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“Enough!” the Duke growled at Lord Edmund in a way that Selina suspected was common—a tone that brooked no argument. “Am I expected to believe you?”

“It is the truth!”

The Duke groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Again and again, Edmund. How many times do we have to—” He caught his tongue and took a deep, calming breath. “Put your clothes on, now. We’re leaving.”

“But—”

“We will talk about this later,” he growled further.

Lord Edmund recoiled. “A-Alright. Let me just…” He began to look about the room for his clothes. “Where did I put my shirt?”

“Miss Gouldsmith.” The Duke looked at Selina again, not with the same intensity as before, but still with command. “Although I do not know what has happened here, what I would appreciate more than anything is your discretion.”

“Me?” she stammered stupidly.

“And my brother will do that same. No doubt you are aware of what might be said if…” He gestured to his brother, who was now frantically searching for his clothes. “Whatever it is that the two of you did?—”

“We did nothing!”

“That is neither here nor there.”

“Oh! I do not believe—” Selina caught her tongue, her body shaking. She told herself it was anger that did it, but deep down, she sensed it was something else. “Fine! You wish for discretion? How is this for discretion?”

She widened her eyes at him a final time, curled her lip, and then turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

She took a deep breath the moment she was in the hall. It was as if she was fleeing a furnace, for how hot her body ran. Her mind, too, was frazzled and reeling.

What was that?

It was a natural reaction to her anger, that was all. The accusation. The way the Duke had tried to bully her! So large and intimidating, he clearly thought he could dominate her any way he pleased. Even if she was completely innocent. Even if it was his brother who?—

“Oh!” she yelped.

Being in such a hurry, her body not behaving the way it ought to, Selina suddenly lost her footing, and before she knew what was happening, she plummeted to the ground in a painful heap.

“Miss Gouldsmith?” The Duke strode out of the room. “What happened?”

“I fell,” she groaned, almost to herself. “My head…”

“Can you stand by yourself?”

“I… I think so…” She grimaced as she gingerly made to stand up.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!”

Without asking permission, the Duke bent down and scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. For a man of his size, that was practically the case.

“Oh!” Selina yelped again as he lifted her into his arms and pressed her to him. “What are you?—”

“Where is your room?” he asked.

“My… my room?” she repeated, her voice cracking.

“Yes,” he said. “Which way?”

In hindsight, the reason he asked such a thing was obvious, and it was only Selina’s hungover state and shock that had her stammering. But that would come later.

For all the fear she had presumably felt earlier, the way he lifted her and carried andheldher evoked totally unexpected feelings…