Chapter 5: The Duke’s First Gift
986 Words
Eleanor stirred, warmth surrounding her as she woke in the Duke’s grand bed. The fire had long since dimmed, but his presence still lingered—on the sheets, in the air, and deep within her thoughts.
She turned slightly, blinking against the morning light.
Alexander was gone.
But she wasn’t alone.
A heavy fur-lined cloak had been draped over her, the faint scent of cedarwood and smoke clinging to the fabric. A silent gesture of care.
She sat up slowly, fingers brushing over the delicate string still tied around her finger.
She needed a proper ring.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the door creaked open.
Eleanor looked up just in time to see him.
Alexander strode inside, his black coat unbuttoned, the crisp white shirt beneath slightly loosened at the collar. His dark hair was slightly tousled from the morning breeze, his sharp gaze immediately finding hers.
"You’re awake," he murmured, shutting the door behind him.
She nodded. "I—yes."
He studied her for a moment before stepping forward. "Get dressed."
She hesitated. "For what?"
His lips curled slightly at the edges—not quite a smile, but something close.
"You need a ring," he said simply. "And I have other things to buy you."
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The streets of the city were alive with morning bustle, merchants setting up their stalls as the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted chestnuts filled the air.
Eleanor sat beside Alexander in the carriage, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
She could feel the weight of his gaze.
"Are you nervous?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No."
He exhaled softly. "Good."
When they arrived, a man with round spectacles and a waistcoat rushed forward.
"My Lord Duke!" The jeweler bowed hastily, nearly tripping over himself. "To what do I owe the honor?"
Alexander didn’t answer.
He simply lifted Eleanor’s hand and pulled the frayed string from her finger.
She sucked in a breath.
The intimacy of the motion caught her off guard. The way his fingers lingered, the way his thumb brushed over her bare skin before releasing her hand.
The jeweler gawked.
"My Lord Duke… is this—?"
"My wife," Alexander cut in. "She needs a ring. Show us your best."
The jeweler scrambled, unlocking the glass cases with shaking hands. Inside, rows of glittering rings sat beneath candlelight—diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires.
Eleanor hesitated.
She had never owned anything this beautiful.
"Choose one," Alexander murmured.
She swallowed. "I… I don’t know which to pick."
Without hesitation, he reached forward, his fingers brushing over the collection before stopping on a single piece.
A thin gold band with a deep sapphire.
He lifted it, turning to her.
"This one," he said.
She frowned slightly. "Why?"
He glanced at the ring before returning his gaze to hers.
"Because sapphires remind me of you."
Her breath caught.
The jeweler stood frozen, watching the exchange as if witnessing something far more intimate than a simple transaction.
Eleanor swallowed.
She had no words.
So she simply lifted her hand.
Alexander slid the ring onto her finger with slow, deliberate precision.
A perfect fit.
"Good," he murmured, his voice satisfied.
The jeweler cleared his throat, visibly shaken. "A-A fine choice, My Lord Duke."
Alexander ignored him.
His eyes were still on Eleanor.
On the ring.
On the silent promise it carried.
He tossed a pouch of gold onto the counter. "Send the rest of your finest pieces to the manor."
The jeweler nearly collapsed.
Eleanor blinked. "The rest?"
Alexander turned smoothly toward her.
"You’ll need more jewelry," he said simply.
Her lips parted, but before she could argue, he took her hand again and led her from the shop.
The shopping trip didn’t end with the ring.
As they walked through the marketplace, Alexander bought her everything.
A velvet cloak? Purchased.
A silk gown embroidered with golden threads? Paid for without hesitation.
A set of hairpins? Added to the growing collection.
It didn’t matter if she barely glanced at something—he noticed.
And he bought it.
At one point, she sighed softly. "You don’t have to buy everything."
He barely looked at her.
"I do," he said simply.
She frowned. "Why?"
His gaze flicked toward her, dark and unwavering.
"Because you are mine."
A slow warmth curled through her chest.
She had no response.
Because she knew he wouldn’t change his mind.
By the time they returned to the estate, the sun was already beginning to set.
Eleanor sat beside Alexander in the carriage, her body warm from the weight of his coat draped over her shoulders.
The air between them was quiet, steady.
Until he spoke.
"Are you tired?"
She hesitated. "A little."
Alexander exhaled. "Then rest."
She frowned. "I don’t—"
Before she could finish, he pulled her against him.
Eleanor froze.
His arms wrapped around her waist, steady, unrelenting.
The warmth of him seeped into her.
She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek.
It was slow. Certain.
She hesitated for only a second before allowing herself to relax.
She had never been held like this.
Never felt the kind of security he gave her.
And before she even realized it—her eyes fluttered closed.
Alexander didn’t move as Eleanor drifted into sleep against him.
He kept one arm around her, the other resting against his thigh as the carriage continued down the road.
His fingers tapped against the sapphire ring on her hand.
A strange, foreign satisfaction settled in his chest.
He had given her a name. A title. A home.
And now, he had given her a ring.
Something that marked her as his.
Something that would never be removed.
His grip around her waist tightened slightly.
She had fallen asleep against him without fear.
Without hesitation.
That, more than anything, was dangerous.
She trusted him.
She belonged to him.
And Alexander never let go of what was his.
- Writer
