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“ H ow is my favorite countess today?” Isabella asked, her face brightening as Selina was shown into the morning room.

Selina smiled, crossing to embrace her friend. “No longer a countess, remember? And you look far too well-rested for a mother with a newborn.”

Isabella laughed, gesturing for Selina to take a seat beside her. “The benefits of having three nurses, though I insist on doing the night feedings myself. David says I’m mad, but those quiet moments are precious.”

The Bingham country home radiated warmth and ease, from its cheerful draperies to the fresh flowers thoughtfully placed on every table.

Sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting a soft glow across Isabella’s face.

Motherhood clearly suited her. She looked rested, peaceful, and entirely content.

“I want to see this little one who’s kept you from all the London gatherings,” Selina said, accepting a cup of tea from the maid.

Isabella smiled and pulled the bell cord. “She just woke from her nap, according to Nurse. Perfect timing for a visit from her godmother.”

“Godmother?” Selina paused, surprised, and set her cup down. “You didn’t say?—”

“We wanted to ask you in person.” Isabella reached for her hand. “David and I would be honored if you’d stand as Lily’s godmother. She needs a woman of strength and heart to look up to.”

Tears pricked at Selina’s eyes. “The honor is mine. Truly.”

A soft knock broke the moment, and the nurse stepped in, carrying a small bundle wrapped in lace and linen. Isabella’s expression shifted instantly, her features glowing as she reached for her daughter.

“Here she is,” she said, voice low with wonder. “Lily Elizabeth Bingham, may I present Her Grace, the Duchess of Aldermere, your godmother.”

Selina leaned forward, her breath catching as she took in the tiny, perfect face. Lily’s eyes were open, a dark blue so vivid it seemed to drink in the light. A soft curl of hair lay against her forehead.

“She’s beautiful,” Selina whispered. “May I hold her?”

Isabella transferred the baby carefully into Selina’s arms. The weight of her, so light yet so substantial, awakened a longing Selina hadn’t realized was there.

A child of her own. A family.

“You look quite natural with her,” Isabella observed.

“She makes it easy.” Selina brushed a finger over the baby’s velvet cheek. “Such a good girl.”

“She saves her lung power for the middle of the night, I assure you.” Isabella watched them with evident pleasure. “Now tell me everything. How goes married life with your mysterious duke?”

Selina kept her eyes on the baby, unwilling to let her friend see her expression. “As well as can be expected.”

“That poorly?” Isabella’s voice sharpened. “What has he done?”

“Nothing, truly. He’s simply…” Selina sighed. “Distant. Secretive. He disappears for days with no explanation. Returns looking exhausted but refuses to discuss where he’s been.”

“Sounds like a complete ogre,” Isabella declared. “A troll. An absolute boar of a man.”

Selina couldn’t help laughing at her friend’s outrage. “He’s not that bad.”

“A tyrant, then. A veritable despot.” Isabella warmed to her theme. “A brooding, mysterious creature who desperately needs a good shaking.”

“Thank you for that assessment,” Selina said, her spirits lifting despite herself. “I’ll be sure to mention your diagnosis next time we speak.”

“Please do. I have several more colorful descriptions should you require them.” Isabella’s expression softened. “In all seriousness, Selina. Are you happy?”

Selina considered the question as Lily’s tiny fingers curled around her thumb. “Not unhappy, precisely. Frustrated. Confused. There are moments when he seems to care deeply, then he retreats behind his walls again.”

“Men can be maddening creatures,” Isabella agreed. “Though they generally have reasons for their behavior, however incomprehensible to us.”

“I wish he would simply talk to me.” Selina reluctantly handed Lily back when she began to fuss. “These constant disappearances, the secrets… how am I to build a marriage on such shaky ground?”

Isabella settled the baby against her shoulder, patting her back gently. “Perhaps what you need is a distraction. Something to draw him out of his shell.”

“Such as?”

“A dinner party. Something small and intimate, with friends.” Isabella’s eyes lit with inspiration. “Why not tomorrow night? David and I are staying in London until next week. We could join you.”

“That might be pleasant,” Selina agreed. “Though I fear Rowan may refuse to attend.”

“Then he’ll miss a delightful evening, and you’ll enjoy yourself regardless.” Isabella shifted Lily to her other shoulder. “Invite the Emberfords as well. And perhaps young Lord Penderwick? David says he’s utterly hopeless with women and could use some guidance.”

Selina raised an eyebrow. “You want me to invite my former suitor to dine with my current husband?”

