Page 42 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

Benedict told himself this was a good thing. Why couldn’t they be friends? Especially if she would be leaving in less than two months—as she seemed to want. And as he wanted, for that matter. This marriage could never work, and they would both be happier when it was behind them, as they had agreed.

Thus, for now, it was better to be safe than risk anything else happening. Anything that might make her eventual decision to leave that much messier. Anything other than being friendly.

But would that be so bad? Just one more time, the two of us, giving in to our most carnal desires as we had already done…

Just the thought of that had his leg shaking again.

“He is not as bad as everyone thinks,” Benedict continued, giving his head a shake to dispel any thoughts of ravenous delight that took over when he gazed upon Selina and dared to think what might happen if he raised his voice… just a little.

“Is that right?”

“He was only eight when our parents died. Truthfully, I am not even sure if he remembers them. And while I became set on living up to the legacy that I knew they would want for me, Edmund was never sure of his place. And seeing as I was only twelve, I regret that I was not old enough to guide him.”

She frowned. “You speak as if it is your fault.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps that is silly of me. I barely knew what I was doing, let alone having the forethought to guide my brother…” He chuckled as memories of his youth came to him. “Most of what you hear about him is not true.” A wink. “Most of it, anyhow.”

“Have you heard from him?” she asked. “Since…”

He grimaced. “Whispers. I have sent letters to friends who I know he may be staying with, and I am hoping to hear from him soon. He will be fine—it is not his safety I’m worried about. My biggest fear is that he is scared of what I might do when he decides to come home. Scared that I might…” He clicked his tongue. “That I might overreact.”

She pretended to gasp. “You? Never?”

“Careful, Selina,” he said jokingly. “Do not test me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You need to learn to take a joke, Benedict. Not every word of derision is intended to insult. Only most of them,” she added with a cheeky grin and a wink.

They were walking a dangerous line. Benedict had no doubt that she wanted to be friends, or at the very least friendly. But despite the jovial nature of their conversation, she could not help but poke at him gently, to test his limits, to remind him that she had the inane ability to anger him if she so chose.

Truthfully, Benedict knew that it would be far simpler for the both of them when the time came for her to leave. Yes, right now, things seemed easy, and they had found a middle ground that allowed them to be friendly. But it would not last. A fight would occur again. Perhaps worse than the last time, one after which Selina would finally understand who it was that she was living with. A monster.

Benedict was never meant to marry. He knew that. He had resigned himself to that. And when Selina left him and he could go back to the way things were, he would be… well, not happy. That was never his fate.

Content. For Benedict, that was the best he could hope for.

Chapter Fifteen

It was strange the difference that a few days made. Much like the weather, what started as a torrential storm to which there seemed no end soon turned sunny and glorious, ending like a day torn from the pages of a romance novel.

Perhaps a slight exaggeration, especially concerning the romance, but as the days progressed, that was exactly how it felt.

“So, dear husband, what is it that you have planned for today?” Selina asked as they sat down together to break their fast.

“Thank you for asking, lovely wife,” he responded.

It was an inside joke, the nicknames, because this marriage was anything but traditional, so they thought it funny to act otherwise.

“It is a busy day ahead for me, I am afraid.”

“Oh?”

Benedict sighed and sank down in his chair. “I am afraid I must head north to Manchester, where I will likely be until well after noon.”

“Anything worth worrying about?”

“Not really…” He clicked his tongue in vexation. “Just some tenants I must deal with. They have fallen rather behind on their rent and need to be reminded that late payments will not be tolerated.”

She chuckled as she reached for a scone. “How terrifying. For them, I mean.”

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