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" S o," Violet began excitedly, "tell us everything! How was the hunt? Did you impress Richard with your brilliant riding skills?"

Daphne hesitated, unsure of how much she should let on. But her friends were eagerly waiting for her to speak. She could hardly refuse them. "The hunt?" she said, forcing a smile. "It was... fine."

"Fine?" Isadora repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You're going to have to do better than that, Daphne. Did you catch anything? Or, rather—did Richard catch anything? He must've been trying extra hard to impress you." She nudged Violet with a grin.

"Oh, surely he brought down the prey for you, Daphne," Violet teased, "I can just picture him now, all heroic, galloping after some poor deer with only you in his thoughts."

Daphne could barely hear them over the rapid thumping of her heart. Her mind was elsewhere—back in the woods, standing face to face with Ambrose, feeling the warmth of his hand as he scolded her, his voice low and full of something she couldn't quite place.

Isadora was the first to notice. She stopped laughing, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked at Daphne. "Is everything alright with you?"

Daphne blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. "What? Yes, of course. I'm fine."

Isadora didn't look convinced. "You're acting a bit strange. Are you sure everything's alright?"

"Yes," Daphne said, this time with more force, pulling a bright smile onto her face. "Yes, everything is fine. The hunt was just... uneventful, that's all."

Her two friends exchanged glances. Violet looked a little disappointed. "Uneventful? How boring."

Isadora, however, wasn't so easily satisfied. She leaned in closer, her eyes still studying Daphne's expression carefully. "Are you sure? Nothing exciting happened at all?"

Daphne swallowed, feeling her throat tighten as the memory of Ambrose flashed through her mind again. She quickly pushed the thought aside. "No," she said, shaking her head. "Nothing happened."

Isadora still didn't seem fully convinced, but she let the matter drop. "Well, then... uneventful hunts aside, what about the proposal?"

Daphne stiffened. "The proposal?"

"Yes, the proposal," Violet said with a wide grin. "Do you think it will happen soon? I mean, you and Richard have been spending so much time together lately—it's bound to happen any day now, right?"

Daphne opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Her stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

Just a few days ago, the idea of Richard proposing had seemed like a natural step.

He was kind, handsome, and proper. They were well-suited for one another—at least, that's what she had always told herself. But now, after today...

The thought of a proposal filled her with a sense of dread she hadn't expected.

"I... I don't know," she finally managed, "Maybe."

Violet raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Maybe? I thought you'd be counting down the days!"

Daphne forced a laugh. "Well, who can ever know with these things, right? Besides, it's not really something we've discussed."

Isadora looked at her closely. "Do you want it to happen?" she asked.

Daphne hesitated again, "I... suppose so," she said, though her voice lacked conviction. "It would make sense, wouldn't it?"

Her friends exchanged another glance, this one more serious than before.

But before they could press her further, Daphne stood up abruptly, smoothing the fabric of her gown.

"But really, there's nothing to worry about," she added, flashing them another bright smile.

"I'm sure it'll happen when the time is right. "

Isadora watched her carefully for a moment longer, but then sighed, letting it go. "Well, we'll see, won't we?"

Violet grinned, clearly excited by the prospect. "Oh, when it does happen, you must tell us immediately. We're dying to know all the details!"

Daphne nodded, but her heart wasn't in it. She couldn't help but wonder why the thought of marrying Richard—something that had always seemed so natural—now felt so unsettling. And why, despite everything, it wasn't Richard's face she kept seeing in her mind, but Ambrose's?

Something had shifted within her, and the flutter in her chest told her that nothing would be the same after today.

Ambrose sat at his desk, running a hand through his dark hair, his brows furrowed in concentration as he sifted through the endless paperwork.

The hunt from earlier had been enough of a distraction, but now, back in the quiet of his study, he could finally focus—until a familiar knock echoed at the door.

A moment later, his mother walked in.

"Ambrose, darling," Edith greeted as she stepped inside, her tone warm. She closed the door behind her with a soft click, and Ambrose knew—just knew—she was here for one reason. To bring up marriage, again.

