Page 99 of The Duke's Jilted Bride

When they passed Matthew and Miss Thornton, the viscount bowed politely. There was no awkwardness in his manner, only the respectful acknowledgment of a casual acquaintance.

“Your Grace,” he greeted them both. “What a pleasure. May I present Miss Thornton?”

The introductions were made with perfect propriety. Miss Thornton proved charming, her admiration for Matthew evident in the soft glances she cast his way when she thought no one was looking.

“Miss Thornton has a remarkable talent for astronomy,” Matthew said, his chest puffing with pride that had nothing to do with himself. “She’s identified three celestial anomalies that her father is documenting for the Royal Society.”

“How impressive,” Selina replied, genuine interest in her voice. “Perhaps you might show us sometime? Rowan and I have been meaning to learn more about the night sky.”

The couple agreed enthusiastically, and plans were made for a small gathering at Matthew’s country home, where his telescope could be put to good use.

As they moved away, Rowan squeezed Selina’s hand, which rested on his arm. “That was kind of you.”

“It costs nothing to be kind,” she replied. “Besides, I like seeing him happy. He deserves it.”

Rowan studied her profile, struck anew by the generosity of her spirit. “I was wrong about him,” he admitted. “And about many things.”

She turned to him, surprise in her eyes. “Rowan Blackmore admitting he was wrong? Alert the papers.”

Her teasing drew a laugh from him, the sound surprising a passing matron who had only ever seen the Duke of Aldermere’s more severe countenance.

“Don’t look now,” Selina murmured, “but Lady Winsley is by the punch bowl.”

Rowan glanced over casually. Annette stood with a small group of women, her blonde hair arranged in an elaborate style emphasizing her still-youthful beauty. As if sensing his gaze, she looked up, her eyes briefly meeting his before sliding away with studied indifference.

“She’s keeping her distance tonight,” he observed.

“A welcome change,” Selina replied.

They spent the rest of the evening among friends, dining with the Emberfords and dancing several sets together. When Robert and Georgiana mentioned their upcoming house party, Selina accepted for both of them without hesitation, her hand finding Rowan’s under the table.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked later as they walked to their carriage. “I know you prefer London to country visits.”

“I prefer being wherever you are,” he said, the truth of it catching them both by surprise. “Besides, Emberford has excellent fishing streams.”

Her smile was worth any number of country house parties.

The ride home passed in comfortable conversation about the evening. Selina’s head eventually came to rest against his shoulder, her voice growing softer as fatigue caught up with her.

“You were wonderful tonight,” she murmured as the carriage turned onto their street. “Even with Matthew.”

“He makes it easy,” Rowan admitted. “It’s clear he only has eyes for Miss Thornton now.”

“And you only have eyes for me,” she said with sleepy certainty.

It was true, he realized. Somewhere along the way, his world had narrowed to this one point, this one person. He had returned to London a man consumed with vengeance. Now, vengeance seemed a pale shadow compared to what he had found with Selina.

They climbed the stairs together, dismissing Simmons with assurances they could see themselves to bed. In their chambers, Rowan helped Selina out of her gown, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her shoulders.

“I love you,” she said suddenly, turning to face him.

The words hung in the air between them, simple and profound. He had known, of course—had seen it in her eyes, felt it in her touch. But hearing it spoken aloud still stole his breath.

Before he could find the words to answer, she pressed her fingers gently to his lips. “You don’t need to say it back. Not until you’re ready.”

He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Selina?—”

But she silenced him with a kiss, her lips moving against his with a hunger that matched his own. His hands found the fastenings of her nightgown, fingers trembling slightly as he loosened the ribbons at her throat.

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