He’d do anything to claim her.
No. She couldn’t bear this anymore. She couldn’t let her family suffer like this. Not when they fought so hard for her.
She’d have to fight back for them, too.
“My lord,” she began to say.
“Daphne. Do not,” Daniel hissed, his eyes wide—he knew how to read her.
She gave her brother a pleading look.
Please, let us put an end to this, her eyes begged.
“No,” Daniel whispered, shaking his head.
Daphne took a step forward, “Lord Briarwood, I’ll?—”
But she never finished her sentence.
Just at that moment Daphne heard the approach of another visitor.
She knew the Nicholsons had not been expecting anyone today, so seeing another person enter the household was quite a shock.
But this third man who joined them set himself apart from the rest.
Not only was he looking around at the others with a confused expression on his face, but he also carried a small bouquet of pink, purple, and cornflower blue posies.
The scent of wildflowers filled the air as he strode further forward and Daphne looked up at him, daring to meet his eyes.
This man was tall. He loomed over both Daniel and Briarwood. As his gaze fell upon her, Daphne breathed a sigh.
She immediately recognized him.
This was the stranger from the night before. And, if she had guessed correctly…
He was the Duke of Wolfcrest, their neighbor.
“Good day, Reverend. Mrs. Nicholson,” he greeted, his voice deep. Daphne could not detect the playfulness he displayed the night before. His tone now reflected the gravity of theirsituation. Despite having no knowledge of what was unfolding around him, he was serious. Gruff. “Pardon me for my unannounced visit. I heard the Reverend was unwell, so I thought to inquire after him myself.”
Even as he said those words, his amber eyes were on Daphne. There was an unspoken question there, but she didn’t dare say a word. It was almost like if she made the wrong move, her whole world would shatter into pieces.
“I am feeling much better, Your Grace,” the Reverend replied. He self-consciously fiddled with the buttons on his black waistcoat. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
“I am glad you have recovered from your ailment,” the Duke responded.
Then, without giving either Daniel or Briarwood a sidelong glance, the man marched toward her. He covered the distance between them in two quick and easy strides. To her surprise, he took her bare hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed her knuckles.
The shiver that she felt was not from revulsion. She also didn’t have the urge to pull her hand away.
He glanced up at her and then she saw a wealth of understanding in his eyes.
She had wrongly interrupted his countenance before.
An instant ago, she thought that he had heard nothing of Daniel and Briarwood’s arguments, but now she knew better.
The Duke comprehended the situation entirely.
“And how are you this morning,” he murmured, eyes locked on hers as if no one else existed in the room, “my betrothed?”