He sighed heavily, bracing himself for another conversation about "suitable matches" and "heirs to the dukedom." This was the last thing he needed after the day he'd had.

"Mother," he acknowledged politely. "To what do I owe the pleasure this time?"

Edith was silent for a moment. She walked over to one of the chairs in front of his desk and seated herself gracefully.

"I heard the hunt was... eventful," she said finally, folding her hands in her lap.

Ambrose's head snapped up in surprise. That wasn't what he had expected. He frowned slightly. "From whom?"

"Your Uncle Sebastian."

Of course. Trust Sebastian to give his sister all the news. Ambrose bit back another groan.

"Well then, I suppose I don't have to tell you anything. He must have already done that for me," Ambrose said, attempting to sound nonchalant, but he could feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck at the thought of the conversation that might follow.

Edith's smile was small but amused. "He might have mentioned a few things."

Ambrose clenched his jaw slightly, unsure of what exactly his uncle had told her. His thoughts immediately jumped to Daphne—how he had found her in the woods, how close they had been, how the air had shifted between them.

His mother's voice cut through his reverie. "He said you saved Lady Daphne."

Ambrose stiffened, and before he could help it, he felt heat rise to his cheeks.

Ambrose was not one for blushing. Of course, though, it had to be Daphne whose memory made him do so.

He quickly looked down at the papers scattered across his desk, desperately trying to hide the fact that his thoughts had been so... inappropriate. This was ridiculous. He shouldn't be feeling this way. Especially not about her.

"I—well," he stammered, his usual composure momentarily slipping, "It wasn't anything, really. She just... fell behind. I found her, that's all."

"Mmm," Edith replied, a knowing look on her face, "Just that?"

Ambrose cleared his throat and straightened up in his chair, forcing his voice to steady. "Yes, Mother. Is that all you came to ask?"

He half expected her to bring up marriage then. As she had always done the last few times that they had spoken in private. But to his surprise, Edith simply shook her head and stood up, smoothing out the skirts of her gown. "That's all," she said, her tone light.

Ambrose blinked, startled by her response. "That's... all?"

She gave him a small smile. "Yes, darling. You seem to have enough on your plate without me pestering you further."

Ambrose watched as she left the room, the soft click of the door echoing in the quiet that followed. For a long moment, he just sat there, staring at the now-closed door, feeling... strange.

It wasn't like his mother to leave without a lecture or a reminder of his "duty" to marry and provide an heir. The fact that she had let the subject drop so easily left him feeling uneasy.

But worse than that was the way his thoughts immediately drifted back to Daphne.

No, this was no way to feel. It couldn't be.

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the flutter that had lodged itself in his chest since that moment in the woods.

He had duties, responsibilities, and getting distracted—especially by someone as spirited and challenging as Daphne—was not part of his plan.

But despite his best efforts, the memory of her face, flushed and determined, wouldn't leave him.

And that, more than anything, troubled him the most.

The sound of the quartet filled the room, soft and melodic. The Dowager had arranged the function as entertainment for her guests. In the grand hall of the Estate, guests lined the seats and there was an on-going murmur of excitement in the air as everyone waited for the main performance to start.

Daphne sat next to Richard, her hands folded primly in her lap, trying to appear every bit the perfect lady she was supposed to be.

In her own way, she had tried her hardest to forget the events from the hunt. It was pivotal for her not to get any more distracted, as she had done so in the past. Even though the thought of a proposal appeared daunting, she reminded herself that it was her original plan.

Whatever she was feeling now was temporary – whatever had almost happened with the Duke had been nothing more than a mistake and it should never be repeated again.

No, it should not even be thought of. She must stick to her original plan, which was to secure a proposal before the end of the house party.

For the occasion, she had made an effort to dress up.

The gown hugged her figure just right, and her hair, swept into an elegant twist, was adorned with a few carefully placed pearls.

She had hoped it would be enough to capture Richard's attention, that he might finally notice her in a way that was more than just polite.

But Richard had hardly said a word to her apart from the polite greeting.

No matter, she comforted herself. Perhaps he has not yet noticed. If anything, it seemed to be a running theme with him. Just like he had not noticed her trailing behind when they had gone together to hunt.