Page 59 of The Duke's Jilted Bride

“I… I heard a noise,” she stammered, her face flaming red. “I thought… thieves perhaps…”

Rowan rose smoothly to his feet, positioning himself to shield Selina’s disheveled state from view. “A minor accident. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Of course.” The maid bobbed a hasty curtsy, backing toward the door. “I’ll just… good night, Your Grace.”

She fled, the door swinging shut behind her.

Silence fell between them, the spell broken. Selina slid from the table on unsteady legs, smoothing her skirts with trembling hands. Her body still hummed with pleasure, but embarrassment had crept in, cooling the heat of passion.

“That was…” Words failed her.

“Not how I intended our evening to end,” Rowan finished, his voice rough.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, putting further distance between them. His expression softened as he looked at her, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We should retire,” he said quietly. “It’s late.”

“Yes.” Selina struggled to read his face in the dim light. Was he regretting his actions? Did he wish to continue them upstairs? “Of course.”

They walked through the silent house side by side, close enough to touch but carefully not doing so. The heated intimacy of moments before had been replaced by an awkward awareness, neither quite certain how to proceed.

At the top of the stairs, where the corridor branched toward their separate chambers, Rowan paused.

“Thank you,” he said. “For tending my wounds.”

Selina felt a blush heat her cheeks at the double meaning his words could hold. “You should put more salve on that lip before you sleep.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her face. For a moment, she thought he might reach for her again, might suggest they continue what had begun in the kitchen. Instead, he took a step back.

“Good night, Selina.”

“Good night, Rowan.”

She turned toward her chamber, distinctly aware of his eyes following her until she closed her door. Only then did she leanagainst it, her knees still weak, her body still singing from his touch.

What had just happened? And more importantly, what did it mean for their marriage?

Questions without answers. She pushed away from the door and undressed, her fingers finding the places Rowan’s mouth had touched, as if his kiss had left physical marks on her skin.

CHAPTER 20

“The Countess of Amberley always hosts the most elegant gatherings,” Robert, Georgiana’s husband, remarked as their carriage approached the grand townhouse. “Though her cook tends toward the adventurous. Last year she served a French dish I swear moved on my plate.”

Rowan smiled despite his reluctance to attend tonight’s dinner party. After the encounter in the kitchen three nights ago, he and Selina had maintained a careful distance, neither mentioning what had transpired between them. The memory of her taste lingered on his tongue, the sound of her pleasure echoing in his dreams.

“I hope you’ll find the company agreeable,” Georgiana said, breaking into his thoughts. “We were delighted to receive your note accepting our invitation to share the carriage.”

Rowan nodded. “Selina speaks highly of you both.”

The carriage halted before a mansion ablaze with light. Footmen in elegant livery assisted them down, and Rowan offered his arm to Selina. Her silk gown whispered against his coat as she placed her gloved hand in the crook of his elbow. The brief contact was enough to remind him of how her skin had felt beneath his lips.

“Have you met Lady Amberley before?” Selina asked as they ascended the steps.

“Once or twice at my father’s gatherings.” Rowan kept his voice neutral. “Not recently.”

Inside, the entrance hall gleamed with marble and gilt. A liveried butler announced their arrival, and Lady Amberley herself came forward to greet them.

“Your Grace, how wonderful that you could join us,” she said, taking Selina’s hands. “And the Duke and Duchess of Emberford. My gathering is now complete.”

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