Page 33 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

“Positive.”

“This early…” He glanced at the window, the early morning sun still shining as if to emphasize the point.

“I am aware of the time, Harris,” Selina responded pointedly. “Now, please, a plate and a glass of wine.” She raised an eyebrow at him in warning, not in the mood to argue… or be judged.

She was done. Unequivocally, unapologetically done. She had extended an olive branch. She had tried to find a middle ground. She had put herself out there in an effort to bring a sense of civility into this marriage so that the next two months would be bearable. And in response, her husband had spat in her face.

It was just so strange. They had spoken honestly for the first time. They had made it through a conversation without fighting! The future had looked bright, and she had looked forward to what might come next.

Now, to put it simply, she did not care one little bit about civility or decorum or trying to make the best of a bad situation. With how she was feeling, what she wanted more than anything was revenge. Petty, spiteful revenge.

“Your Grace…” Mr. Harris swept back into the room with a plate balanced on his hand. “Here is your breakfast, as requested. Regarding the wine, if you will allow me a few more minutes to find a bottle, for the one from last night was?—”

“Never mind the wine,” Selina cut him off as he placed the plate before her. “I have changed my mind.”

“Oh? Wonderful, Your Grace. I did not want to push, but it is my thought that it is far too early to be drinking.”

“I could not agree more.” An idea had come to mind, a most wicked one. “In fact, I was just thinking of something that you mentioned a few days ago.”

“Concerning?”

“You suggested that I might learn a musical instrument. The flute, I believe was your suggestion.”

“Ah, yes.” He brightened. “A most excellent idea. If you will allow me, I can send for an instructor. I know a few who?—”

“No need for that,” she reassured him. “I am a quick study and would relish the chance to learn on my own.”

He frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She smiled. “All I need is time and a room for practice. In fact, I noticed that the room beside His Grace’s study is empty.”

Mr. Harris hesitated. “It is empty, yes. His Grace wanted it so, for he requires silence for his work.”

“Perfect.” She pulled the plate of food toward her. “Take the flute to that room, won’t you? I will be there as soon as I finish here.”

“Your Grace…”

“That will be all, Harris.” She smiled pleasantly at him and then shooed him away.

It was a petty idea. It was bound to anger her husband terribly. But that was also the point.

He wanted to ignore her? He wanted to pretend that she did not exist? Selina could not help but laugh as she pictured the look on her husband’s face when he came to learn that she was not one to be dismissed so easily.

Likely, it would lead to a fight, but that was better than nothing. Such was the state of Selina’s marriage.

At first, Benedict thought that he was imagining it.

Unable to get any real work done, because the guilt he felt at not joining Selina for breakfast was worse than he could have possibly imagined, he’d resigned himself to sitting in his study and waiting.

Waiting until he was sure that Selina was finished downstairs. Waiting until he was certain she had left the house for the day. Waiting until he could stomach running into her by accident and not being completely undone by it.

It promised to be a rather long and painful day.

But then he heard… something. He wasn’t certain what it was, at first. Music, although that was a rather generous term for the noise that broke the silence in his study. There was no melody to it. No rhythm. Just noise.

He sat listening as the noise built. It was coming from the room next door, he was certain. And the longer he listened, the more he became certain what instrument was being played—a flute. Although it didn’t sound as if someone was playing it so much as trying to torture his eardrums, as if he was a prisoner of war withholding precious information.

About to stand up and see what the heck was going on, the door suddenly popped open, and Mr. Harris hurried inside.

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