Page 71 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

“Should we not?”

“Of course not!” His face was turning red. “I simply meant?—”

“Oh, he knows what you meant,” Lady Langham sighed. “And honestly, Leopold, pull yourself together.” She indicated the droplets of sweat at his feet. “Lest we need to call a footman over to clean up the mess you are making.”

“I am sorry, Teresa. Truly, I never meant to?—”

“You did,” she cut him off with a triumphant look. “And the only reason you’re apologizing now is because you were caught. But I shall have my solicitors visit you on the morrow, and I expect them to be made to feel welcome.”

“They will be!”

“Good.” Her smile was vicious, and Benedict could not help but chuckle, for he could see where her daughter got it from. “Have a pleasant evening, Leopold. Always lovely to see you.”

Lord Langham bowed deeply and then made himself scarce.

Benedict sighed as he watched the man scamper away. The cowardice on display was less than pathetic, and sometimes he wondered how some men had managed to secure titles that they were so clearly undeserving of.

“Much better,” Lady Langham said with a sigh of relief. “Your Grace, I thank you.”

“Not a problem at all, I was glad to do it.”

“Selina will be thrilled,” she added.

“I am sure she will be. Speaking of which…” Benedict suddenly realized that he had not seen Selina since he left with her mother, and while he was not worried, he would be remiss not to admit that he missed her. “Have you seen your daughter anywhere?”

“Not for a few minutes. But I am sure she is fine.”

“Yes…” He cast his gaze over the ballroom. “I am sure she is.”

It was a silly thing, but Benedict had become so used to having Selina by his side that without her, he felt somewhat exposed. Naked, in a way. Hyperaware of those watching him. When she was with him, he felt as if he could do anything.

But without her… Suddenly, he wished to be anywhere but at this event. The whispers seemed to grow. The disgusted stares lingered. The looks of horror returned.

“If you see your daughter, let her know I have stepped outside for?—”

There was a tap on his shoulder, and Benedict turned around, his heart fluttering and his panic receding to find Selina standing right there, looking up at him. She did not smile. She did not feign enthusiasm. But the look she fixed him with… there was something different about it.

“Selina,” he sighed with relief. “I was just about to look for you.”

“Look no further.”

Still, she watched him curiously. A slight tilt to her lips. A light behind her eyes that was for him only. It went beyond the looks of adoration she had made sure to give him all evening—they paled in comparison, as if they were mere imitations of how she was looking at him right now.

“Is something the matter?” he asked. “You look… different.”

Her smile widened, but it did not become exaggerated. “Would you care for a dance?”

His stomach dropped. “A dance?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “A dance.”

Benedict did not dance. Not only was he clumsy, but to dance meant to put himself at the center of attention, to invite people to watch him—dare them too. Tonight was about being seen, yes, but dancing before the crowd was a step too far.

“I…” He leaned back. “I am not sure that is such a good idea.”

She did not roll her eyes or poke fun at him. Rather, she gently took his hand and held it. “It will be fine, Benedict. Trust me.”

“But…” He bit his lip. “Is it necessary? Surely, we have done enough to convince these people that we are…” He swallowed. “In love.”

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