“My dear, you’ll find out soon enough that you don’t need your husband’s respect. You need theton’s.”
Daphne’s cheeks flamed. She could feel the blood pounding in her temples as disbelief and anger coursed through her.
How could her mother speak so lightly of marriage, as if it were merely a transaction? As if a man’s cruelty or disregard were of no consequence, so long as Society murmured its approval?
Her teeth clenched, and her heart thumped with a furious indignation she struggled to keep contained. Every bone in her body rebelled against the thought of bending to such callous pragmatism.
“Are you speaking based on experience, Mother?” Daphne asked.
The Dowager’s eyes narrowed to sharp slits, and her face flushed crimson. “Why, when have you become so insolent! You are just like your father!” she hissed, her hands trembling slightly with barely restrained ferocity.
Daphne had never felt any closeness to her late father. When he had been alive, the man had ruled their household with a tyrant’s hand, his presence created a constant source of fear. She bristled at the comparison, feeling only resentment and unease at being likened to someone so vicious.
“Do not,” Daniel growled, “evercompare my sisters to your late husband,” his eyes held infernos of fury, yet his body remained perfectly still as he spoke. “Thankfully, Daphne did not inherit the maliciousness that defined her parents.”
“Certainly not,” Marianne added, her eyes fixed on the Dowager.
Daphne’s mother stormed from the room in a huff. A moment later, the butler returned with a note for Daphne. She went pale when she saw Lord Briarwood’s writing on the envelope.
Reluctantly, she broke the seal.
“I shall visit you daily, Lady Daphne, until you accept my hand.”
Daphne read it aloud for her siblings and brothers-in-law. Outraged and astounded muttering filled the drawing room, but her heart raced with dread. Daily visits would ruin her reputation, spark gossip, and leave her family exposed.
Refusal could make matters worse.
Retaliation and scandal waited for them.
She folded the note carefully, unsure what to do with the threatening vow.
This little scrap of parchment served as a tangible reminder that Briarwood would not relent. Not until he had caged her into marriage.
A chilling certainty washed over her.
Nothing, not even her family’s protection, could shield her from him.
Chapter Two
“That deplorable man!” Victoria exploded, her face flushed, the agitation practically radiating off her. “I will see to it that he won’t torment you any longer. I am heading for his house and I will?—”
Daphne watched, heart tightening, as her aggressive twin began to march toward the door, presumably straight to Briarwood’s house.
Elizabeth caught her sister’s arm just in time, holding it firmly even as her own lips turned pale.
“Victoria! You will only make things worse for Daphne. That’s what he is looking for. Scandal. He will use it against you, can’t you tell? That man knows what he is doing, unfortunately. He will twist your words and actions to solidify his imagined claim over our sister.”
Daphne could feel the tension vibrating in the room, the sharp edge of fear and anger clashing around her. She glanced at Victoria, whose wild eyes darted from one person to another like a trapped animal refusing to yield, her chest heaving.
“What do you think we should do then?” Victoria demanded, pulling her arm free. “Should we merely sit here like little lambs for the slaughter? That’s not me. You know that.”
“We know, Vicky. That’s why I’m trying to stop you. Even though it might make you feel extraordinarily uncomfortable, we must be mere lambs for now.”
Victoria squeaked in protest, but Elizabeth silenced her with the following statement.
“It’s better than being bait.”
Victoria’s teeth clamped together firmly. She pressed her lips together resolutely and Daphne could see the strain as she fought to accept Elizabeth’s idea and quiet her own emotions.
