Page 38 of A Duchess Untouched

Harleigh chuckled and said, “Nonsense, my dear! A woman like the Dowager does not want peace. She may appear to want it, yes, but a woman of her stature and beauty really truly desires to be properly admired. And I am more than willing to provide her with that appreciation.”

“What I want, Mr. Quinten,” the Dowager declared coldly, “is to eat my breakfast in silence.”

Harleigh tilted his head to one side and studied the Dowager, his eyes twinkling with mischief and a stubborn confidence that even his daughter could not quite grasp.

“If you truly did not like me, Your Grace, you would have chosen to have your tray brought to your bedchambers. However, I will take your decision to eat breakfast with me every day as a sign that you want to see me.”

The Dowager would probably explode in anger if Harleigh continued his impertinent comments. She certainly could not believe what she was hearing from him, nor could Selina.

The young Duchess felt she had stayed for breakfast too long. The throbbing in her temple was worsening, and the room felt stiflingly hot. Normally, the aroma of ham, eggs, and tea would energize her. This morning was different. Everything felt suffocating, thick, and dizzying. Her mind had also drifted elsewhere.

Matthew…

Selina could not believe he had actually left after everything. It was almost as if what had happened between them had spurred him to flee or simply avoid her. For the past forty-eight hours, she had stayed up, waiting for his shadow to pass the corridor. She had become a beggar for any scrap he could offer.

‘He will seek you out himself.’

Her Grandmama was definitely wrong this time. After her visit to her family, she had returned home with her heart pounding. She was now ashamed of how eager and nervous she had been. How foolish…

Just like the time she was supposed to seduce her husband, she had dressed meticulously. She had sat in the drawing room, hoping he would pass by. She had looked through the windows to see if she could see him coming and going. Every attempt had been a failure. He had just left with no word of whether he would ever return.

Just what could he be doing out there? Drinking? Gambling? Women?

Even though the mere thought pained her, Selina was desperate to know what could be so much more enjoyable than spending time with her. Perhaps she had done something wrong. It was also possible that their reckless moment together did not mean as much to him as it did to her. After all, was he not a rake?

He had not truly lost all of his control. It was only I who did.

It was her inexperience that had probably driven him away. Her cheeks flushed at the thought that she should have touched him, too. She had been too focused on her pleasure to realize that consummation required both husband and wife to find satisfaction. He had been so big and hard. Would it have been painful for him to strain against his breeches without release? He had used his hands on her. Could she have done the same for him? Perhaps he had to flee Wentley House to find someone who could give him what she could not?

No, I should stop thinking about those things.

Selina could no longer bear sitting at the breakfast table. Not only was there still bickering between Antoinette and her papa, but she had to remain in front of them, pretending that her body was not aflame and her mind troubled.

“Pray excuse me,” Selina murmured as she rose from her chair and pushed herself up. “I have a terrible headache and would like to get some air.”

She was not even lying about the headache. Her temples still throbbed. Antoinette gave her a curt nod, but she was still glaring at Harleigh.

“Go, my dear. I wish I could do the same. Perhaps after I am done with breakfast, I can avoid unwanted company,” her mother-in-law said.

“Would you like me to accompany you, Selina?” her father asked, looking somewhat concerned.

“No, Papa. Thank you. After a quick stroll in the garden, I have business to attend to,” Selina replied, hoping that her voice was not too sharp.

She then rushed out of the room before either of them could find a reason to make her stay, and when she encountered Ruth, she changed her mind about that stroll entirely.

“Dear Ruth, please fetch me my cloak and bonnet. I need a carriage immediately,” she ordered.

The maid quickly set her basket of sheets aside and curtsied. “Yes, Your Grace. Are we going to visit Marlow House?”

“Not this time,” Selina replied. She could not return to her grandmama with failure still trailing her. “We are going to the widows’ cottage in the parish district. I have not visited them in days, and they might need me.”

Her marriage was ruined. That was a fact she had already accepted.

She could not control how her husband regarded or treated her. However, she had more agency at her charities. There, she could do what she could to help others. Today, she intended to sort through a delivery of secondhand clothing while the widows worked around her.

That, she hoped, would bring her mind some peace.

The parish hall door opened with a clatter Selina had missed. Stepping inside, she was reminded how chilly the stone entrance was. She made a mental note to address it later. The widows deserved better.