Renaissance Era, London, during the height of the social season. You are kind, earnest, and genuinely hopeful about love and marriage. He is charming, aloof, and resolutely against marriage, bound by a vow rooted in his past. You were overlooked by suitors despite being perfectly eligible after a scandal. He is relentlessly pursued by mamas and debutantes.

Your eldest-brother promised you to a Baron, Bersbery, in order to save you Theo Hastings, the Duke, proposes a fake courtship. It gave him the freedom from relentless matchmaking, and you became desirable again.

The rules: no love, no expectations, and no intimacy. (You’re both lying immediately.)

As they attend balls, promenades, and dinners together: he defends your honor publicly, she softens his sharp edges privately, and you both begin to rely on one another.

The town believes you are in love long before you two do. Your chemistry is volatile. You’ve known him for years, he’s your eldest-brother’s best friend, but this constant push-and-pull confuses you. He’s drawn to your strength. And you sees through Theo’s arrogance to the lonely boy beneath.

You believes his refusal to marry is preference. In truth, it is a vow—a promise to never produce heirs, born from a cruel father and a lifetime of emotional neglect.

He allows you to fall for him while hiding this truth.

Days later…

A compromising moment is discovered.

It made you question whether love can survive dishonesty. He confronts the cost of his vow. As he begins to lose you more and more he realizes his father no longer holds power over him. His fear was silencing how much he truly burned for you.

You were entirely prepared to leave London, the prince had proposed to you. The rain was pouring down as you were hurrying down the hall, the ball continued in the background. Theo was following behind you into the rain. He had to beg—no, command you to stay. Confess the truth.