Page 27 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

“And?”

“She is to spend the day on horseback, observing the estate. As she told it, she does not expect to be back until dusk.”

“And your point?”

“I worry that it is not my place to say.”

“Perhaps you should not say it, then,” Benedict scoffed.

Mr. Harris looked pointedly at him. “She puts on a facade, Your Grace. She is an expert at feigning disinterest. But I could see through the act, and what I saw was not an independent lady set on forging her own path. I saw loneliness, Your Grace. She does not wish to be on her own.”

Benedict had to work extra hard not to let the disinterested mask he wore slip. Even for a second. Despite the pang of guilt that stabbed his insides, the look he gave Mr. Harris was a rebuke and a reminder to keep his thoughts to himself.

“On the contrary, Harris, I am quite certain that my wife wishes for nothing but solitude.”

“But Your Grace?—”

“You are aware of the circumstances of this marriage, Harris, so it should not surprise you that we will not be spending long days together. Or any days at all, for that matter.”

“But Your Grace, if you just?—”

“And further to that point,” Benedict spoke over the man, making sure to fix him with a look that he knew only too well—one of fury. “How my wife and I choose to spend our time is not up for discussion, and I would ask you to ensure that the servants are aware of this. The two of us have spoken, and we have agreed on what is expected from our union, and that is between us and us alone. Do I make myself clear?”

He knew Mr. Harris well enough to know the desire his elderly butler must have felt to press the point. But Mr. Harris knew him equally as well, and it was for that reason alone that he made the smart decision.

“Of course, Your Grace.” He gave a short bow. “My thinking was that you would simply like to know your wife’s whereabouts.”

“And it is appreciated, Harris. Now, if you do not mind, I have a lot of work to do. So, if there is nothing else…” Benedict raised an eyebrow, indicating the end of the conversation.

“Your Grace.” Mr. Harris executed another bow and then hurried to exit.

However, before he did, he made sure to fix Benedict with a final pleading stare, silently begging him not to go down this path and to heed his warning. Then he closed the door, and again Benedict was left alone. A state of being that he had grown used to, and one that he would continue to thrive in, for that seemed the norm for someone like him.

Is this really the best course? Avoidance. Pretending the other does not exist, as if that might solve everything? Children behave this way, not adults.

Last night, he had been so close to going down a different path. He had lost control. Taken by her beauty. Lured in by her fire. The beast inside him had roared when it sensed that she needed taming, and he had allowed it to lash out and take her.

Only for a second. Just for long enough for him to realize what he was doing. Somehow, he had managed to contain the beast and force it back into hiding. But alas, it was too late, and Benedict feared the damage was done.

For all of last night and all of this morning, he had gone over that evening. Everything from Selina’s sudden appearance in his room to her admission that she would happily leave if she was allowed to, to their kiss, to his angry proposal.

It was not an easy decision to make, but it was the right one.

Benedict had never wanted this marriage, having only agreed to it for the sake of his brother’s name, as well as his own. Growing up, love and romance were not concepts he had ever thought to experience, as he was not the type. Too hostile. Too vicious. To him, love was like a beautiful vase, fragile and delicate, to be admired from a distance but never handled personally, for he would only break it.

He was not such a fool to completely ignore what had happened between himself and Selina, however. And he understood perfectly well that she was mistaking her fear of him for passion. At first, that might suffice. But the time would come when she would understand who he truly was, that her fear was warranted, that the passion was fleeting, and then she would regret having ever laid eyes on him.

It was fun to think of what could have been. It was tantalizing to imagine his hands around her as he feasted on her without care.

But this was safer. A marriage with an expiration date.

For two months, he would avoid her. For two months, he would pretend that she did not exist. For two months, he would do what he could not to think about her taste and the feel of her and?—

He groaned as his manhood stiffened, and he forced himself to resume writing to his brother. Two months. It promised to be a very long two months, indeed.

Chapter Ten

“Is something the matter, Your Grace?” Mr. Harris asked one morning as Selina broke her fast alone, as was typical.

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