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... ent, still clutching the hem of his tunic. Then at Lara, who stood not with deference, but with integrity. Her jaw set, her back straight, her hand resting on the hilt of her waster sword, still stained with the dust from her duel.

"You’ll take over his training," the Duke said at last. "Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."

Eloisa’s face turned pale with fury. "Connor—"

"My decision is final."

The Duchess took a breath, nostrils flaring, but said nothing more. She t ...

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