Page 38

“ I must say, the Hartington ball has exceeded my expectations,” Felix declared, raising his champagne glass in a mock toast. “The music is tolerable, the food isn’t poisoning anyone, and Lady Hartington hasn’t cornered me about her unmarried niece even once.”

Rowan smiled despite himself. “The evening is young. Give her time.”

“Speaking of time,” Felix nodded toward the entrance, where Matthew Colfield had just arrived. “Your wife’s former suitor has made an appearance.”

Rowan followed his gaze, studying the viscount with an objectivity that would have been impossible weeks ago. The man looked pleasant enough in his formal attire, though his cravat sat slightly askew. He scanned the room, his face brightening when he spotted someone in the crowd.

“He seems happy,” Selina observed, appearing at Rowan’s side and slipping her hand through his arm. “Miss Thornton must be here.”

“You’re not planning another matchmaking scheme, are you?” Rowan asked, surprising himself with the lightness in his tone.

“I don’t think they need my help anymore,” Selina replied, nodding toward where Matthew now stood, engaged in animated conversation with a pretty young woman. The way he leaned toward her, his entire focus on her words, spoke volumes.

Felix chuckled. “Young love. So earnest, so awkward.”

“As opposed to old love like yours?” Rowan shot back. “Remind me, which widow are you currently pursuing?”

“None at present,” Felix said with exaggerated dignity. “I’m taking a sabbatical from romance to focus on more serious matters.” He winked at Selina. “Like ensuring your husband remembers how to enjoy himself occasionally.”

Selina laughed, the sound drawing Rowan’s gaze to her face. She looked radiant tonight in a gown of deep emerald that brought out the gold in her hair and the warmth in her eyes. The sight of her happy—truly happy—sent a curl of satisfaction through his chest.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Felix said, suddenly spotting someone across the room. “Lady Cromwell just arrived, and she promised to introduce me to her brother about that shipping venture.”

As Felix disappeared into the crowd, Selina leaned closer to Rowan. “He’s not really interested in shipping, is he?”

“Not in the slightest,” Rowan confirmed. “Lady Cromwell’s companion, however…”

Selina shook her head, smiling. “Some things never change.”

They made their way through the ballroom, stopping occasionally to exchange pleasantries with acquaintances. Rowan found himself surprisingly at ease, the social niceties that had once felt like an intolerable burden now merely a backdrop to the pleasure of having Selina by his side.

When they passed Matthew and Miss Thornton, the viscount bowed politely. There was no awkwardness in his manner, only the respectful acknowledgment of a casual acquaintance.

“Your Grace,” he greeted them both. “What a pleasure. May I present Miss Thornton?”

The introductions were made with perfect propriety. Miss Thornton proved charming, her admiration for Matthew evident in the soft glances she cast his way when she thought no one was looking.

“Miss Thornton has a remarkable talent for astronomy,” Matthew said, his chest puffing with pride that had nothing to do with himself. “She’s identified three celestial anomalies that her father is documenting for the Royal Society.”

“How impressive,” Selina replied, genuine interest in her voice. “Perhaps you might show us sometime? Rowan and I have been meaning to learn more about the night sky.”

The couple agreed enthusiastically, and plans were made for a small gathering at Matthew’s country home, where his telescope could be put to good use.

As they moved away, Rowan squeezed Selina’s hand, which rested on his arm. “That was kind of you.”

“It costs nothing to be kind,” she replied. “Besides, I like seeing him happy. He deserves it.”

Rowan studied her profile, struck anew by the generosity of her spirit. “I was wrong about him,” he admitted. “And about many things.”

She turned to him, surprise in her eyes. “Rowan Blackmore admitting he was wrong? Alert the papers.”

Her teasing drew a laugh from him, the sound surprising a passing matron who had only ever seen the Duke of Aldermere’s more severe countenance.

“Don’t look now,” Selina murmured, “but Lady Winsley is by the punch bowl.”

Rowan glanced over casually. Annette stood with a small group of women, her blonde hair arranged in an elaborate style emphasizing her still-youthful beauty. As if sensing his gaze, she looked up, her eyes briefly meeting his before sliding away with studied indifference.

“She’s keeping her distance tonight,” he observed.

“A welcome change,” Selina replied.

