Page 60 of The Duke's Jilted Bride

After exchanging pleasantries, Selina turned to Rowan. “You must meet Georgiana and Robert properly. You’ve never been formally introduced.”

The introductions proceeded with proper decorum. Rowan found himself pleasantly surprised by the Duke of Emberford, their conversation flowing with unexpected ease as they discovered a mutual interest in maritime commerce.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Georgiana said after several minutes, “I’d like to steal Selina away for a moment before dinner. I promised to show her the new portrait in the music room.”

Rowan watched them go, noting how Selina’s face brightened as she walked away with her friend. He had given her precious little cause for such happiness in their time together.

“Your Grace.” A feminine voice interrupted his thoughts. “What a pleasant surprise to see you here tonight.”

He turned to find a handsome woman approaching, her blonde hair elegantly styled, her blue eyes warm with apparent delight at encountering him. For a moment, he struggled to place her. Then recognition dawned, and his body tensed.

Annette Brewer. Lady Winsley. His father’s longtime mistress.

“Lady Winsley.” He managed a stiff bow. “Good evening.”

“It’s been far too long since we’ve had the pleasure of your company in society.” Her smile held a secret knowledge that set his teeth on edge. “I was devastated to hear of your disappearance last year. Such a relief when news came of your return.”

“Indeed.”

Her gaze shifted past him. “And this must be your duchess. How lovely to make your acquaintance at last.”

Selina had returned, moving to stand beside him. “Lady Winsley, I presume?”

“The very same.” Annette took Selina’s hands as if they were old friends. “My dear, you are even more beautiful than rumor suggested. The Duke has chosen remarkably well.”

“You’re too kind,” Selina replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’ve known your husband since he was scarcely more than a boy,” Annette continued. “Such a serious child, always so determined to prove himself. The transition to dukedom must have been quite an adjustment for him. Living up to his father’s legacy is no small feat.”

Rowan felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. His father’s “legacy” had been debt, scandal, and a trail of broken promises.

“I believe Rowan has established his own—” Selina began.

“Lady Winsley,” Rowan cut in, unwilling to let this woman speak of his father to his wife. “A pleasure as always, but I see Lord Halston attempting to gain my attention.”

“Of course.” Annette’s smile dimmed momentarily, a flash of something darker crossing her features before her pleasant mask returned. “We must catch up properly another time. Marriage has softened your edges, Rowan. It’s quite becoming.”

Rowan felt his jaw clench at the familiar use of his given name. Before he could respond, the butler announced dinner, providing a welcome interruption.

“Shall we?” He offered his arm to Selina, who took it with a questioning glance.

The dining room sparkled with candlelight reflected in crystal and silver. Rowan escorted Selina to their seats, noting that Lady Winsley had been placed several spaces away. Small mercies.

As the first course was served, Selina leaned closer. “Are you all right? You seem troubled.”

“I’m fine,” he replied, reaching for his wine glass.

“You didn’t seem fine when speaking with Lady Winsley.”

“It’s nothing.”

Selina studied him for a moment longer before returning her attention to her soup. The meal progressed through multiple courses, Rowan taking part in the surrounding conversation with minimal effort. His mind kept returning to Annette’s presence and what it might mean.

A soft pressure on his thigh startled him from his thoughts. Selina’s hand rested there, a gesture of comfort or perhaps inquiry. The warmth of her touch penetrated the fabric of histrousers, sending an unwelcome surge of desire through his body.

“Rowan,” she whispered. “Something is wrong. Please tell me.”

He covered her hand with his own, intending to remove it from his leg. Instead, he found himself holding it in place, the contact both comforting and arousing.

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