Elara instinctively shoved the marquess off and jolted upright. She scrambled to gather her scattered clothes from the floor, glancing at Reynand's flushed, annoyed face as he sat on the edge of the table where she had pushed him.
"I'm sorry… I'm really sorry… I told you this was a bad idea," she muttered, fumbling with her corset, the ties refusing to cooperate under her haste.
"No… I am sorry. I shouldn't—" Reynand's words cut off at the sound of the library door clicking open.
Elara gasped and darted behind the bookcase, still half-dressed.
She caught sight of her husband, just as startled as she, but he quickly straightened his composure. Thankfully, he had not undressed yet.
"Ah, Your Grace, forgive me, Princess Agatha was eager to pick the marchioness for her evening walk," Agatha's nursemaid said with a bow as she stepped inside.
