“Yes, Ma’am.” The footman bowed, turned, and took his leave.
Daphne sank into a padded armchair and allowed herself a good cry. She sat there sobbing quietly, her shoulders trembling, as she granted herself permission to let all of her sadness and frustration run its course.
“Whatever is the matter?” Phoebe’s sing-song voice broke through Daphne’s melancholy.
Daphne looked up, dashing moisture from her cheeks. She could not say how long she’d been sobbing, but the sun now sagged low in the sky. She drew in a shaky breath, then answered. “I found myself overwhelmed is all.”
Phoebe crouched down beside her, wrapping an arm around Daphne’s shoulders. “I am a wonderful listener if you would like someone to share your burdens with.”
Daphne nibbled at her lower lip, contemplating. Maybe she should confide in Phoebe. Her sister-in-law had always been a source of comfort as well as a reliable confidante. At the same time, Daphne wasn’t certain she could put voice to her sorrow.
Writing that letter had gutted her. What would happen if she attempted to explain what had happened out loud?
“Perhaps some tea?” Phoebe asked, brushing her fingertips up and down Daphne’s arm where her hand rested.
Daphne swallowed, her throat so dry it pained her. “Yes, thank you,” She forced the words out.
Phoebe smiled at her, then stood. “I will see to it at once.”
In a trice, Phoebe had poured them each a cup of tea and positioned herself in a chair near Daphne. She said nothing, only sipped her tea and sat there offering strength and company.
Daphne did not talk either. She let the heat of the tea warm her and soothe her raw throat as her mind worked through a multitude of scenarios.
In the end, she drew the same conclusion she had last night.
She could no longer dally with Alex, and she must find a husband—henceforth.
Her hand went to her belly. Alex had spilled his seed deep within her. She could be carrying his child. A fact she would have to share with any potential husband so as not to deceive him, but also something that would need to be kept secret in order to shield everyone.
Daphne looked up at Phoebe who still sat primly sipping her tea, a look of concern etched into her hazel eyes. She forced a weak smile, then said, “I think I am ready to remarry.”
“Oh, Daphne! I know how hard that decision must be for you. It’s no wonder you were downtrodden.” Phoebe set her teacup down and slid closer to Daphne. “You know that is what Rowland wished for you, and none of us would ever look down on you for doing so.”
“Yes, of course—”
“But it is still hard. I know.” Phoebe reached for Daphne’s hand and gave a squeeze. “Do you have someone in mind?”
Daphne shook her head. “I’ve been thinking about remarrying for a while, but only just decided to do so.”
Phoebe’s grin widened, excitement lighting her gaze. “How fun this will be. We’ll help each other find the perfect spouses.”
Daphne could not bring herself to dampen Phoebe’s spirits, nor did she wish to discuss Alex or her broken heart. Instead, she sipped her tea and listened as Phoebe prattled on about how wonderful the coming months would be.
She soon found herself thinking about Alex again. Had he read her letter?
Chapter Twelve
Alex read Daphne’s letter for the second time, not quite believing the words scrolled across the page. His pride was bruised and anger heated his blood. He tossed the parchment into the fire. The devil with her if she did not want his help. He paced across the great hall, his anger growing more with each fall of his boots. How dare she?
If nothing else, the dratted woman should be concerned for Henry. He’d not allow her to put the lad’s future in peril, not when he’d gone out of his way to secure it.
Alex grabbed his coat and hastily donned it before marching outside. He stormed across the bailey and through the castle gate, then fairly stomped all the way to the Chesterfields’ house.
He would see to Henry and Daphne, as well. It mattered not whether she wished for his aid. She’d shared with him enough for him to know her situation. She had no other choice beyond appealing to Lord and Lady Chesterfield, which she’d made perfectly clear wasn’t an option she was willing to take.
And what of his feelings? Did they hold no weight with her? He cared for her and Henry as much as a man without a heart could. He certainly did not want to see them struggle. More than that, he wanted, needed more time with Daphne.
She could not push him away. Could not cancel their wager at will. He’d not allow her to.
With his heart pounding and blood hot, Alex reached the Chesterfields’ front door. The exertion of his walk had done nothing to cool his emotions. He knocked at the door, doing his best to appear relaxed as the butler swung it open.
“Lady Gilford, if you please.”
The butler bowed. “Enter, my lord.”
He showed Alex to a parlor and offered him refreshment, which he refused, then left to fetch Daphne. Alex hoped she would show herself—and more importantly, come alone.
The minutes ticked by with no sign of her, only feeding his ill-tempered mood. Anger and frustration warred within him as he tapped his fingers on the wooden edge of the window in Lady Chesterfield’s parlor.
He had half a mind to wring Daphne’s neck. In fact, if she failed to show herself in the next few minutes, he may well seek her out and do that very thing.
At last, Daphne appeared in the doorway, a scowl marring her features. “I had hoped you would honor my wishes,” She said, her tone tart.
“And what of my wishes?” Alex peered at her, his chest tight. “What of honoring our wager?”
Her countenance did not alter as she came deeper into the room. Her eyes remained firm, her shoulders squared. “Do not speak to me of honor. You got what you wanted from our wager. Let that be enough.”
