But in the future, who knew? Perhaps she’d take on a real lover. Here, within this bedchamber, where her husband could hear her cries of pleasure. Ah, yes, she would torment him as he’d tormented her.

She would even visit Aiden’s club, enjoy all the vices he offered. No longer would she live in fear of displeasing her husband, of displeasing any man. She would seek and find the happiness and joy that had eluded her for a good portion of her life.

Selena wasn’t surprised when the door to her bedchamber quietly opened a little after midnight and Aiden wandered in, closing and locking it behind him. Setting aside the book she’d been reading, she was grateful that he’d come to her, had hoped he would.

Confronting his father—his sire—had to have created an emotional turmoil within him.

Tossing off the covers, she slipped out of the bed, meeting him halfway, closing her arms around him as his circled her, holding her near. His sigh was long, drawn out, and she could feel the tension easing out of him.

“I have whisky,” she whispered. She’d brought up a bottle and a glass, just in case he came to her.

“All I need is you.”

His words humbling her, her heart squeezed as tightly as her eyes. Lifting her mouth to him, she waited as he lowered his to hers. No fire, no passion, only want and intense need. She could comfort him now as she’d wanted to from the moment Lady Elverton had revealed who she was. In spite of Aiden telling Selena that things were over between them, she did not have it within her to ever turn him away. Their discussion last night had escalated beyond her control, and in spite of harsh words uttered, still she’d known he could come to her. Still she’d been willing to welcome him.

Not releasing her hold on him, she guided them backward until her bottom hit the mattress. Easing away slightly, she cradled his beloved face between her hands, seeing in his countenance all three of his parents. The Earl and Countess of Elverton were responsible for the hills, valleys, and dips, the strong jaw, the sharp nose, the lush mouth, the shade of his eyes. But Ettie Trewlove had shaped the soul those eyes reflected, the smile that came so easily, the laugh that had first sung to her own soul. The physical features were nothing without the light that shone within him. Yes, there was a darkness to it, but it wasn’t powerful enough to put out the flame, only to reshape it and make him more complicated and faceted.