Page 8 of The Duke's Jilted Bride

“You cannot mean this,” she said, her voice barely audible above the growing noise.

“I’m sorry, Lady Galerton.” Lord Penderwick could not meet her eyes. “But Mother is right. I cannot proceed while there are questions about your… availability.”

“There are noquestions,” she insisted. “His Grace abandoned me at the altar. Whatever arrangement existed between us was nullified by his actions.”

Lady Penderwick stepped forward. “I think it’s best if you leave now, Lady Galerton.”

“But—”

“Selina. Please.” Lord Penderwick finally looked at her, his expression pained but resolute. “It would be easier for everyone.”

Rowan watched the exchange with satisfaction and, unexpectedly, guilt. He had not expected the visceral impact of seeing Selina humiliated. But it was necessary. She belonged with him, not this weak-willed viscount who surrendered at the first sign of difficulty.

Selina straightened her spine, drawing on some inner reserve of dignity that Rowan reluctantly admired.

“Very well,” she said quietly. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Penderwick.” She turned to Lord Penderwick. “I wish you well, My Lord.”

Without looking back at Rowan, Selina crossed the room and made for the door, her head held high while whispers and stares chased after her.

The moment he moved to follow her, Rowan found himself surrounded. Society matrons and curious gentlemen closed in, their voices clamoring for answers.

“Your Grace, where have you been all this time?”

“Is it true you fled to the Continent to escape your debts?”

“Did you really flee a duel?”

Rowan did not stop to answer. He pushed through the crowd, focused only on reaching the exit.

He had done what he came to do. He had stopped Lady Galerton’s engagement. But the real fight still lay ahead.

Outside, the cool night air hit him like a slap. He spotted her already halfway down the street, hurrying toward a waiting hackney carriage.

“Lady Galerton!” he called out, lengthening his stride to catch her.

She spun to face him, her eyes bright with fury. “Leave me alone.”

Rowan moved in front of her, cutting off her path to the carriage. “We need to talk.”

“We have nothing to say to each other! You humiliated me once by abandoning me at the altar. Now you have ruined the only chance I had left for a decent life!”

“I saved you from marrying a man too weak to stand up to his own mother,” Rowan said, keeping his voice even.

Selina laughed bitterly. “How generous of you! Perhaps Viscount Penderwick clings to his mother’s skirts, but he is kind. And he was going to meet me at the altar, unlike you.”

The accusation stung more than Rowan had expected. “I couldn’t attend our wedding. The circumstances were beyond my control.”

“How convenient,” Selina said. “And am I to believe that these mysterious circumstances also prevented you from sending word during your entire absence?”

Rowan hesitated. He could not tell her the truth. Not yet. Not until he had dealt with the person responsible for his abduction. Until then, any knowledge would only put her at risk.

“The details are complicated,” he said finally. “But I intend to make things right. I will have a new special license within two days. We can be married immediately.”

“You must be mad if you think I would marry you now.”

“You have little choice,” Rowan pointed out. “Your engagement to Viscount Penderwick is broken. Your reputation, already precarious, will not survive another scandal. No other suitable man will offer for you now.”

Selina’s face crumpled for a moment before her fury returned. “How dare you? You speak as if I am a piece of property to be claimed!”

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