Page 66 of The Devil's Accidental Duchess
But Philip paid it no heed as he wandered over to where Selina was playing and subtly passed behind her, whispering, “Meet me in my study in ten minutes.”
He didn’t wait to see her expression or hear her reply. Instead, he circled back to his cones and stood patiently as Zachary released his next throw, acting as if he had not said anything at all.
Five minutes later, he made his excuses to Zachary and meandered back to the manor, taking his time so as not to draw any unwelcome attention.
Was I not clear enough? Did she mishear me?
Philip drummed his fingertips in agitation on the edge of his desk as his eyes darted to the carriage clock for the thousandthtime. He had been counting the minutes until Selina was supposed to arrive, and that time had been up a minute ago.
Should he stay and hope she would turn up? Should he go back outside and repeat the sentiment?
He pushed off the desk, agitated, and paced back and forth in front of the fireplace.
He was about to give up when he heard footsteps. Not coming from the hallway outside, but tapping across the terrace that lay just beyond his study. French doors opened out onto the outside world, and just then, Selina’s face appeared behind the glass.
She pushed the door open and slipped inside, hastily drawing the drapes shut.
“What is going on?” she asked, frowning. “I realize we are soon going to be wed, but we still should not be seen without a chaperone while there are guests here. They will spread all sorts of sordid gossip about us.”
“Then we had better give them something truly incendiary to say,” he said with some relief, though he didn’t approach her.
She tilted her head, searching his face. “What’s wrong? Why do you look cross?”
“I did not care for the way your ex-fiancé was talking to you in such a familiar fashion,” he admitted. “I do not want anyone thinking that there is still an attachment between you.”
A bark of laughter left Selina’s lips. “There was never an attachment between us in the first place. That was part of the problem. I barely knew him at all.” Her eyes narrowed, amusement creasing the corners. “You were not… jealous, were you?”
“You were upset about the maid,” he pointed out. “Do I not have the right to be annoyed by your ex-fiancé?”
Selina smiled from ear to ear. “Youwerejealous.”
“Not in the slightest,” he said, prowling toward her, closing the gap at last, his hands reaching for her waist to pull her against him. “I just wanted to remind you who actually won you.”
