Page 62 of The Duke's Jilted Bride

CHAPTER 21

“Leaving so soon, Your Grace?” Simmons asked as he handed a leather portfolio to Rowan. “The morning post has just arrived.”

Selina paused at the top of the stairs, taking in the unexpected scene below. Footmen scurried about with luggage while Felix lounged against the banister, looking travel-ready in riding clothes. Rowan stood in the center of it all, issuing brisk instructions.

“What’s happening?” she asked, descending the final steps.

Felix straightened, his expression darkening as he turned to Rowan. “You haven’t told her?”

Rowan shot him a warning glance before addressing Selina. “A business matter requires our attention in the country. We should return within a few days.”

“Business in the country,” Selina repeated, unable to keep the skepticism from her voice.

After their encounter in the kitchen, followed by his withdrawal after the dinner party, this sudden departure felt like another carefully calculated retreat.

“A property evaluation,” Felix supplied, earning another sharp look from Rowan. “Quite urgent.”

“I see.” Selina maintained a calm exterior despite the frustration building within her. “I wish you both a safe journey.”

Rowan hesitated, as if expecting something more—a question, perhaps, or an argument. When she offered neither, he nodded stiffly. “We should reach our destination by nightfall.”

“Then you should be on your way.” She turned toward the breakfast room. “Good day, gentlemen.”

As she walked away, she heard Felix mutter something that sounded remarkably like “coward” before the front door closed behind them.

Alone at the breakfast table, Selina stared at her untouched toast, her appetite gone. Another dismissal, another mystery. Would this pattern define their entire marriage? Brief moments of connection followed by walls higher than before?

The thought was intolerable.

“He left without explanation?” Georgiana’s indignation carried clearly despite her effort to keep her voice low. “Again?”

“Business in the country,” Selina confirmed as they strolled through the park, a discreet maid trailing several paces behind. “With Lord Halston in tow.”

“Men and their mysterious business.” Georgiana shook her head. “Though Robert at least tells me where he’s going, even when the details would bore me to tears.”

Spring had transformed the park into a riot of green, pink blossoms drifting from ornamental cherry trees planted along the path. On any other day, Selina would have delighted in the beauty. Today, she barely noticed.

“It’s not the business that troubles me,” she admitted. “It’s the pattern. Every time we move closer, he finds a reason to withdraw.”

“The incident in the kitchen,” Georgiana said softly, referring to the confidence Selina had shared earlier. “And before that, the opera.”

“Precisely.” Selina sighed. “I begin to think he married me solely to prevent my marriage to someone else, with no intention of making it a true union.”

“Then why pursue you physically?” Georgiana asked. “If distance was his goal, he could simply maintain formality.”

“I wish I knew.” Selina adjusted her bonnet against a sudden breeze. “Sometimes I catch him looking at me with such intensity, as if he wants to speak but cannot find the words. Then the moment passes, and he’s distant once more.”

Georgiana squeezed her arm sympathetically. “You deserve better than half measures, my dear. After all he’s put you through, you owe him nothing.”

“And yet.”

“And yet,” Georgiana agreed, understanding the unspoken sentiment. Despite everything, Selina found herself drawn to Rowan, curious about the man beneath the armor, hopeful that what they had shared in brief moments of connection might somehow grow.

“Look there,” Georgiana said suddenly, nodding toward a fashionable shop across the street. “Isn’t that Lord Penderwick?”

Selina followed her gaze to where Matthew stood, shifting awkwardly outside the modiste’s shop. “It is indeed.”

“Shall we greet him? He seems in need of rescue.”

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