Page 3 of His Ruined Duchess

“Do not drag me into this, Lydia.” Myra hauled herself away, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the gathering of Figgins women. “I wish only to be presentable enough to enjoy a quiet evening and return to bed.”

Unsurprisingly, Myra wasn’t concerned with appealing to the new Duke. Selina envied her ability to express herself so openly. Some appearances needed to be maintained at all costs for Selina. She didn’t even trust the servants to keep their mouths shut about her true feelings, not when the ton was so willing to finance those who brought forth the most scandalous of rumors.

I shall not survive this at this rate. If only there were a way to talk sense into the new Duke, to get him to see that I am no concern unwed.

Nausea still dragged along her spine, peaking every moment that she fought for a deep breath. The stays she wore had clearly been laundered incorrectly or wound too tightly. Everything was too much, and flecks of black appeared in her vision as the edges of it became fuzzy.

“Lydia, please just?—”

But Selina’s words were silenced as she heard the sound of an approaching carriage just beyond the front door. They’d tarried in the hallway for some time now, and she shot a glance over her shoulder to the foyer as the sound of hoofbeats and turning wheels grew louder and then stopped.

He was here.

In a flurry of motion, they all rushed toward the front door, even the servants and Myra, who had both been trying to put distance between themselves and the brewing storm that gathered around Selina and her mother. But regardless of how anyone felt about the man, it didn’t stop the surge in energy that took place at his arrival.

Selina was not an imbecile. She would not be hostile toward the Duke, nor would she flagrantly speak down or be disrespectful toward him. He was a necessity at this point, and she could honor that, even if in her heart, she already despised the man.

Just as they were all forming a line at the door to receive him, the entrance lit up as a crack of light streamed into the foyer. Bridget finished tidying the girl’s clothing and hair in a hurry, Selina glaring at her mother to keep her from doing the same to her, and everyone collectively held their breath.

The door opened next. Selina struggled to find the oxygen she needed, taking in tiny sips of air through her nose. They all turned and faced the carriage that sat at the bottom of the estate steps. The small door in the side of the coach opened, and exiting the interior like a sweeping wave of dark water, the Duke of Soulden appeared.

Everything was silent, which was a feat in and of itself considering who she stood next to. The man before them was different. His tall frame was broad with acquired muscle, and his dark hair was slightly ruffled, no doubt from hours of travel.

When he looked up from the ground, their stares connected, and Selina found herself reeling under the weight of his unrelenting gaze. It betrayed no emotion, but the striking green color was something she’d never seen before. He was certainly handsome, and her heart skipped around behind her ribs as he drew nearer.

I cannot breathe. Why does he stare like that? I… cannot… I…

The ruthless air around the man became increasingly pronounced as he drew closer, a dark curtain of intensity that swallowed up the light before it reached him. The hard line of his mouth was set as straight as an arrow, no joy or interest there but only stern observation.

“Your Grace!” her mother exclaimed. “We are so thrilled to welcome you to the estate.”

He didn’t so much as cast a single look in her direction, his eyes instead landing on Selina and pinning there like a fixed point in space. She pulled into herself, intimidated as much as she didn’t want to be. Hazy flecks of black began to consume more and more of her vision, the blurred black aura at the edges becoming larger and larger.

Oh, no. This isn’t… Bugger.

The entirety of the view in front of her was swallowed up into shadow, and as she fought to breathe, failing miserably and aching from head to foot as a result, Selina’s eyes fluttered closed, and she collapsed.

Chapter Two

Her head rarely hurt as much as it did right then. Selina’s temples throbbed, and she came back to herself slowly. She could recognize the scent of her room, the feeling of the soft sheet beneath her. Perhaps that had all just been a terrible dream—the mortification at collapsing like a fool, her mother’s endless fretting about the house, the way Selina’s entire body had felt as if it were shutting down, too tired to carry on with this any longer?—

“Selina! You’re awake!” Lydia’s piercing voice cut through the silence, and she flinched.

No, not a dream. A terrible,terriblereality. God save me.

“Dear, you just crumpled like a wet piece of newspaper. Right there in the foyer.” Her mother’s voice sounded more annoyed than concerned. “Why on earth did you just faint like that?”

Reaching up to scrub a hand down her face, Selina struggled to sit up, the blankets held down at her sides by the weight of her family clustered around her. She felt horrendously claustrophobic and restricted. While she should, of course, care about how she’d presented herself, Selina was quite fed up with everything at the moment—enough to actually scowl as she groaned to herself.

“I had thought to make a joke, Mother. Did it work?”

All Selina could do was listen to the woman scoff at her because she wasn’t removing her hand from her eyes just yet, the light too bright to deal with at present.

“His Grace actually carried you to your room, Selina! Can you believe it!” Lydia practically squealed with delight, and it took everything for Selina to keep her hands set upon her face and not allow them to fling out and smother the girl with a pillow. “It was a sight! You were as limp as an overcooked green bean and nearly the color as well!”

“Lydia,” Myra admonished, “I am sure our sister has been through quite enough. Do you need to say precisely the thing to make her feel worse?”

Selina cracked a lid to look over at Myra, who was to her left. She offered her youngest sister a smile, but the reality of fainting in front of the Duke slapped her hard. Selina truly felt like a fool, the embarrassment swelling within her enough to choke her. God, she’d fallen to the floor, and the Duke had to carry her to her bed. What was next for this foul day?

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