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the Villainess they took for granted

Chapter 144: His Grace, Duke Ashford · Oct 27, 2026

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Chapter List (304)

Page number / 7

101 Chapter 101: I Missed You 2026-10-27
102 Chapter 102: A Moment of Peace 2026-10-27
103 Chapter 103: The End of Questions 2026-10-27
104 Chapter 104: Beside Her 2026-10-27
105 Chapter 105: The First Move 2026-10-27
106 Chapter 106: The First Ripple 2026-10-27
107 Chapter 107: The Crown Prince Moves 2026-10-27
108 Chapter 108: The Last Olive Branch 2026-10-27
109 Chapter 109: Between Storms 2026-10-27
110 Chapter 110: The Name 2026-10-27
111 Chapter 111: The distance between us 2026-10-27
112 Chapter 112: What do you want? 2026-10-27
113 Chapter 113: Just Cassian 2026-10-27
114 Chapter 114: Then What? 2026-10-27
115 Chapter 115: The Audience 2026-10-27
116 Chapter 116: A Father’s Argument 2026-10-27
117 Chapter 117: And What of My Son? 2026-10-27
118 Chapter 118: Why Him? 2026-10-27
119 Chapter 119: If I Refuse 2026-10-27
120 Chapter 120: The Future 2026-10-27
121 Chapter 121: The Weight of a Crown 2026-10-27
122 Chapter 122: My Son Deserves Better 2026-10-27
123 Chapter 123: For the Best 2026-10-27
124 Chapter 124: Good News 2026-10-27
125 Chapter 125: The Road Ahead 2026-10-27
126 Chapter 126: Letting Go 2026-10-27
127 Chapter 127: The Proceedings 2026-10-27
128 Chapter 128: His Nephew 2026-10-27
129 Chapter 129: How Did This Happen? 2026-10-27
130 Chapter 130: My Brother’s Son 2026-10-27
131 Chapter 131: The Price 2026-10-27
132 Chapter 132: The Cost 2026-10-27
133 Chapter 133: Ashford House 2026-10-27
134 Chapter 134: Patience 2026-10-27
135 Chapter 135: Yours 2026-10-27
136 Chapter 136: Spring 2026-10-27
137 Chapter 137: The Invitation 2026-10-27
138 Chapter 138: The Season 2026-10-27
139 Chapter 139: Afterward 2026-10-27
140 Chapter 140: Questions 2026-10-27
141 Chapter 141: Attention 2026-10-27
142 Chapter 142: Answers 2026-10-27
143 Chapter 143: Waiting 2026-10-27
144 Chapter 144: His Grace, Duke Ashford 2026-10-27
145 Chapter 145: Home 2026-10-27
146 Chapter 146: Welcome Home 2026-10-27
147 Chapter 147: The Space Between Them 2026-10-27
148 Chapter 148: This Dance 2026-10-27
149 Chapter 149: Reality Returns 2026-10-27
150 Chapter 150: The Ring 2026-10-27

Chapter 144: Chapter 144: His Grace, Duke Ashford

Two days later, Adrian discovered that society’s predictions were apparently useless.

The realization arrived in the form of a simple announcement.

One he had not expected to hear quite so soon.

The reception itself had been entirely ordinary.

The sort of gathering Adrian attended because duty required it.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Conversations drifted around him.

Music played softly somewhere in the background.

Noblemen discussed trade.

Ladies discussed society.

Adrian paid attention to very little of it.

His attention had developed unfortunate habits lately.

Most of them involved Marian.

The realization remained irritating.

He had seen her shortly after arriving.

Blue tonight.

A darker shade than usual.

The color suited her.

An equally irritating realization.

At this point Adrian suspected he could identify half her wardrobe from memory.

A deeply troubling development.

Fortunately, he had spent the last two days successfully avoiding thoughts about Ashford.

Or at least attempting to.

Unfortunately, the effort proved short-lived.

”His Grace, Duke Ashford.”

For one brief moment, Adrian thought he had misheard.

The reaction annoyed him immediately.

Because he had only recently heard rumors of Ashford’s impending return.

A few weeks, society had claimed.

Apparently society had been wrong.

The ballroom shifted.

Not dramatically.

Not enough to violate etiquette.

Yet enough.

Conversations faltered.

Attention drifted.

A familiar name carried weight.

Adrian’s gaze moved instinctively.

Not toward the entrance.

Toward Marian.

And froze.

She had stopped moving.

The reaction lasted only a heartbeat.

Yet it was enough.

The fan in her hand stilled.

The conversation around her ceased to matter.

Her eyes lifted.

