Chapter Four
“P-Pardon?” Daphne asked, her voice sounding squeaky and nearly an octave higher than normal.
Fear gripped her at the thought of being thrown from one man to another, like a dog’s bone. However, something was different with this man. Yes, she was shocked, but she also wanted to know what he had to say for himself.
In one light, it looked as though he was rushing to her rescue, saving her from the dreadful Briarwood. But, in another way, she saw how his hasty actions did neither of them justice. She knew next to nothing about this man and there was no telling if he would prove to be formidable, as the reverend had mentioned earlier, or if he would show her kindness.
The Duke of Wolfcrest’s intriguing eyes were on hers. Amber. Like a wolf in the wild. Yet beneath the icy calm, she could easily detect a message.
Play along.
She was somehow stupefied by the possibility that someone was trying to get her to play at all. She was always a pawn, a piece to be manipulated, ever under her mother’s thumb. Daphne had only ever been a pretty thing to be used to win favors.
Her heart hammered in her chest as her whole existence felt illuminated. It was as if she was experiencing everything at the same time: the incredulity in Briarwood’s eyes, the bafflement in Daniel’s and the Nicholsons’ quiet confusion.
None of the people in the cottage seemed to accept the words uttered by the Duke. It was as if they all were waiting for someone else to say that it was all a jest. Through all the speculation the Duke looked composed. His face was even full of affection, as if he was truly standing in front of his betrothed.
“I… I am quite well, Your Grace,” she managed to say louder, even though her throat had gone dry. “And you?”
Somehow, she managed a small smile. Someone who knew her might even say she looked shy, then, which was not difficult to believe.
“And I am much better now that I’m here with you this morning,” he replied smoothly, smiling at her.
His gaze conveyed an appearance of infatuation towards her, even though it was only an act.
He was so close, but she still felt safe. He was not crowding her but was within her space enough to let his scent of cedar and rain waft towards her. She had to stop herself from inhaling him deeply. It was strange behavior coming from her.
“After our conversation last night, I hastened here as soon as I could manage this morning. Forgive my tardiness. I assure you that I was most eager to see you, my lady,” he said in a low voice that was meant supposedly for her.
But the cottage was small, and she swore everyone heard those words clearly. She gulped once, her heart beating fast as she tried her best to keep her composure.
Please, let this work.
“You wanted to see her?” Briarwood’s jaw was clenched, and he was openly glaring at the Duke.
“Ah, my apologies, my lords. I was quite taken by my lady’s beauty that I forgot my manners. Lord Grisham, Lord Briarwood.” The Duke gave a charming smile and a bow to her brother and the Earl. “I must say this is a lovely surprise. I was not expecting more company this morning other than my betrothed and the Nicholsons.”
“Indeed, Your Grace,” Briarwood grunted, his knuckles white as he gripped his cane. “I had not expected to see you here, either.”
Possibly by instinct, Daniel moved to block Briarwood from getting any closer to Daphne. The Duke shifted to his side.
“My lord,” the Duke said, “I must offer my apologies. I have not asked you for your approval properly.”
“My approval?” the young marquess echoed, looking completely confounded.
Daphne was speechless throughout, her chest tight from the tension around her. Then, the Duke looked her way. It was a direct, unflinching glance, meant to read her soul.
She nodded.
“Yes, Daniel,” she said. She twisted her hands in front of her, trying to hide the fact that they were trembling. “His Grace and I have, well, we’ve grown fond of each other and?—”
“What?” Briarwood interrupted bitterly, disbelief clear on his face. He was turning red, not from shame but outrage.
“Quite so,” the Duke confirmed. “In fact, I have already asked for her hand in marriage, and she’s accepted. The only logical step after that was to contact Lord Grisham, of course, but my dear Daphne has assured me that her brother is most invested in her happiness. She said he would not stand in our way.” The Duke tipped his head to the side and gave Daphne a roguish smile. “You are proud to call yourself my betrothed, are you not, my love?”
Daphne bit the inside of cheek before she offered a sweet smile. “Of course, Your Grace. It gives me the greatest happiness indeed.”
“Well, that settles it, then. What say you, Lord Grisham? Shall we discuss the marriage contract when we all return to London?”