They spent the rest of the evening among friends, dining with the Emberfords and dancing several sets together. When Robert and Georgiana mentioned their upcoming house party, Selina accepted for both of them without hesitation, her hand finding Rowan’s under the table.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked later as they walked to their carriage. “I know you prefer London to country visits.”

“I prefer being wherever you are,” he said, the truth of it catching them both by surprise. “Besides, Emberford has excellent fishing streams.”

Her smile was worth any number of country house parties.

The ride home passed in comfortable conversation about the evening. Selina’s head eventually came to rest against his shoulder, her voice growing softer as fatigue caught up with her.

“You were wonderful tonight,” she murmured as the carriage turned onto their street. “Even with Matthew.”

“He makes it easy,” Rowan admitted. “It’s clear he only has eyes for Miss Thornton now.”

“And you only have eyes for me,” she said with sleepy certainty.

It was true, he realized. Somewhere along the way, his world had narrowed to this one point, this one person. He had returned to London a man consumed with vengeance. Now, vengeance seemed a pale shadow compared to what he had found with Selina.

They climbed the stairs together, dismissing Simmons with assurances they could see themselves to bed. In their chambers, Rowan helped Selina out of her gown, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her shoulders.

“I love you,” she said suddenly, turning to face him.

The words hung in the air between them, simple and profound. He had known, of course—had seen it in her eyes, felt it in her touch. But hearing it spoken aloud still stole his breath.

Before he could find the words to answer, she pressed her fingers gently to his lips. “You don’t need to say it back. Not until you’re ready.”

He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Selina?—”

But she silenced him with a kiss, her lips moving against his with a hunger that matched his own. His hands found the fastenings of her nightgown, fingers trembling slightly as he loosened the ribbons at her throat.

“Selina,” he breathed against her mouth, her name a prayer on his lips.

She answered by drawing him down to her, her hands sliding beneath his shirt to explore the warm expanse of his chest. He shuddered at her touch, his own hands mapping the curves of her body through the thin fabric that separated them.

When he pushed the nightgown from her shoulders, she didn’t shy away from his reverent gaze. Instead, she reached for him, pulling him closer until there was nothing between them but heated skin and whispered words.

He worshipped her with his hands and mouth, learning every sensitive spot that made her gasp and arch beneath him. She responded with equal fervor, her touch bold and certain as she explored the man who had become everything to her.

By the time they came together, they were both trembling with need, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as moonlight streamed through the windows.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting golden patterns across the bed where they lay entwined. Rowan woke first, his body still weighted with pleasant exhaustion. Selina slept against his chest, her breath warm against his skin, her hair a tangle of gold across the pillow they shared.

He watched her sleep, cataloging every detail—the fan of her lashes against her cheek, the slight curve of her lips, the faint freckles across her nose that only appeared in summer. Something tightened in his chest, a feeling so overwhelming it bordered on pain.

This was love, he realized. Not the polite affection he had expected from marriage, but something fierce and protective that threatened to consume him entirely.

When her eyes finally fluttered open, he couldn’t resist kissing her. She responded instantly, her body curving into his, her hands sliding into his hair.

“Good morning,” she whispered against his lips.

“Indeed it is,” he agreed, pulling her closer.

They traded lazy kisses, hands wandering with the familiar ease of lovers who had learned each other’s bodies well. There was no rush, no urgency—only the quiet pleasure of touch and connection.

Eventually, Selina pulled away with a reluctant sigh. “I need water.”

She slipped from the bed, wrapping a robe around her nakedness as she moved to the table where a pitcher and glasses stood ready. The morning light caught in her hair, turning it to molten gold.

She poured a glass, her movements graceful and unhurried. When she raised it to her lips, something changed. Her brow furrowed, and she lowered the glass without drinking.

“What is it?” Rowan asked, propping himself up on one elbow.

“Nothing, I just—” She swayed suddenly, one hand shooting out to steady herself against the table. The glass slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor.

Rowan was already moving, throwing back the covers and crossing the room in three strides. He reached her just as her knees buckled, catching her before she could hit the floor.

“Selina!” Her name tore from his throat as he gathered her into his arms. Her skin felt clammy, her pulse racing beneath his fingers. “Selina, can you hear me?”