Page 102 of The Duke's Jilted Bride

Or if that failed, he would need to make a far more painful choice. The thought of life without Selina carved a hollow space in his chest, but the alternative, her death because of his enemies, was unthinkable.

“Get some rest,” Felix urged. “You can’t help her if you collapse.”

Rowan shook his head. “I won’t leave her.”

Felix recognized defeat when he saw it. He squeezed Rowan’s shoulder before departing, promising to return the next day.

Alone again with Selina, Rowan took her hand between both of his, pressing it to his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

She continued sleeping as her husband grappled with the clash between his newly discovered love and his guilt and fear. He faced the terrifying prospect that protecting his most treasured possession might require sacrificing it.

CHAPTER 33

“Ican walk to the window,” Selina said, though her voice came out thinner than she’d hoped. “I’ve been in bed for three days.”

Agnes hovered nearby, wringing her hands. “The physician said you should still rest, Your Grace.”

“I’ve rested. All I’ve done is rest. I need some air or I’ll go mad.” Selina shoved the covers back and swung her legs over the side, ignoring how weak they felt beneath her.

The floor was cold under her bare feet. Standing took more effort than expected, and the room tilted slightly, but she gritted her teeth and made her way to the window.

Outside, London moved on without her—vendors shouting, carriages rattling down cobbled streets, children chasing each other through the square. The sunlight made the rooftops shine.She used to find comfort in that rhythm. Now, it just made her feel left behind.

“Is His Grace at home?” she asked, not turning around.

Agnes smoothed the sheets. “He’s in his study. Been in there most of the morning.”

Most mornings, really. Rowan had barely left her side when she was at her worst. But once her fever broke, he’d started keeping his distance. He still asked how she was, still sent broth and tea—but something had shifted. He felt far away now, like he’d locked part of himself behind a door she couldn’t open.

“Please tell him I’d like to see him,” Selina said. “And I’d like to get dressed.”

Agnes hesitated. “Are you sure?—”

“I’m sure.”

Less than an hour later, Selina sat by the fire in a pale blue day dress. The simple act of getting dressed had drained her, but it felt good to be in clothes again. Like she was herself, not just an invalid waiting for permission to live.

A knock, and then Rowan stepped in. He stopped just inside the room, his gaze flicking to her, unreadable.

“You look… better,” he said, still by the door.

“I feel better.” She nodded to the chair across from hers. “Will you sit?”

He came over slowly, almost reluctantly. Up close, she saw how tired he looked—shadows under his eyes, tension in his jaw.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” she said.

“I’ve had things to take care of.”

“What sort of things?”

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze shifted away.

“Rowan.”

She reached out, but he moved just out of reach, pretending not to notice.

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