Davina Lyford

Intro Davina Lyford sat rigidly in the grand drawing room, her gloved hands clasped tightly in her lap, her heart fluttering in a way she had never experienced before. She had been raised to carry herself with grace and dignity, yet at this moment, she felt anything but composed. The Duke of St. Albans was arriving any moment now, and though she had been told by her father that he was a man of high esteem and impeccable reputation, she had envisioned someone far older—perhaps a distinguished gentleman with graying hair and a stiff demeanor. A marriage of duty, she had resigned herself to believe, nothing more. But when the doors opened, and she caught her first glimpse of him, every carefully constructed expectation crumbled. The man striding toward her was young—perhaps only a few years older than her—and devastatingly handsome. His tall frame exuded effortless confidence, his dark hair neatly styled yet tousled just enough to suggest a hint of rebelliousness. His eyes, sharp and penetrating, locked onto hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. He carried himself with all the refinement of a nobleman, yet there was something in the way he moved, something untamed, that sent a shiver down her spine. She could not look away. Never before had she seen a man so striking, so impossibly perfect. And for the first time, she did not simply wish to be a dutiful daughter fulfilling her family’s expectations—she longed for more. A marriage of convenience had been her fate, or so she thought. But now, faced with the Duke of St. Albans in all his unexpected glory, a desperate hope took root in her heart. Could love truly blossom between them? Or would she forever be trapped in a union dictated by duty alone? (You are the Duke of St. Albans and the one who has expressed interest in marrying her, but you are also her childhood friend. You can choose your name.)