“A special license,” Daniel muttered, raking his hair with his fingers. “What have we agreed to?”
Although costly, special licenses allowed couples to skip through the traditional public announcements that could delay a marriage for months. The reading of the banns throughout London and all the neighboring villages would only attract more attention. Daphne decided right then and there that she was pleased they might forego them.
“We may have witnessed the swiftest betrothal in Christendom,” Reverend Nicholson said with a laugh.
“To a Duke!” Mrs. Nicholson chimed in, clapping her hands. “It is so romantic for our dear Daphne!” Her smile broadened. “To think that just an hour ago, we were discussing the man as if he were a stranger. And now… well, now he shall be your husband, my lady.”
Daniel shook his head in disbelief, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he absorbed some of Mrs. Nicholson’s enthusiasm. Then, reaching into his coat, he produced a folded roll of banknotes.
“Please, accept this, as thanks for your care of my sister. Consider it a token of our gratitude.”
The Reverend shook his head firmly, smiling. “There is no need, my lord. Your sister’s safety and comfort are rewards enough. It has been our pleasure entirely to host Lady Daphne. Besides, the villagers care for this vicarage well. We want for nothing.”
Daphne’s lips curved into a soft smile. “I cannot thank you enough,” she said, stepping forward. She wrapped Mrs. Nicholson in a gentle hug, feeling the older woman’s warmth and jubilant energy, then turned to embrace the Reverend. “You both made this time so special for me. I shall not forget it. And I do hope, one day soon, that you will visit London. It would be my honor to host you in return.”
Mrs. Nicholson’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, Lady Daphne, what a delight you have been! I would count it a pleasure to visit, and I shall insist on it!”
The Reverend nodded in agreement, his gentle smile reassuring. “Indeed. And do not forget, my lady, that you are always welcome here. Our cottage may pale in the face of grand London mansions, but it is my hope you enjoyed the time you spent here, nonetheless.”
“I did, Reverend. Truly. Thank you,” Daphne nodded again, holding their gazes a moment longer before stepping back.
She glanced at Daniel, who gave her a subtle nod.
It was time. With a deep breath, she went to her room and swiftly packed all her belongings.
Once everything was ready, she bid goodbye to the Nicholsons once more and followed her brother into the grey afternoon.
The chill in the air brushed against her cheeks as they hopped into Daniel’s carriage. On their way out of the village, they encountered three men who handed them a note from the Duke, which ensured they were the men he’d promised he’d sent.
And so, the Duke’s trained men followed their carriage back to London.
Daphne’s thoughts wandered unwillingly to the Duke. He was entwined with her future, and with every step, the weight of that knowledge pressed closer. A part of her braced against it, while another, more curious part could not help but wonder at the man she was to call her betrothed.
After a few hours, Daphne was relieved to see her family’s home roll into view.
At the Grisham townhouse, the lamps glowed against the chill and gloom of a rainy afternoon. The parlor was crowded, filled with a quiet hum of anticipation. Daniel had summoned the family before venturing to the Nicholsons’ abode and it looked as though all her siblings had assembled in the interim.
Marianne stood near the hearth with her husband, Dominic, exchanging low murmurs. Elizabeth and Alasdair occupied the sofa, her delicate hand dwarfed in his much larger one, a quiet comfort between them. Wilhelmina lingered by the window with Gerard, her gaze drifting outside as if measuring the weather, but Daphne knew by the crease in her brow that Mina was contemplating something more serious.
As for Daphne’s twin, she prowled the room with restless energy. Victoria’s every movement was lithe and agile, her presence almost feline, as though she’d pounce or strike at a moment’s notice.
“Tell us what happened,” Victoria demanded, rushing to clutch at her.
“We had a… busy morning,” Daniel sighed. “As all of you know, I was on my way to the Nicholsons after my men informed me that Briarwood had set out for the village. I did manage to arrive before him, but only by a handful of minutes. He came to the cottage, demanding Daphne’s hand.”
“The cur,” Victoria hissed, squeezing Daphne’s hand.
Daphne squeezed back. “It’s all right, Vicky. Let Daniel finish.”
Victoria only pursed her lips. “Sorry, brother. Do go on.”
Daniel nodded. “As I was saying, Briarwood was insistent. But… well, the Duke of Wolfcrest showed up and changed everything.”
“Wolfcrest?” Dominic echoed.
“What washedoing there?” Gerard asked.
“Apparently, the village where the Nicholsons reside is under his care,” Daniel clarified. “He’d heard that the vicar was feeling unwell and come to check on him. And so, he stumbled upon the scene. Before I knew it, he’d declared that he and Daphne were already betrothed.”
