Page 26 of The Duchess’ Little Miracle

He realized then that his new bride was thoroughly bizarre.

Most women of her standing, the few he had been forced to interact with over the years would be assessing the drapery, calculating the value of the family jewels, or dropping veiled hints about seasonal wardrobes and ball invitations. Seraphina, on the other hand, stood there on her wedding night, asking for the library.

It was, he had to admit, mildly entertaining. There was something about her honesty that appealed to the part of him that craved order. She said exactly what she thought, even when it was strange or inconvenient.

It was refreshing.

It was also deeply unsettling.

He couldn’t decide whether that kind of openness would make his life easier or simply replace one kind of chaos with another. He had invited her into his carefully ordered world, and now he was wondering if it was a brilliant decision or a spectacular mistake.

For now, she was an unknown, and he intended to keep observing until he understood exactly who she was.

“Very well,” William said, extending his arm slightly to indicate the corridor to the right. “Follow me.”

He led her down the long, high-ceilinged gallery of the east wing, where the portraits of previous Norwyn dukes stared down from frames. Seraphina did not linger on the paintings, nor did she spare a glance for the silver sconces or the marble busts lined up in the niches. Her focus was entirely forward.

At the end of the hall, William pushed open the double doors and stepped aside.

The Norwyn library was a two-story cavern, lined from floor to ceiling with thousands of volumes. A sweeping spiral staircase led to the upper gallery, and the unmistakable scent of aged paper, polished wood, and old ink filled the air. A single fire burned low in the grand stone fireplace, casting a warm glow across the room.

Seraphina stepped into the center of the room and simply stopped.

Her breath hitched softly. She looked up at the shelves, her eyes traveling from the highest ledgers to the lowest folios, taking in the magnitude of the collection.

Then, she turned back to face him.

The guarded, analytical expression she had worn all day disappeared in an instant. A smile spread across her face. It was bright, effortless, and completely it fit her. It transformed her, lighting up her features with such joy that William blinked...repeatedly.

For a moment, his mind struggled to catch up.

The composed, tightly controlled woman who had walked down the aisle of St. George’s was gone. In her place stood someone openly, almost fearlessly, delighted. He hadn’t expected her to change so completely.

“It is extraordinary,” she breathed, her voice dropping into an awed whisper as she looked back up at the shelves. “Simply extraordinary.”

William adjusted the cuffs of his coat, forcing his posture to straighten, though his pulse gave an uncharacteristic, unwelcome thud.

“It serves its purpose,” he said, watching her step further into the room.

Seraphina did not hear him, or if she did, she simply chose to ignore him. She walked down the middle aisle between the tall bookshelves, her skirts rustling softly against the floorboards. Her eyes moved quickly over the gold letters stamped onto the leather spines.

William stayed by the doors, his hands resting behind his back as he observed her. He was still trying to measure her. Seraphina stopped near the back corner, where the volumes on history and law were kept. She reached up and pulled a brown book from the shelf. She blew a light puff of air across the top edge, brushing away a thin layer of dust, and looked down at the title.

“A collection of essays on British law and trade,” she said, turning around to face him. Her voice had lost its wonder and returned to its usual sharp tone. “I did not think a man of your strict habits would keep books like this in his library.”

William crossed his arms over his chest, walking towards her. “Why is that? A man who manages thousands of acres of land must understand the rules of trade and government.”

“Well, understanding the rules is one thing,” Seraphina said, opening the book and flipping through the thick paper pages. “Supporting them without question is another.”

“You read it?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“Of course.”

William scoffed, closing the gap in the narrow space between two shelves. “That shouldn’t surprise me.”

“This book argues that the law should always protect the rich landowners, no matter how much it hurts the common workers. It says that keeping absolute order is more important than treating people fairly.”

“Because it is,” William said smoothly. “Order is what keeps a country running. If you allow every tenant farmer to question the rules whenever they feel wronged, the entire system collapses. A good leader makes decisions based on facts and numbers, not on feelings.”