Page 47 of The Duke's Jilted Bride

“What would you know of proper courtship?” Lady Penderwick’s eyes glittered with malice. “A woman twice passed over, forced to accept a man who abandoned her once before. I protected my son from such a humiliating match, and I thank Providence daily for it.”

The words stung, but Selina maintained her composure. “Matthew deserves happiness. As does the young lady he’s courting. Your interference does neither any favors.”

“How dare you?” Lady Penderwick sputtered. “A woman of your questionable reputation, lecturing me on proper behavior? One might ask what desperation drove the Duke to marry you so hastily upon his return. Perhaps the rumors of an impending birth are not so far-fetched after all.”

“That’s quite enough, Lady Penderwick.”

Rowan’s voice, cold and authoritative, came from directly behind Selina. She turned to find him standing there, his expression glacial as he regarded Lady Penderwick.

“Your Grace.” Lady Penderwick’s face flushed. “I was merely?—”

“Insulting my wife,” Rowan finished. “In a public park, no less. Such behavior reflects poorly on your breeding.”

Lady Penderwick opened her mouth, then closed it again, her complexion moving from red to purple.

“Your Graces!” Matthew hurried toward them, the young lady and her maid following more slowly. “I thought I recognized you. How delightful to see you both.”

“Lord Penderwick.” Selina smiled, genuinely pleased to see him. “Are you enjoying the afternoon?”

“Very much so,” he replied with a warm smile. “Miss Thornfield and I were just discussing her father’s collection of botanical drawings.” He turned to Rowan. “Your Grace, an honor to see you again.”

Rowan inclined his head stiffly. “Lord Penderwick.”

“Matthew, we’re leaving,” Lady Penderwick announced, seizing her son’s arm. “Miss Thornfield’s mother will be wondering what has delayed her.”

“But we’ve only just—” Matthew began.

“Now, Matthew.”

With an apologetic glance at Miss Thornfield, Matthew allowed himself to be led away, though Selina noted with satisfaction that he managed to bow to the young lady before departing.

“Charming woman,” Felix remarked, joining them as Lady Penderwick marched her son toward their waiting carriage. “Has all the warmth of a January blizzard.”

“She was unforgivably rude,” Rowan said, his voice still edged with anger.

“To be expected,” Selina replied, surprised by his vehemence. “She’s never approved of me.”

“That doesn’t excuse her behavior.”

Felix cleared his throat. “On that note, perhaps we should continue our promenade? Half the ton is watching this little drama unfold.”

Selina glanced around and realized he was right. Nearby strollers had slowed their pace, openly staring at the confrontation.

Rowan offered his arm once more, but this time, the gesture seemed protective. His hand covered hers as she placed it on his sleeve, the light pressure both reassuring and startlingly intimate.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as they walked away.

“For what?”

“Defending me.”

Rowan’s expression was unreadable. “You are my wife. Whatever our private arrangement, in public you are the Duchess of Aldermere and deserve to be treated accordingly.”

The words were formal, correct, yet Selina felt a peculiar disappointment at their coolness. For a moment, his anger seemed personal, as if the insult to her had truly affected him.

“I believe you’ve put on a sufficient show for today,” Felix said as they completed their circuit. “Though I must say, the confrontation with Lady Penderwick was an unexpected bonus. Nothing unites a couple like a common enemy.”

“She’s hardly an enemy,” Selina protested. “Merely an unpleasant acquaintance.”

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