And suddenly something changed.

The transformation was immediate.

And unmistakable.

Surprise.

Relief.

Happiness.

Then something brighter.

Something Adrian could not quite name.

The effect was astonishing.

Marian had smiled throughout the entire Season.

None of those smiles resembled this one.

Adrian should have looked away.

Instead he continued watching.

The decision was unfortunate.

Because every passing second seemed determined to make the situation worse.

Marian was trying to compose herself.

He could see the effort.

And he could see it failing.

The smile kept returning.

She looked away from the entrance.

Then back again.

Adjusted her gloves.

Adjusted her fan.

Then appeared to forget she was holding either.

The sight was so unlike her that Adrian found himself staring.

For eighteen years he had known Marian.

Long enough to recognize every variation of her smile.

Long enough to recognize when she was amused.

Polite.

Annoyed.

Embarrassed.

This was none of those.

The realization settled somewhere unpleasant.

Because he had never seen this expression before.

Not once.

Not in eighteen years.

The thought should have been impossible.

Yet it remained.

And somehow that made looking away even harder.

The ballroom continued around them.

Conversations resumed.

Music played.

People moved.

Adrian noticed none of it.

His attention remained fixed on Marian.

The situation became increasingly uncomfortable.

Not because she was doing anything improper.

Quite the opposite.

Because she looked happy.

Genuinely happy.

And for reasons Adrian preferred not to examine, the sight felt strangely difficult to endure.

Others had noticed as well.

The realization became obvious through small things.

A paused conversation.

A knowing glance.

A smile hidden behind a fan.

Nothing overt.

Nothing impolite.

Yet enough.

Enough for Adrian to realize he was not the only person watching Marian.

The realization finally forced Adrian’s gaze elsewhere.

A mistake.

Because there was only one place it could go.

Toward the entrance.

Toward Cassian.

For one brief moment, the name arrived naturally.

His cousin.

The man he had grown up with.

The moment lasted only a heartbeat.

Then memory returned.

The lodge.

The warning.

The months that followed.

And suddenly Ashford felt significantly more appropriate.

His cousin stood near the entrance.

Accepting greetings.

Acknowledging acquaintances.

Observing every expectation society placed upon him.

Calm.

Composed.

Entirely too calm.

Adrian disliked the sight immediately.

Because Ashford looked entirely untroubled.

As though nothing had changed.

As though the past year had not happened.

As though he had not spent months quietly pursuing another man’s fiancée.

The ballroom saw a respectable duke.

Adrian saw a snake.

The realization irritated him immediately.

Not because it was new.

It wasn’t.

Adrian had reached that conclusion long ago.

Nothing that followed had changed it.

Not the explanations.

Not the passage of time.

Because the facts remained irritatingly simple.

Marian had been his fiancée.

Ashford had known that.

Ashford had known exactly how Adrian felt about her.

And somehow none of it had stopped him.

Perhaps that was the part Adrian found most difficult to forgive.

Not the love itself.

The fact that it had persisted anyway.

The memory remained as aggravating now as it had been then.

Particularly because Ashford continued behaving as though there were nothing to regret.

Nothing to explain.

Nothing to be ashamed of.

The sight irritated Adrian far more than it should have.

Ashford’s attention shifted.

Only briefly.

Only for a moment.

Yet Adrian noticed.

Because he knew exactly where it landed.

Marian.

The realization irritated him immediately.

Because suddenly everything made sense.

The smile.

The excitement.

The inability to remain still.

The unmistakable brightness that had followed her through the past weeks.

The answer had been standing at the northern border.

And now it had returned.

Ashford resumed moving.

Toward the hosts.

Toward the required greetings.

Toward every obligation etiquette demanded.

Perfect.

Naturally.

Predictably perfect.

The sight irritated Adrian immediately.

Because Ashford was giving him absolutely nothing to criticize.

Nothing to object to.

Nothing to condemn.

The man was behaving exactly as he should.

Which was profoundly inconvenient.

Eventually Ashford would approach Marian.

Of course he would.

The realization should not have bothered Adrian.

Instead it prompted a different question.

What exactly had Adrian been doing these past six weeks?

The thought made little sense.

Because it implied there had been something to do.

Something to accomplish.

The realization irritated him immediately.

Accomplish what?

The answer refused to appear.

Which somehow made the question even more aggravating.

Across the ballroom, Marian laughed.

The sound carried faintly through the music.

Ashford had not even spoken to her yet.

And somehow she already looked happier than she had all evening.

For reasons Adrian preferred not to examine, that realization lingered.

Long after it should have faded.

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