Page 64 of The Girl Who Fell Through Time
Selene laughs as she is pulled forward. Ophelia is her opposite in many ways. Small and curvy, with warm brown skin and even warmer eyes. She’s dressed in a creamy, frothy dress that gives her the appearance of a cupcake, with fresh flowers studded in her beautiful black curls. They surround her face like a halo.
“It has been two monthsat most, Ophelia,” Selene responds, hoping she’s get the dates right.
“Two months? Alifetime!” Ophelia insists. She turns her attention briefly to the others, offering quick greetings—an enthusiastic nod to Marta, a more reserved but polite acknowledgement of Soren—before her eyes flick to Dorian, who has just stepped down from the carriage.
“Ah, Lord Nightbloom,” she says with a wry smile. “I do hope you’re prepared for the trials ahead. My father and brothers have been dying to speak with you.”
Dorian inclines his head with a rueful smile, but Selene catches the flicker of something wary in his eyes. He’s well aware of what awaits him inside—an evening of measured conversation, political positioning, and attempts at gentle intimidation from Lord Fairmont and the rest of the party.
Sure enough, barely a moment after the introductions are complete, he is swiftly drawn into the house, flanked by Ophelia’s eldest brother, Laurence, and their father, Horace. He casts Selene a fleeting glance—a clearhelp me—before he disappears into the smoking room.
Ophelia, entirely unrepentant, loops her arm through Selene’s and steers her towards the sunlit parlour, where refreshments await.
“Come, I want to heareverything.”
The parlour is bright and welcoming, the scent of fresh roses lingering in the air. A maid sets down a delicate tea service, and Ophelia waves her away impatiently, her focus entirely on Selene.
“Now,” Ophelia says, clasping her hands together with a gleam of anticipation in her eyes, “you musttellme everything. And don’t you dare be evasive! What is itlikebeing married to Lord Nightbloom? What is he like behind closed doors? I was quite aghast when I heard the news, you know—I thought you’d lost your mind entirely. But I have heard… whispers. So, go on. Enlighten me.”
Selene lets out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. “Ophelia, truly, it is not half as scandalous as you seem to wish it were.”
“Drat.” Ophelia sighs dramatically. “So, no dark rituals or bloodletting by candlelight?”
“Ophelia, have you been reading gothic novels again?”
“They’re justsuch fun!”
Selene snorts. “There are no dark rituals that I have been made aware of at Ebonrose Hall.”
Ophelia pouts. “A pity.”
Selene takes a sip of her tea, considering. It surprises her, really, how easy it is to speak of Dorian. How the words come without hesitation. “He is…” She pauses, searching for the right words. “He isgood, Ophelia. Kind. Clever. Thoughtful. He listens—really listens. And he is patient with me, which I do not always deserve.”
Ophelia nods, as if affirming something to herself. “That’s a relief. When I first heard of the match, I wascertainyou’d be doomed to a life of misery. But—” she lowers her voice slightly, “—it seems you may have been the fortunate one after all.”
Selene blinks, looking up. “What do you mean?”
Ophelia stirs her tea absently, glancing towards the door as if checking that no one is listening. “The Duke,” she says vaguely. “There have been…rumours.”
Selene leans in slightly. “What sort of rumours?”
“All sorts,” she says. “None with any proof, of course. But… well. I’ve heard tales of a mistress in town, of him being ghastly to his servants, that he beats his dogs… even suggestions of an illegitimate child. Plenty to suggest that he is not as nice a fellow as we initially thought.”
Selene pauses. She’d never heard these rumours before in her other life. And whilst there is plenty the Duke is guilty of… none of those strike a chord. He loved his hounds, for one, and although she certainly could imagine the Duke with a mistress, she had no reason to suspect he would have kept that from her while they were married. As for the suggestion of a child…
He had wanted one so badly while they were married. Had begged her for one.“What good are you if you can’t breed?”he’d told her once.“If you, of all women, can’t give me a child…”
If he’d had one already, Selene had no doubts he would have held it over her head. Proof that she was the problem, and not him.
Selene looks across at Ophelia now. Her friend had been in her fifth month with child by the time Selene’s life had restarted.“You’ll have one soon,”she’d told her. “Many woman take longer than a year to conceive.”
Selene knew that was true, but it hadn’t helped her at the time. She was relieved now that she hadn’t borne the Duke’s child—she couldn’t imagine the pain of having returned to a life without them in it—but that had felt like her sole mission for a year. A mission she was constantly reminded that she’d failed at.
But maybe it wasn’t her. Maybe it had always beenhim.
And if it was… then the rumours about him fathering a child were wrong.
Who would be spreading false rumours about the Duke?
