Page 60 of A Wallflower's Convenient Duke
As her fingertips brushed the edge of a carved relic, her heart swelled with something deeper than joy. It was belonging. It was home. The study, once a chamber of doubts and closed doors, now stood as a sanctuary—a place where the past and present twined together in perfect harmony.
Philip stepped closer, lifting her hand to his lips. His voice was low and laced with affectionate reverence.
“Blanche… you are the greatest antiquity I have ever acquired.”
A laugh escaped her, choked by emotion. She shook her head, both amused and deeply moved. “You cannot collect me like one of your artefacts,” she teased gently.
“No,” he agreed. “But I can treasure you.”
And in that room, surrounded by the echoes of centuries past and the silent witness of ancient stone, Blanche realised something else: the future—still unwritten, still uncertain—was no longer something to fear.
Not with this man at her side.
They had been thrown together by chance, bound by circumstance, tested by betrayal. But here, in this quiet moment, they were no longer pieces of a fractured puzzle. They were whole. And whatever came next, they would face it as one.
Together.
