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Selina scoffed, pulling herself back from her mother as the words slapped her harder than a hand.

“Surely, you are jesting with me.” Selina couldn’t contain the venom in her voice.

“ Surely , you are not implying that I, the daughter who said nothing about being married off when she had only just become a woman, do not know what it is to make sacrifices. I have done it freely, and frankly, I have done it enough.”

Stepping forward, her mother reached for Selina’s cheek, brushing her thumb across her flesh in slow, gentle strokes. The elder Dowager sighed, shaking her head as an expression of recognition and sorrow passed over her older features.

But as quickly as it was there, Selina watched it die on her mother’s face as she clicked her tongue and shook her head. With a firm pat on her cheek, the woman straightened herself and dropped her chin to stare harshly into Selina’s eyes.

“If you had had an heir, this would not be a problem. We’ll never know if it was your husband’s advanced years that prevented it, but a fact is a fact. And alas, this is where we have found ourselves, and we must make the best of it.”

Nausea struck Selina like a lightning strike. She fought to school her expression, not hinting at the deep, painful secret that Selina still carried to this day.

He never touched me once, Mother. Not a single time. I will never know if I could have conceived for him, and we both wanted it that way.

“And ensure you are presentable, hmm?” Her mother straightened a bow on Selina’s dress, twisting the fabric into the position she demanded from it though Selina could see it beginning to angle itself again. “We all need to make the best possible impression.”

“Don’t blame her mother,” Lydia cut in. “She hasn’t had to worry over being presentable since her husband died.”

Fury roared up Selina’s throat, choking her, and she shot a glare back at her younger sister.

Keeping the vitriol that she wished to unleash upon Lydia was like fighting back the need to breathe.

As it was, the compression of her corset still dug into her, and Selina again tried to relieve some of the ache in her ribs by adjusting herself within the sheath of fabric.

“At least we get to attend a ball,” Lydia added. “It has been so long since we’ve been able to enjoy ourselves properly. I am so excited about purchasing a new dress!”

Selina would not roll her eyes at that. She vaguely remembered the joy of her youth before responsibility pressed down on her like a lead weight.

Still, Lydia was working her last nerve, and Selina was becoming more and more desperate for some time alone to relax.

Moreover, she needed to keep up a level of pretense with even her family.

Her sisters and mother didn’t know how much she simply tolerated shopping and balls.

To them, she was as excited about them as Lydia.

But the need to speak up wouldn’t be quelled. “Sister, it is a ball in the new Duke’s honor. It is not a celebration but a means to butter up the man. That’s hardly the occasion for such exuberance.”

“That is your opinion, Selina.” Lydia eyed her, pulling Myra closer by looping her arm through the youngest’s and yanking her to her side. “We are looking forward to it.”

“Do not drag me into this, Lydia.” Myra hauled herself away, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the gathering of Figgins women. “I wish only to be presentable enough to enjoy a quiet evening and return to bed.”

Unsurprisingly, Myra wasn’t concerned with appealing to the new Duke.

Selina envied her ability to express herself so openly.

Some appearances needed to be maintained at all costs for Selina.

She didn’t even trust the servants to keep their mouths shut about her true feelings, not when the ton was so willing to finance those who brought forth the most scandalous of rumors.

I shall not survive this at this rate. If only there were a way to talk sense into the new Duke, to get him to see that I am no concern unwed.

Nausea still dragged along her spine, peaking every moment that she fought for a deep breath. The stays she wore had clearly been laundered incorrectly or wound too tightly. Everything was too much, and flecks of black appeared in her vision as the edges of it became fuzzy.

“Lydia, please just?—”

But Selina’s words were silenced as she heard the sound of an approaching carriage just beyond the front door. They’d tarried in the hallway for some time now, and she shot a glance over her shoulder to the foyer as the sound of hoofbeats and turning wheels grew louder and then stopped.

He was here.

In a flurry of motion, they all rushed toward the front door, even the servants and Myra, who had both been trying to put distance between themselves and the brewing storm that gathered around Selina and her mother.

But regardless of how anyone felt about the man, it didn’t stop the surge in energy that took place at his arrival.

Selina was not an imbecile. She would not be hostile toward the Duke, nor would she flagrantly speak down or be disrespectful toward him. He was a necessity at this point, and she could honor that, even if in her heart, she already despised the man.

Just as they were all forming a line at the door to receive him, the entrance lit up as a crack of light streamed into the foyer.

Bridget finished tidying the girl’s clothing and hair in a hurry, Selina glaring at her mother to keep her from doing the same to her, and everyone collectively held their breath.

The door opened next. Selina struggled to find the oxygen she needed, taking in tiny sips of air through her nose.

They all turned and faced the carriage that sat at the bottom of the estate steps.

The small door in the side of the coach opened, and exiting the interior like a sweeping wave of dark water, the Duke of Soulden appeared.

Everything was silent, which was a feat in and of itself considering who she stood next to. The man before them was different. His tall frame was broad with acquired muscle, and his dark hair was slightly ruffled, no doubt from hours of travel.

When he looked up from the ground, their stares connected, and Selina found herself reeling under the weight of his unrelenting gaze.

It betrayed no emotion, but the striking green color was something she’d never seen before.

He was certainly handsome, and her heart skipped around behind her ribs as he drew nearer.

I cannot breathe. Why does he stare like that? I… cannot… I…

The ruthless air around the man became increasingly pronounced as he drew closer, a dark curtain of intensity that swallowed up the light before it reached him. The hard line of his mouth was set as straight as an arrow, no joy or interest there but only stern observation.

“Your Grace!” her mother exclaimed. “We are so thrilled to welcome you to the estate.”

He didn’t so much as cast a single look in her direction, his eyes instead landing on Selina and pinning there like a fixed point in space.

She pulled into herself, intimidated as much as she didn’t want to be.

Hazy flecks of black began to consume more and more of her vision, the blurred black aura at the edges becoming larger and larger.

Oh, no. This isn’t… Bugger.

The entirety of the view in front of her was swallowed up into shadow, and as she fought to breathe, failing miserably and aching from head to foot as a result, Selina’s eyes fluttered closed, and she collapsed.