Page 138 of Secluded with the Rogue

Chapter 1

L ady Genevieve Carrington stood before the mirror, adjusting the delicate lace trim of her gown in preparation for the annual winter ball at her family’s estate. The ballroom below was already bustling with excitement, servants rushing to ensure everything was perfect for the prestigious event. Yet despite the hum of activity around her, Genevieve’s thoughts were miles away, lost in memories of the last time she had truly felt excited for such an occasion.

That had been five years ago, before her heart had been shattered.

Pushing the memory aside, she took a deep breath and smoothed the front of her dress. Tonight would be no different than the many balls that had passed in the years since. She would smile, she would dance, and she would keep her heart safely guarded. No one could hurt her again, not like he had.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She turned, expecting to see one of the servants come to inform her that the first guests had arrived. Instead, her younger brother, Henry, entered the room with a slight look of unease on his face.

“Genevieve,” he began, his voice hesitant, “I thought you should know… There has been an unexpected arrival.”

Genevieve raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Unexpected? Who?”

Henry shifted on his feet. “Lord Alexander Wycliffe. He is here.”

The name struck her like a physical blow. Her hand instinctively clutched at the vanity table beside her for support. She had not heard his name spoken in her presence for years, and she had not allowed herself to think of him, at least not in any way that did not accompany the sting of betrayal.

Alexander Wycliffe. The man who had once held her heart, only to discard it as if it had meant nothing. And now he had returned?

She met Henry’s gaze, her voice sharp despite the tightness in her throat. “What is he doing here?”

Henry shifted uncomfortably. “He has just returned after his father’s death. He is the duke now, Genevieve. It seems… appropriate that he has come to pay his respects, even if it is unexpected.”

The air seemed to still around her as the weight of Henry’s words settled. Alexander was no longer simply Lord Wycliffe. He was now the Duke of Harbeck, a title that only reminded her how different their lives had become.

Genevieve clenched her fists, willing herself to stay composed. It should not matter. She had moved on—or at least, she had convinced herself of that. But the sudden appearance of the man who had broken her heart had sent everything into turmoil.

She straightened her spine, determined not to let his presence affect her.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said coolly, masking the storm of emotions inside. “I will be down shortly.”

Henry hesitated, sensing the tension, but eventually nodded and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Genevieve stared at her reflection, her chest rising and falling as she fought for control. So, Alexander Wycliffe had returned. Freshly titled, perhaps, and wrapped in the grief of his father’s death, but it did not change the fact that he had hurt her deeply. It did not change the fact that she had hated him for it for the past five years.

Tonight, she would face him. But she would do so with her head held high. She was no longer the na?ve girl he had once known. Whatever he wanted, she would not allow him the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

With one final glance at her reflection, she left the room, steeling herself for what lay ahead.