Page 28 of The Duke's Jilted Bride

“It would be best if we appeared together,” Rowan said, his tone making it clear this wasn’t a suggestion. “Our sudden marriagehas become the subject of considerable speculation. Public appearances will quiet the gossip.”

Selina doubted that, but she merely nodded. “As you wish, Your Grace.”

The opera house blazed with light, carriages lined up along the street disgorging London’s elite in their finery.

As the Duke handed her down from their carriage, Selina felt the weight of stares, heard the murmurs that followed their entrance.

“Is that the Duke of Aldermere?”

“With his new wife—the widow he abandoned last year.”

“Remarkable that he returned for her, of all the eligible ladies out there.”

Selina kept her chin high, her hand resting lightly on the Duke’s arm as they moved through the crowded foyer. She had endured society’s judgment before, and she could endure it again.

A portly gentleman with mutton-chop whiskers approached with a thin woman in lavender silk at his side.

“Your Grace! What a pleasure to see you again.” He bowed to Rowan, then turned to Selina with barely concealed curiosity. “And this must be your new duchess.”

“Lord Baxter. Lady Baxter,” Rowan said, his voice cool. “May I present my wife, the Duchess of Aldermere.”

Lord Baxter bowed again, more shallowly this time. “Your Grace. A pleasure indeed.”

Lady Baxter offered a thin smile. “We were all quite surprised by your sudden marriage, Your Grace. How… pragmatic of you to choose a bride with experience rather than youth. So many men prefer the latter, but clearly you value maturity.”

Heat rose to Selina’s cheeks, but she kept her expression serene. “How kind of you to notice, Lady Baxter. Experience brings wisdom, after all.”

“One must find consolation where one can,” Lady Baxter replied with false sympathy. “Though I imagine it must be difficult to secure a match after being left at the altar. Such a persistent stain on one’s reputation.”

“Not nearly as difficult as maintaining civility in the face of poor manners,” Selina countered, her smile unwavering. “But I’ve found that true breeding reveals itself in how one treats others, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lady Baxter’s eyes narrowed. “Speaking of breeding, the ton wonders if we might expect an announcement soon. Given the… hasty nature of your nuptials.”

“Ahem,” Lord Baxter cleared his throat. “Your Grace, I wanted to speak with you about our railway venture. With your unexpected return, I assume you’ll want to resume your interest in the project?”

“You assume incorrectly,” Rowan replied, his tone hardening. “I find I have no desire to do business with those who cannot show proper respect to my wife.”

Lord Baxter’s mouth fell open. “I beg your pardon?”

“My wife is the Duchess of Aldermere,” Rowan continued, his gray eyes flinty. “She commands the respect due her station. Those who cannot offer it will find themselves unwelcome in both my business affairs and my social circle.”

An awkward silence fell. Lady Baxter’s face flushed an unbecoming red.

“Your Grace, I assure you no disrespect was intended,” Lord Baxter stammered.

“Then your wife’s social graces need refinement,” Rowan replied. “Good evening.”

He guided Selina away, leaving the Baxters gaping behind them.

“Thank God, a rescue!” A cheerful voice cut through the tension. Felix appeared before them, resplendent in a midnight blue coat. “You looked ready to commit murder, my friend. Couldn’t let you ruin these fine floors with blood.”

The Duke’s expression softened marginally. “Halston. I wondered if you’d be here tonight.”

“Where else would I be? Mozart’s masterpiece, all of society in attendance…” Felix turned to Selina with a bow. “Your Grace, we weren’t properly introduced at the wedding. Felix Dunleith, Marquess of Halston, at your service. Longtime friend and frequent aggravation to your husband.”

Selina smiled, warming to his easy charm. “A pleasure, Lord Halston. Any friend of my husband’s is welcome in our acquaintance.”

“Even the aggravating ones?” Felix asked with a grin. “Careful, Your Grace. You might regret such openness.”

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