms and simply considering the life that now lay out before them. Sophia did not think she had ever been so happy, her very being seeming to come alive with sheer joy. She would be wife to a man she loved and mother to a girl she had come to care for so very deeply. Her brother and sister-in-law would have no grounds to come to her, to insist that she do whatever they say. She had nothing left to fear. The duke had taken care of it all.

“Now,” he murmured, finally taking a step back. “I have already had your things moved. You are to have a proper bedchamber, as becomes your new station as my betrothed, and there is a bath being drawn for you. A maid will come to dress your hair, and Arthur is returning this very moment with a few new gowns for you. Although, you shall order yourself as many as you wish once the guests have left us. I think you more beautiful than anyone in your governess’s dress, but I do not think it will be appropriate for dinner tonight, do you?”

Blushing furiously, Sophia laughed softly. “I do have some of my other gowns with me from home. Just a couple I could never bear to part with.”

“That does not matter,” he replied firmly. “You are to have a brand-new gown of the highest fashion so that I may present you this evening to the rest of my guests as my betrothed.”

The thought had her worried for a moment, but he brushed it away with a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Arthur will stay on with us until the wedding, so you need not worry about lack of propriety,” he said gently. “Sarah will be delighted, I am sure. Although, now I realize I must find her a new governess!” He chuckled, as she opened her mouth to protest, patting her hand. “Come with me, my love. I will show you to your new rooms so that you might begin to get ready. Tonight is the night when all shall be revealed, when your brother and his devious wife will realize that their schemes will no longer be tolerated.”

A flash of anger crossed his face, and Sophia felt a shiver creep up her spine.

He kissed her again, a little more firmly this time, and it was all Sophia could do not to melt into his arms. Within a few minutes, they had left the schoolroom behind, walking together to her new rooms within the main part of the house. She was no longer a governess. She was Miss Sophia Weston, the bride-to-be of the Duke of Harrogate. Sophia felt herself practically glow with happiness.

“Is this all right, miss?”

Sophia blinked at her reflection as the maid finished putting the last of a few incandescent pearls into her hair. It had been washed and dried and was now pulled up onto the top of her hair in an elaborate style, with a cascade of curls falling down onto her neck whilst still away from her face. A few gentle golden tendrils curled around her ears, reaching down to where a stunning diamond necklace lay. Sophia barely recognized herself.

“Thank you,” she breathed, pressing one hand to her chest as she struggled to keep her composure. “You have done a marvelous job.”

“And just in time too, miss,” the maid replied, as a quiet knock sounded at the door. “I think you are quite ready.”

Standing up carefully, her feet in soft slippers, Sophia made her way to the door and opened it, finding the duke standing there with his back to her. He turned around at once, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open as he took her in. Blushing furiously, Sophia saw him swallow hard, his mouth closing as he let out a long breath.

“My goodness,” he muttered, shaking his head. “How am I meant to speak coherently with you by my side, Sophia? You take my breath away.”

Looking down at the emerald gown that encased her frame, Sophia spread her arms wide. “Your brother chose wonderfully, Matthew.”

The duke chuckled and offered her his arm, which she took at once. “Do not think that Arthur had anything to do with it, my love. Most likely, the seamstress chose for him.”

“I will be sure to send her my thanks,” Sophia murmured, as they made their way down the staircase, one hand pressed lightly against her middle, as she fought to keep her nerves at bay.

As though he knew what she was feeling, the duke stopped at the bottom of the stairs, reaching for her free hand and taking both in his. “My dear, you have nothing to worry about. You will be the talk of the town, I am sure of it, whilst your brother will scuttle back to his manor house in disgrace. I cannot tell you how proud I am to have you on my arm. You have made me the happiest man in England.”

Pressing his lips to her cheek for a moment, he smiled into her eyes, giving her the courage she needed. Lifting her chin a notch, she took his arm and began to walk forward toward the drawing room where the rest of the guests would be waiting to go through to dinner.

The door opened for them, and Sophia felt her stomach tighten as she walked inside. The small gathered crowd turned as one to look at them both, and Sophia felt her smile become fixed. She had no idea what any of them were thinking and did not dare ask.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present a somewhat late arrival to our party,” the duke said, patting her hand. “This is Miss Sophia Weston. My betrothed.”

A ripple of surprise ran around the room, but to Sophia’s relief, no one appeared shocked or discomfited in any way by the announcement. In fact, most of the ladies there were smiling at her.

“Is your brother not here, Miss Weston?” she heard Arthur say, her eyes traveling across the room to find the duke’s brother. He was leaning on the mantlepiece, a grin on his face. “Lord Brookridge, where are you? Are you not to offer congratulations to your sister?”

Sophia swallowed hard, as her brother and sister-in-law stepped forward, both with rather white faces and the viscountess with pursed lips. They did not look pleased in the slightest.

Before she could speak, the duke cleared his throat, capturing the room’s attention once more.

“Unfortunately, I think I shall have to ask you both to leave my house this very night, Lord Brookridge.”

An audible gasp came from the rest of the guests, as they looked from one to the next.

“It is my sad duty to inform you all that Lord and Lady Brookridge threatened to spread rumors all around London about myself, so much so that my daughter would not be able to enjoy her come out when the time came,” the duke continued steadily, as the guests continued to look from one to the next. “I will not go into the specifics as to why you intended to do such a thing, but be assured that I will not allow it to stand.”

“How dare you threaten a duke with such a thing, Brookridge!” Arthur exclaimed, coming away from the mantlepiece and striding toward them. “You ought to be run out of this place!”

The murmurs of the guests began to grow somewhat louder and angrier. Pointing fingers jabbed in the viscount’s direction, who, to his own failing, did nothing to deny what had been said.

“You have failed in your scheme, Brookridge,” the duke continued calmly. “Now, pack your things and get out. You and I will never cross paths again.”

Sophia watched as her brother’s face paled all the more, his eyes turning from Sophia to the duke and back again. He had no real courage in the face of the duke’s anger, whilst the viscountess appeared to have nothing at all to say. It was as though she realized that her standing and her influence were now entirely ruined. There was no doubt that the news of what they had tried to do would spread all around London and Bath, meaning that she would not be able to show her face there for a good many years.

“Goodbye, Peter,” she said softly, as her brother stumbled toward the door. He paused and looked back at her, his jaw working, but finding nothing to say, he quit the room.

A sense of relief washed all through Sophia the moment the door closed, and she felt herself slump inwardly. The room was abuzz with chatter, questions being thrown at both herself and the duke, none of which she could bring herself to answer.

“Now, now!” the duke called, bringing the room to quiet. “I know there is a great deal that must be asked and explained, but can I suggest we go through to eat? I would much rather explain it all over a good meal!”

There were a few chuckles, and after a moment or two, the guests began to file out of the room. Sophia felt her hand pressed, her cheek kissed, and whispers of congratulations filling her ears. Her happiness knew no bounds; her heart freed entirely of the shackles it had once been held in.

“My dear Sophia,” the duke murmured, as the last of the guests quit the room. “You have shown so much courage and fortitude that I confess myself almost in awe of you.” He turned to face her, smiling down gently. “You have a beauty in your character that draws me nearer to you every day. Sarah loves you and cannot wait for you to be a permanent part of her life.” He swallowed, his fingers reaching up to gently lift her chin. “I love you so much, Sophia. I cannot wait to make you my wife.”

Thinking that she had never experienced such joy before, Sophia smiled back at him, her fingers twined with his. “And I cannot wait to be your bride,” she whispered, seeing her bright and happy future in his eyes. “I love you, Matthew. With all of my heart.”