Page 112 of The Duke's Jilted Bride

The butler appeared instantly, as if he’d been waiting. “Your Grace?”

“My horse. Now. And send word to Bow Street. Tell them the Duke of Aldermere requires immediate help.”

“At once, Your Grace. Might I ask?—”

“There’s no time.” Rowan was already at the door. “And Simmons? If Lady Winsley comes to this house, do not let her in. Do you understand? No matter what she says, she is not to be admitted.”

“Perfectly, Your Grace.”

Rowan burst through the front door into the afternoon light, his mind racing with terrible possibilities. How long had Annette been planning this? How many steps ahead of him was she?

And even more frightening, did she already have Selina?

CHAPTER 37

“Ah, you’re awake. How lovely.”

Selina’s eyes blinked open to a room she didn’t recognize. Her head pounded where something had struck her, and her hands were tied behind her back with scratchy rope. Across from her, Lady Winsley sat calmly in a battered armchair, looking as if she were simply waiting for tea to be served.

“Where am I?” Selina’s voice was dry, cracked from disuse. She tried to shift on what felt like an old settee, but the rope held tight.

“A place full of memories,” Annette said, smoothing the fabric of her skirts. “This cottage was where your husband’s father and I spent some of our happiest hours.”

Selina looked around the faded little room with peeling wallpaper, dust coating the furniture, stale air that smelled ofmold and things long forgotten. The afternoon light leaking through the dirty windows gave the place a ghostly feel.

“You kidnapped me.”

“Such an ugly word,” Annette said with a faint smile. “Let’s say I borrowed you. You won’t be hurt as long as your husband cooperates.”

“What do you want?”

Annette stood and walked to the window, staring out at the overgrown garden. “Justice. A bit of revenge. Maybe the life I should’ve had.” She turned back, her eyes cold even as her smile stayed in place. “Gerald was an extraordinary man. Brilliant, passionate… heartbreakingly charming when he wanted to be.”

“Lady Winsley?—”

“He promised me everything,” she went on, ignoring the interruption. “After my husband died, it was going to be me and Gerald. I was going to be the next Duchess of Aldermere. That estate, that life was all meant to be mine.”

“But he died.”

“He was murdered,” Annette snapped. “Beaten to death by the men he never should’ve had to deal with. He got in too deep trying to cover his debts. Debts he took on for Rowan. To secure his future.”

Selina’s pulse raced, but she forced herself to stay steady. “That wasn’t Rowan’s fault.”

Annette’s eyes darkened. “Wasn’t it? Gerald blamed himself for Catherine’s death. Said if that boy hadn’t been born, she’d still be alive. After that, it all fell apart—cards, drink, guilt. He was convinced he’d lose everyone he loved. And in the end, he did.”

“You can’t truly believe that.”

“I know it.” Annette returned to her chair, settling herself with deliberate precision. “Gerald told me so himself, in his darkest moments. He said bringing that child into the world had cost him everything he held dear.”

Selina’s throat tightened with horror at the cruelty of a father blaming his child for circumstances beyond anyone’s control. “So you decided to punish Rowan for existing.”

“I decided to give him a taste of loss. To show him what it felt like to have everything stolen away.” Annette’s smile was sharp as broken glass. “The press-ganging was perfect, really. A year of servitude, of powerlessness, of being stripped of identity and position. I thought it might humble him.”

“But it didn’t work as you planned.”

“No. The stubborn fool survived and came back stronger than before. Married you, of all people. Found happiness despite everything I’d taken from him.” Annette leaned forward, hereyes glittering with malice. “So I tried again. Poison in your water, meant to teach him the ultimate lesson about loss.”

Terror shot through Selina as she realized how close she’d come to death. “The water that morning.”

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