Page 94 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

Edmund chuckled as he approached her. “I am sorry to disturb you, but I wished to check on you after last night.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that. I—” Her voice cracked as her mind went back to the previous evening. “There is no need to check on me, however. If anything, I should be the one coming to see you so that I might apologize.”

Edmund frowned. “What on earth do you have to apologize for?”

“Last night,” she sighed. “I did not mean to put you on the spot like that. Revealing that you…” She clicked her tongue. “That you chose to run. It was not right that I said those things.”

“But they were true.” He chuckled.

“I should not have said them, nonetheless.”

“It is fine,” he assured her gently. “Truly. And if it is any consolation, I think it is for the best that the truth is known. Unlike Benedict, I do not care what people think of me.”

She scoffed. “Perhaps he could learn a thing or two from you.”

“Do not hate him for it,” Edmund urged. “Although it might not excuse what he did, he only acted in the way that he thought was right. That is all he has ever done.”

“Oh, I know,” she sighed. “And I want you to know that what happened between me and your brother had nothing to do with you. You were simply caught in the middle, and for that…” She chuckled softly. “I apologize.”

He smiled softly. “Either way, I am glad that you are doing well.” He hesitated, seeming to consider what to say next. “If it is any consolation, you are doing far better than Benedict.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ah, so that is why you are here.” Then, she turned around and walked back to her desk. She had a letter to write, and she suddenly felt more inspired to write it.

“Not at all.” He hurried behind her. “The truth is, he does not know I am speaking with you.”

“Wonderful,” she muttered as she sat down.

“I simply wished to?—”

“Edmund, I appreciate your coming by.” Sitting down, she looked over her shoulder at him and raised an eyebrow so he would know she was speaking plainly. “But what happened last night was a long time coming. Perhaps I had not thought so, but the more I think about it…” She exhaled as if to expel the pain welling up in her chest. “It was always going to be this way.”

Edmund frowned. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “It is. Your brother has made his feelings toward me clear—truthfully, he did so two months ago. And it is as I said…” She made sure to look him right in the eyes. “I am perfectly fine. Truly, there is no need to worry.”

The look that Edmund fixed her with told her that he did not believe a word of what she said. Which was to be expected, as Selina did not believe her words either.

Oh sure, she spoke them well enough. She forced them out of her mouth because she had little choice and knew that it was better to accept reality than wallow in self-pity. What had happened may have hurt, but misery would not erode the pain. If anything, it would only worsen it.

So, waking up this morning, realizing that her husband was unlikely going to come to her and apologize—why would he? This was what he had wanted from the beginning—Selina made a choice. Resilience. Independence. And, as the piece of parchment before her indicated, a fresh start.

Edmund took note of the piece of parchment. “What is that, if you do not mind my asking?”

“It is nothing,” she sighed as she turned back in her chair. “I am writing a letter to my cousin, the Duchess of Thorne. It occurred to me this morning that I might need a place to stay until we decide what is to be done, and my cousin has always?—”

“W-What?” Edmund sputtered. “A place to stay? You are leaving?”

“I think it is for the best.”

“But that is… do you not think that to be a tad preemptive? You and Benedict fought, yes. From what the staff tell me, that is not so uncommon.” He laughed awkwardly. “Surely, if you both take a moment and talk about?—”

“I am afraid that we are well past that. Yes, Benedict and I have been known to…” She could not help but smile. “Argue, from time to time. But this is different.”

“Still…” Edmund bit his lip. “Have you told Benedict of your plan? I refuse to believe that he would agree.”

She scoffed bitterly. “This was his idea, Edmund.”

He balked. “No?”

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