Page 108 of The Duke's Jilted Bride

Georgiana entered behind Isabella, carrying a tea tray. “I told you she’s been impossible. Three days of this stubborn melancholy.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Selina protested.

“Then act like it,” Isabella said, settling into a chair opposite her. “When did you last see proper sunlight? Your skin is practically translucent.”

“I’ve been unwell. The physician recommended rest.”

“The physician recommended rest from illness, not from life itself.” Isabella accepted a cup from Georgiana. “What you need is fresh air, conversation, and perhaps a new bonnet. Shopping solves most problems.”

Selina set aside her embroidery with a sigh. “I don’t want to go shopping.”

“Which is exactly why you need to go shopping,” Georgiana said, settling beside Isabella in what was clearly a coordinated attack. “When a woman loses interest in new gloves, action must be taken.”

“I haven’t lost interest in anything. I simply prefer quiet activities right now.”

“Sitting in corners like a wilted flower is not an activity,” Isabella declared. It’s irresponsible to ignore your friends who care for you!

Despite her dark mood, Selina felt a smile tug at her lips. “That’s rather dramatic, even for you.”

“I haven’t even begun being dramatic. Shall I throw myself on the floor? Tear my hair? I’m prepared to make a scene if necessary.”

“Please don’t. Georgiana’s servants will think you’ve lost your mind.”

“They already think that,” Georgiana said cheerfully. “Isabella has that effect on most people.”

Isabella raised her chin with mock dignity. “I prefer to think of myself as memorable.”

“That’s certainly one word for it,” Selina said, feeling lighter despite herself.

“There. You smiled. Progress.” Isabella leaned forward. “Now, shall we go willingly, or must we drag you bodily from this house?”

Selina looked at her two friends, recognizing defeat. “You’re both impossible.”

“We prefer determined,” Georgiana said. “Agnes is already preparing your walking dress.”

“You planned this.”

“Of course we planned this. Did you think we’d leave you to mope indefinitely?” Isabella stood, smoothing her skirts. “Twenty minutes to dress, then we’re leaving.”

An hour later, Selina found herself on Bond Street, flanked by her determined friends. The afternoon sun felt almost foreign after days indoors, and she blinked against its brightness.

“See? Fresh air,” Isabella said, breathing deeply. “Already you look more human.”

“Thank you for that glowing assessment.”

They began their expedition at the milliners, where Isabella insisted on trying on increasingly elaborate creations.

“What do you think of this one?” she asked, modeling a confection of silk flowers and feathers.

“I think you look like you’ve been attacked by a garden,” Selina replied.

“Perfect. I’ll take it.”

Georgiana shook her head. “You cannot seriously intend to wear that in public.”

“Watch me.” Isabella admired herself in the mirror. “Life is too short for sensible bonnets.”

Despite her friends’ best efforts, Selina felt no joy in the excursion. The bright fabrics and cheerful chatter that usually lifted her spirits seemed muted, as if she viewed the world through gray glass. She followed Isabella and Georgiana through shop after shop, nodding at moments but feeling disconnected from it all.

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