Page 74 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

Again, he redirects and makes sure to keep things superficial.

Selina might have been more worried if, beneath it all, she had not sensed a change in him that she was certain evenhehad noticed. They did not fight as much as they used to. They did not purposefully snap as if that was the only way they could stand to be around each other. It was similar to how they had behaved when her mother and sisters we visiting, only more real than that.

And it was this realness that made Selina understand that the feelings she had developed for him were not forced or fake. There was no need for that anymore.

Selina was falling for her husband. And now, she needed to find out if he was falling for her too.

“I cannot.” She smirked. “But speaking of lost time…” She swallowed. “Lately, I have been considering?—”

“Oh! Before you say anything,” Benedict cut her off. “I very nearly forgot—honestly, it can be hard keeping my thoughts straight when you are around me.” He winked. “How I get any work done is beyond me.”

“Forgot what?” Selina asked, hating that she was almost glad for the interruption. Another chance to delay her question.

“You are probably wondering to whom I am writing.” Benedict indicated the piece of parchment he had been scribbling on.

“I assumed it was to do with work.”

“Not this time,” he said. “It is to Edmund. He wrote to me just this morning, enquiring when he might return, and I was about to tell him that he is free to do so as soon as he wishes.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Yes, that sounds perfectly acceptable. Not that you need my permission for that.” She laughed. “And somehow, I doubt that you were going to ask for it.”

He chuckled. “After the Mayfield Ball, and how well the two of us performed that night, I thought that our marriage would no longer be under scrutiny and that the scandal would blow over as if it never was.” He looked at her for an answer.

Selina ignored the way her stomach twisted. That word,performed. It was the opposite of what she wanted to hear.

“It… it has,” she forced out. “But what is your point?”

He sighed. “I fear that my brother’s sudden return might cause a few stray tongues to wag—his reputation will demand it. No doubt his absence has been noted, and his appearing out of nowhere means that questions will surely be asked. Questions that I would prefer not having to answer.”

“I… I suppose that is possible.”

“I was thus thinking that it might be prudent if we get ahead of the rumors before they spread, and put them to bed once and for all,” Benedict continued.

She frowned. “Rumors? Surely, his return will matter little?”

“I would like to think not, but seeing as he was the reason we got married in the first place, it is likely that when he does return, people will begin to ask where he has been and, most importantly, why he was not at our wedding.”

“Oh.” Selina frowned as she considered what he was saying, not entirely certain that she agreed with him. “And what are you suggesting?”

“Nothing too brash, I assure you. My thoughts are that we host a dinner party to celebrate his return. Family and close friends only, of course—a little event to imply that he has been away for good reason which has nothing to do with us.”

“Away for good reason? Not that he fled so as not to be forced to marry me, you mean,” she said flatly.

Benedict grimaced. “That is one circumstance that I believe will better not be spoken about—as things stand, nobody knows the real reason why Edmund left. So, rather than let them gossip, I say that we give them a reason and be done with it.”

“And that reason will be…?”

“Nothing too exciting.” He chuckled. “Best to keep these things simple. Perhaps he was traveling when our engagement was announced, hence he could not make it to the wedding ceremony. Perhaps he was searching for a bride of his own—I will come up with something more credible before the dinner party, and I will ensure that Edmund sticks to it.”

“That sounds convoluted, no?”

“That is not all.” Benedict was now looking at Selina in a way that suggested what he was about to say was not a conclusion he had come to lightly. He looked nervous, worried even—so very unlike him.

She swallowed nervously. “I’m listening.”

“It concerns you and I, Selina. If we are to host a dinner party, and we are to make ourselves the center of attention once more, it will be prudent that we once again put on airs as we were forced to do at the Mayfield Ball.” He made sure that she was looking at him. “That we pretend to be in love again.”

She tried not to let the pain show on her face. The disappointment, also. For how hard she had found it to walk in here and broach the topic of their feelings for one another, Benedict apparently had no such concerns.

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