“Precisely. Nothing breaks the ice quite like awkward social situations.” Isabella grinned. “Say you will. I’ve been desperate for adult conversation that doesn’t revolve around infant digestion.”

“How could I refuse such a compelling argument?” Selina laughed. “Tomorrow night, then. I’ll send the invitations as soon as I return to London.”

Maybe a dinner party was just what she needed. A chance to bring people together. A way to build something real in this strange, uncertain space her marriage had become.

“I confess, my approach was entirely wrong,” Matthew admitted, his face flushed with laughter and wine. “I had composed an elaborate speech about celestial bodies and promptly forgot every word the moment Miss Thornton smiled at me.”

The dinner party had exceeded Selina’s expectations. The small group had formed an easy camaraderie, formality dissolving into genuine warmth as the evening progressed.

“What did you say instead?” David asked, clearly enjoying the viscount’s discomfort.

“I believe my exact words were, ‘Stars. Lovely. You too.” Matthew groaned as the table erupted in laughter. “She must think me a complete fool.”

“Not at all,” Robert interjected kindly. “Ladies appreciate sincerity over practiced speeches. When I courted Georgiana, I once became so flustered I accidentally recited shipping manifests instead of poetry.”

“And I found it utterly charming,” Georgiana confirmed, patting her husband’s hand.

“The secret,” David said, leaning toward Matthew conspiratorially, “is confidence. Or at least the appearance of it. Stand straight. Speak clearly. Look her in the eye.”

“But not excessively,” Robert qualified. “There’s a fine line between meaningful eye contact and unsettling staring.”

“And for heaven’s sake, discuss something besides yourself,” David continued. “Ask questions about her interests. Listen to the answers.”

“Then repeat them back in your next conversation to show you were paying attention,” Robert added. “Ladies notice such things.”

“Truly?” Matthew looked between them with desperate hope. “Is it that simple?”

“Simple, no. Effective, yes.” David raised his glass. “To Lord Penderwick’s imminent success with the fair Miss Thornton.”

“Hear, hear,” the table chorused.

Selina smiled, heart full as she observed the scene. This was what she had imagined married life might be—good food, good company, her home filled with laughter and conversation. If only Rowan had been there to share it.

As if conjured by her thoughts, the dining room door opened. Simmons appeared, his face carefully expressionless.

“Your Grace, the Duke of Aldermere has returned and asks to join you.”

A brief, startled silence fell over the table. Selina was the first to recover. “Of course. Please show him in.”

Chairs scraped as the party stood. Rowan entered a moment later, no longer in travel clothes but dressed appropriately for the evening. His gaze moved around the room, sharp and assessing, pausing on Lord Penderwick with a flicker of displeasure before landing on Selina.

“Your Grace,” she said, summoning as much warmth as she could. “What a surprise. We weren’t expecting you so soon. Allow me to introduce our guests.”

Rowan kept staring at her, “If I might have a word, Duchess. In private.”

The bluntness of it sent a flush to her cheeks. “Of course,” she said, keeping her voice steady. Turning to her guests, she added, “Please continue with dessert. We’ll return shortly.”

She led him from the dining room and into his study, the tension between them stretching taut.

Once the door closed behind them, she turned to face him.

“When did you return?” she asked.

“Just now.” Anger simmered beneath his controlled tone. “Imagine my surprise when Simmons informed me you were hosting a dinner party. With your former suitor among the guests.”

“Lord Penderwick is a friend,” Selina replied, maintaining her composure. “Nothing more.”

“He’s a man who nearly married you.”

Heat rose to Selina’s face. “Am I not mistress of this household? Is it not my place to entertain guests when my husband is perpetually absent on mysterious business?”

“That’s not the point,” Rowan growled, stepping closer. “The point is you invited him, specifically.”

“Yes, because he needed guidance in courting Miss Thornton.” Selina didn’t back away, matching his intensity. “If you’d bothered to observe for five minutes instead of glowering, you might have noticed Lord Bingham and the Duke of Emberford offering him advice. He’s here as a friend, nothing more.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I expect you to trust me,” Selina retorted. “Though I can’t imagine why I should expect anything from a husband who treats his wife like an ornament to be ignored.”

Rowan’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Is that what you think?”

“What else should I think?” Selina’s voice rose despite her efforts to control it. “You disappear for days without explanation. You return with cuts and bruises but refuse to share what troubles you. You treat me with cold courtesy except for those rare moments when you seem to forget yourself.”