The coolness of her tone coupled with her stiff posture combined to lessen Alex’s anger. She was putting up a strong front, but he could see through the rough exterior she’d concocted. There was a slight shake to her fisted hands that gave her away. He drew closer. “I want more.”
She drew in a breath as she peered at him. “I haven’t any more to give.”
Her voice broke mid-sentence sending a pang through his heart. He could not refrain from coming closer. “I have grown fond of you and Henry. I have no wish to see our time together end so soon, and every desire to secure both of your futures.”
“We are not your responsibility.” Her voice cracked and she averted her gaze.
Alex stroked the back of one finger across her cheek. “What if I want you to be?”
“Are you proposing marriage?” She glanced back up at him, steel in her blue gaze.
“No.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I would only bring you misery if I did.”
“I didn’t think you were, and therefore, we have nothing left to discuss.” She took a step back. “I do hope you find happiness.”
“Daphne, wait.”
She met his gaze, a sheen of unshed tears clouding her eyes. “I cannot.”
He positioned himself between her and the door. “At least allow me to fund Henry’s education.”
Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “It would be unfair of me to do so.”
He wanted to close the distance between them. Pull her into his arms and kiss away the pain in her gaze. Clearly, he had put it there, but how? His mind replayed the events that brought them to this. “Have you ever been in love?” Her question echoed through his mind, then slammed into his understanding, knocking the wind from his lungs.
She’d fallen in love with him.
He closed his eyes for a heartbeat in a vain attempt to recompose himself, then asked, “What will you do now? How will you ensure Henry’s future?”
“I am going to marry. My husband, whoever he turns out to be, will care for Henry.” She darted around him as the firs
t tears crested her eyes.
He should let her go. He’d done more than enough to hurt her, but he was selfish and he wanted more of her.
Alex moved to block her path once more. “You would rather sell yourself in marriage than spend your time with me?”
Daphne glared at him.
He went on. “I once offered to make you my mistress. If you are selling yourself, why not do so to a man you desire?”
Daphne’s cheeks turned crimson and she struck out at him, her hand landing hard across his cheek. “How dare you.” Anger blazed in her blue eyes erasing any sign of the hurt that had been there a moment before. “I will never be any man’s mistress,” she spit the words at him, then sidestepped him, moving toward the door.
“What if you are carrying my child?”
Her back stiffened and she pivoted back to face him. “You needn’t concern yourself with my condition or lack thereof.”
His own anger rekindled, a small flame burning in his soul. “Of course my child would be my concern, and you’d have no right to keep him or her from me.”
“I don’t see why it should be your concern. Surely a man of your reputation has a bastard or four already.” Her tone dripped with venom, her eyes cold.
He flinched, her words stinging him deep inside. He had no children that he was aware of.
He’d always taken care not to spill his seed inside of his lovers. Daphne was the only woman he’d ever lost control with and, damn it, if she did carry his child, she’d not be passing it off to another man.
He grabbed her elbow and leaned close. “The devil if I’m going to walk away and allow you to ruin your life. Henry’s and possibly our child’s as well.”
“Leave. Me. Alone.” She punctuated each word, her gaze burning into his.
He stared back at her, anger singeing him from the inside out, his chest aching and tight. At a loss for words, he released her then watched her storm from the room.
This would not be the end for them.
Chapter Thirteen
Everyone save for Daphne was in high spirits, talking and laughing as they enjoyed the Chesterfields’ formal dinner. She glanced around the room. Glittering candelabras had been placed along the center of the grand cherrywood dining table, casting the dining room in candle light. The best china and flatware were laid out, and fresh flower arrangements scented the room.
The atmosphere was perfect, but the same could not be said for the seating arrangement. Much to Daphne’s dismay, she’d been placed directly across from Alex, ensuring that she would find no enjoyment in the evening.
In fact, she would be lucky to survive it at all.
Her stomach churned as she tried to at least pretend she was enjoying the fare, and this was only the first course. How was she to survive the entire meal? Already, she’d caught Alex peering at her, and herself doing the same to him. If they were not more careful, everyone would be speculating about them by dinner’s end.
Daphne dipped her spoon into her turtle soup and sighed. She could not stop him from looking at her, but she’d do her best to ignore him. She brought the spoon to her mouth and pretended to take a bite. In truth, even if she wasn’t heartsick, she would not eat the soup. She detested turtle soup.
“Lady Gilford?” The gentleman seated beside her broke into her thoughts.
“Yes?” She turned her head slightly to look at him.
“I asked if you will be traveling to London soon?” the gentleman repeated.
“I did not mean to ignore you, Lord Veltroy.” Daphne lowered her spoon. “I must confess that I was lost in thought and failed to hear you.”
He gave a warm smile, fine lines crinkling around his brown eyes. “That is quite all right, my dear.”
Lord Veltroy was a kind old man and, no doubt, only trying to make polite conversation. Daphne gave him a slight smile. “Thank you, and to answer your question, I do plan to take up residence in the city.”
