Page 10 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

“If anything, you want a man who is not perfect,” Isabella picked up. “That means there is little chance of other women trying to steal his attention.”

“But there are so many scars,” Diana pointed out as she bit her lip. “I cannot look at him without wincing.”

“Diana!” Louisa snapped. “Now is not the time!”

“I did not mean anything by it,” Diana apologized. “I was just curious.”

“Well, be curious somewhere else,” Louisa snapped. “His Grace is a most…” She hesitated, as if the next words would pain her. “He is a most handsome groom, and I would be remiss if I did not tell you, Selina, how jealous I am.”

“As am I,” Isabella agreed, although she did not sound as if she meant it. “So very jealous. I hope that Mother finds someone similar for me.”

“And Mother certainly is pleased with him,” Diana added in a bid to be a part of the conversation, and hopefully not put her foot in her mouth. “That must count for something?”

“Diana…” Louisa groaned.

“What?”

“Are you incapable of saying the right thing?” Louisa said. “I swear, girl, you were dropped on your head as a baby.”

“I was not!”

“You were,” Isabella affirmed. “And I know it because I was the one who dropped you.”

“You did not!”

“I was there,” Louisa added, trying her best not to burst into laughter. “And for good measure, I then picked you up and dropped you a second time.”

The twin sisters burst into a fit of giggles as Diana screwed up her face and glared at them. She was used to being the butt of their jokes, and now that Selina was going to move out, the teasing would only grow worse.

Times were that Selina might have told them to stop teasing their sister, for she had always been protective of Diana. But with everything going on today, not to mention these past two weeks, she could not bring herself to care one bit. Her life was a misery of the highest order, and oh what she would not give to trade lives with Diana, or Louisa, or Isabella or… or… or anyone, to be perfectly honest.

Even the help’s lives, for how simple they are, might be an improvement.

Two weeks could not make Selina change her feelings about this marriage. If anything, the fourteen days that had passed since that brief exchange in the hallway had only made things worse.

She had not spoken a single word to the Duke in that time.

She had not heard from him.

She had not been given any indication that he cared for her or their impending marriage one little bit. In fact, based on their single exchange, it seemed that he wanted as little to do with this marriage as she did and, by extension, as little to do with her.

There he stood, across the room, seeming to purposefully ignore her as he spoke with people she did not know or care to know. She felt like an imposition at her own wedding, in the way and utterly inconsequential. Quite a way to feel on one’s wedding day.

“Are you going to speak with him anytime soon?” Louisa asked suddenly.

“What was that?” Selina snapped, not meaning to but unable to control herself.

Louisa reared back, but Isabella stepped in. “She is right, Selina. You cannot sit here pouting all day.”

“I am doing no such thing.”

“Sulking then—and do not say otherwise, for that is exactly what you are doing.”

“It is not on me to speak with my own husband,” Selia said stubbornly. “If he has anything to say, he knows where I am.” She crossed her arms and pursed her lips.

It looked as if she had spoken too soon, for her husband turned around suddenly and started toward her. The sight of him coming her way had her heart racing, nerves it felt like—trepidation because she suddenly remembered how she had felt the last time they had spoken.

He was just so big… and scary… and powerful. The room seemed to move around him as if he were the center of gravity. And as she watched him approach, she met his eyes and he held her stare. It was not love she saw in his eyes, however, but anger.

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