Daniel Brighton, Marquess of Grisham, was her only brother. They shared a father and had different mothers, but the latter didn’t even matter. To her, Daniel was always her protector. She felt utter relief to see him stride toward them with his usual self-assured way.
Tall and lean, he was the epitome of male grace. However, there was also something underneath the easygoing charm—something more calculated.
Daniel quickly faced Lady Frances, who was starting to turn beet red. She and Daphne would now make quite a pair.
“Surely, what happened was merely an accident?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the blushing lady. “You didn’t really mean to stain my sister’s dress. Did you, Lady Frances?”
“N-no, my lord,” Lady Frances stammered. “It was an accident. I apologize for the inconvenience, Lady Daphne.”
Daphne tilted her head toward Lady Frances, as a sign of acceptance, even as the stain bloomed on one of her favorite dresses.
“My dear.” Another saccharine voice piped up, and Daphne immediately recognized it.
Her mother, the Dowager Marchioness of Grisham, joined them, most likely because she saw that everyone seemed to be gawking at her daughter.
As Lady Grisham’s sharp gaze fell on the stain, Daphne swallowed. Her mother was not the sort of woman who would take her children’s side in an argument. She would always think of how thetonwould receive any word or deed, and Daphne was certain she’d be getting an earful soon.
“It is best if you help your sister clean up,” Lady Grisham told Victoria, clearly giving a command, but neither could oppose the wisdom of the instruction as it was most prudent.
Therefore, the twins retreated discreetly, stepping away from the small cluster of people, and scurrying from the room in hopes of finding a private place where they could remove some of the stain from the gown. Daphne nurtured no hopes of saving the garment, the splash of liquid had likely ruined the fabric, but at least she could leave the rest of the crowd behind for a moment.
They did find a quiet room just down the hall where Daphne dabbed at the wine with a bit of cloth. Lady Frances had certainly not done her a favor by selecting red wine as her beverage of choice. The dark color clung stubbornly to the pale, pastel fabric.
“If I could just get my hands on that little wretch…” Victoria fumed as her hands clenched into fists.
“No. Forget about Frances, sister. She’s not worth your energy,” Daphne advised, even as her chest tightened with a growing annoyance.
Her sister huffed and whirled away. “Very well. I’ll fetch a maid to help us.”
Victoria closed the door behind herself as she left, and silence settled like a heavy curtain.
Only then did Daphne fully feel it: the stillness, the sting of humiliation, and the damp chill of her ruined gown. She glanced down again; the stain had spread, forming strange shapes across the silk, like a map to some place she never wished to go. It took every ounce of composure not to cry.
The door swung open, and she started, her breath catching.
Relief rushed in before sense could stop it.
“That was quick, Vicky,” she began?—
—but the words faltered.
Tonight, it seemed, fortune had elected to betray her entirely. For it was not Victoria standing in the doorway.
It was Lord Briarwood.
The one man she had spent all evening trying to avoid.
The Earl swaggered into the room looking for all the world like someone who had never had to suffer any consequences for his terrible actions. His gaze roved over her body, and he let out a low, nearly inaudible chuckle. Fear gripped Daphne as she realized that not only was he inside the room with her, but his body was blocking the exit.
“You should not be here, my lord,” she protested loudly, hoping that someone out in the hall might overhear these reproachful words. “It isn’t proper.”
“Ah, but the impropriety of this situation is what makes being here feel so… invigorating,” the cad murmured, smiling widely at her. “There is no one else around to see us.” He paused and swiftly closed the door. Daphne gulped nervously as he turned back to stare at her. “Nobody to hear and judge.”
“My lord, please. You should not be here. This is highly inappropriate,” she reminded him.
“Inappropriate?” he echoed. “Do you truly believe that propriety will protect you? The way you looked at me just now as you fled the other room…” He licked his lips as if relishing the thought. “Was that glance you sent in my direction anything, if not inappropriate?”“
Daphne was baffled. She had rushed from the room with Victoria at her side and had not thought to spare a glance for anyone—especially not this man.