Having no wish to continue the conversation, Daphne returned to pretending that she was, indeed, enjoying her soup. Before long, she heard Lord Veltroy chatting with the woman on his other side.
She peeked across the table to where Alex sat frowning at his own bowl of soup. As though he’d felt her attention on him, he looked up. Their gazes collided and the mixture of pain and smoldering anger in his took her by surprise.
Could it be that he was suffering as well? No, she chided herself, for if he was he’d do more than offer to keep her as his mistress. Her stomach roiled against the small amount of food she’d managed to eat.
“Daphne, dear.”
She glanced up the expanse of the table to where Lady Chesterfield sat.
“Are you unwell? You look a bit pale,” she said, concern in her tone.
Daphne gave a slight nod. “May I be excused?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll have a tonic sent up.”
How she wished a tonic could cure her, but only time would mend what ailed her.
Daphne waited for a servant to pull out her chair then left the room with measured strides. Once in the safety of her room, she fell onto her bed and let the tears come.
A knock came at the door but Daphne ignored it. Another followed before the door was pushed open and Rebecca stepped into the room.
“Daphne, are you all right?” Rebecca came to sit on the bed next to her.
Unable to stop herself, Daphne sobbed harder and shook her head.
“Oh, dear,” Rebecca said, her voice soothing, “what’s happened?”
Daphne pushed herself into a sitting position. “I fell in love with Alex.” She sniffled, a fresh wave of tears cresting her eyes.
Rebecca handed her a handkerchief then wrapped an arm around her. “That may not be such a terrible thing.”
“Oh, it is. I assure you” Daphne blotted her eyes with the embroidered cotton square. “He asked me to be his mistress. The cad has no desire to marry. He only wishes to play with me like a child’s toy then forget about me once he grows bored.”
“I’m certain you are wrong.” Rebecca patted Daphne’s hand. “He has been nearly intolerable of late. Moody and depressed. He even snapped at Camden yesterday. His heart is hurting. I recognize the pain in his eyes.”
Daphne shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened a fraction. “But it’s true. He just hasn’t realized it yet.”
“I cannot allow myself to hope for my heart cannot withstand anymore hurt.” Daphne sniffled as she blotted away a fresh tear. “I just can’t.”
Rebecca stared at her, her gaze warm and caring. “Do you want me to speak with him?”
Daphne shook her head. “Please don’t. If we were fated for one another, he’d know it.”
“Sometimes, the brain is the last to know when the heart has found its match.” Rebecca gave a soft smile. “Do not lose hope, Daphne.”
Daphne attempted a smile, then buried her head in Rebecca’s shoulder and sobbed anew.
Rebecca held her without a care for the water stains her gown was enduring. She stroked Daphne’s hair and whispered encouragement. “Everything will work out in the end. Have faith. You’ll see.”
A part of Daphne desperately wanted to believe Rebecca’s words—especially the ones about Alex—but she did not dare. There was no future for them. She’d known it from the very start and had no one save for herself to blame for her current state.
Chapter Fourteen
After his confrontation with Daphne, Alex buried himself in hard work. He spent the first day barking at the builders until Camden interfered. After that, he found jobs of his own to take his aggression out on. Three days later, his mood was no better, and last evenings dinner party only added to his unease, anger, aggravation—hell, he didn’t know what he was feeling anymore.
At present, he occupied himself splitting wood behind the stable. He swung the ax with all his strength, splitting log after log, and still thoughts of her haunted him. No sooner did he split
one log than he was swinging the ax at a fresh one. Sweat coated his brow and dirt streaked his hands and arms.
Still, he thought about Daphne.
“Take it easy, man,” Camden said, coming to stand beside him.
Alex swung again. “Bugger off.”
“That is hardly the way one speaks to their cousin.” Camden took another step. “Something is clearly bothering you.”
“At present, it’s you.” Alex kicked the split chunks of wood out of his way and set up a new log. “I have work to do and no wish to be distracted.”
Camden stopped walking to stare at Alex. “You are unbearable of late. What has gotten into you?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” Alex bit out as he swung the ax again, “and nothing I wish to discuss.”
“Camden, my love.” Rebecca came strolling around the corner and directly into Camden’s arms. “I was told I would find the pair of you back here.”
Camden embraced her, and stared down at her, his gaze soft and warm in much the same way she looked at him. “Did you have a nice visit?”
“Oh, yes, but I’m sorry to report that Daphne is no better.” Rebecca glanced at Alex then turned back to Camden. “She’s out of bed but very quiet. Phoebe said she has hardly eaten a bite in days.”
Alex’s chest tightened at both the mention of Daphne and the news that she remained ill.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Camden lowered his head, resting his chin on the top of Rebecca’s head. “Perhaps we can do something to cheer her up?”
“A splendid idea, but what?” Rebecca nibbled her lower lip, a look of concentration coming over her. “But I do not wish to distract you with my family problems.”
“Silly woman, don’t you know that I would do anything for you?”
She smiled up at him, her gaze radiating warmth. The love Camden and Rebecca shared was perfectly clear to anyone who witnessed them together. Hell, they looked at each other as though they were priceless treasures.
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