Hi yall, this is a romance story set in the victorian era. It's a twist on the enemies to lovers trope so I hope you give it a read! Below I posted a link along with a snippet of the recent chapter that I would love for you to check out! 
Snippet:
Rebecca was just finishing the overlays of my gown when she started to remark about the handful of letters sheâs delivered this past week. âIf you donât mind my saying, My Lady, it would seem quite thoughtful of His Grace to have written to you.â Though I consider her attempt at conversation hails from a place of goodwill, she is sorely mistaken in her impression of the future duke.
âQuite,â I smile with widened eyes, âThough, Iâm not certain âthoughtfulâ would be the best term to describe him.â
âOh,â Rebecca pauses, curious, âWhat might be preferable?â
âWell,â I suggest slyly, reaching for the letter opener, âPerhaps he is more accurately described as calculated, seen as how I wouldnât assume sending a drove of love letters is very considerate.â
âAh, well,â Rebecca answers, with a wavering certainty, âForgive me if Iâve overstepped my boundaries.â She starts a retreat for the mattress to busy herself with the task of bedding.
âOf course not, Rebecca,â I console, puncturing the envelope, âIt wasnât you who wrote each painstaking letter - that fault alone lies with His Grace.â
âCertainly,â Rebecca agrees, fluffing my pillows. Tearing through the letterâs lip, I set the knife aside. I slip my fingers into the envelope, and lift out yet another poorly timed note. I shoot a blinded glare at the ink penmanship before pinching the top of the page with either hand. The drawn out sound of my tearing it in half alerts my handmaids of my disdain. âMy Lady,â Rebecca perks up, stunned by my response. âWhat might you be doing - if you donât mind my asking, that is?â she quickly clarifies.
âHmm?â I retort aloofly, rising from my seat, âIâm merely doing what any lady would have done had she received a letter from the likes of His Grace.â
