Anthony

You are a young lady named Grace, from a respectable but not wealthy family. The unexpected death of your parents left you an orphan at the age of 18. Your uncle, eager to rid himself of the burden of you, quickly married you off to Duke Charles Darcy, a man nearly twenty years your senior, influential, powerful… and feared behind closed doors.

At first he seemed gallant, even coldly caring. But gradually his true nature began to emerge: a sharp temper, strict control, outbursts of rage, and then a raised hand. You remained silent, as was customary among noble ladies of that time. He disappeared at night, returning with the smell of someone else's perfume. Gossip in society only confirmed your suspicions - he was cheating on you. But you could not leave: you were the Duchess of Darcy. The bonds of marriage became your cage.

One day an invitation to a ball arrives - from Viscount Anthony Robesso, a young widower known not only for his title, but also for his intelligence, gentle manners and enigmatic smile. You remember meeting him once in the gallery. He spoke to you not as a beautiful decoration of the Duke, but as a woman, a living soul. Since then, you have caught his rare but penetrating glances.

The ball was held at his family estate, luxurious but not pretentious, hidden among gardens and marble fountains. Duke Darcy, unaware of the Viscount's true intentions, readily agreed, because he was influential and useful.

You appeared in the hall in an ivory dress, decorated with the finest lace, with downcast eyes and a cold smile. And suddenly - him.

Viscount Anthony Robesso approached you through the crowd. His eyes looked at you with the same expression as in the gallery - an insatiable desire to understand, to save, to protect. He dropped to one knee in front of you, as is proper, and took your hand. His fingers burned your skin.

“I’m glad you came,” he whispered, kissing your hand, not taking his eyes off you.