Page 29

" M y goodness, Daphne, you look like you didn't sleep a wink last night," Violet said the next morning as the women made their way to the dining room for breakfast.

Daphne rubbed the side of her face, suddenly self-conscious. "Do I?"

"Yes, I am accustomed to seeing you far more..." Violet paused to consider her words, "Well, refreshed, if you will. Did you turn in late last night?"

Daphne's heart skipped a beat at the question, but she forced a smile, keeping her tone as casual as she could manage.

"Oh, well, you know," Daphne found herself stumbling on her own words. They had reached the table now, and Daphne was beginning to take her seat. "I was just up reading. I became so absorbed in the book that I lost track of time. By the time I noticed the hour, it was far too late."

A look of recognition crossed Violet's face, replacing her previous concern. "That sounds just like you. You always did have a habit of getting lost in those books of yours."

Daphne nodded, relieved that her excuse had been accepted so easily. "Yes, yes. It was just that. Quite the page turner."

Violet nodded, turning her attention elsewhere. But before Daphne could conclude her little crisis to be fully averted, Joyce leaned in with a knowing smile from beside her.

"Funny," she whispered just low enough for only Daphne to hear. "I don't recall you retiring to bed with a book last night."

Daphne's heart seized in her chest, and she shot her sister a pleading look.

Not now, her eyes seemed to beg. The last thing she needed was Joyce of all people prying into what had happened last night.

What had transpired in that library was not something she could ever admit to.

It would remain her secret, one she would take to the grave if need be.

Joyce's smile widened, but thankfully, she didn't press further. Instead, she sat back and reached for her teacup, though the amusement in her eyes was far from gone.

Daphne exhaled slowly, her gaze falling to the empty chair across the table. It was where Ambrose sat normally. Her eyes flickered to the grand clock placed in the corner of the room.

It was thirty past nine, which was just on the accepted brink of showing up for breakfast without being considered late, or missing it altogether. However, most days he was here by fifteen past nine.

She knew because she had been keeping an eye out for him, even if inadvertently so.

Perhaps he will show up soon, she found herself thinking.

But then, reprimanded herself. It would be better if he did not show up at all.

For she did not know how to face him after what had happened.

Had he gone out to clear his head, or was he deliberately avoiding her too?

A part of her wished he were here, if only to gauge his mood. Did he regret everything that happened?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Richard pulling out the chair next to her. He gave her a warm smile as he sat down, his mood noticeably brighter than usual.

"Good morning, My Lady," he said, his tone light and cheerful. "I hope I'm not too late for breakfast."

"Not at all," Daphne smiled, although with some effort.

He settled in comfortably, reaching for a plate of freshly baked rolls and pastries. "You know," he began, "I've always been more of a toast and jam kind of man, but these—" he gestured to the elaborate spread of eggs, bacon, fruits, and freshly baked goods "—are far too tempting to resist."

"You have good taste," she muttered absentmindedly.

No offence to Lord Richard, but after the eventful night she had, butter rolls were scarcely enough to hold her interest.

"What about you, Lady Daphne? Do you have any particular breakfast preferences?"

Daphne blinked, slightly taken aback by his sudden attentiveness. Richard had always been polite and gentlemanly, but his focus on her this morning felt different—almost forced. Still, she forced herself to respond, pushing thoughts of Ambrose to the back of her mind.

"I suppose I've always been fond of a light breakfast," she said, reaching for a small bowl of fruit. "Perhaps some fruit or a simple pastry. Nothing too extravagant."

Richard chuckled, nodding as he spread jam over a slice of bread. "That sounds much more sensible than my choices, I'll admit."

Richard leaned back in his chair, casually picking up his cup of tea. "You wouldn't believe what happened last season in London," he began.

Daphne kept her gaze down, cutting into a piece of fruit as he continued. "I had the pleasure of attending a ball at Lord Furton's estate. The guest list was exclusive, of course. All the important figures were there."

Daphne nodded absentmindedly.

"Lord Furton himself sought me out. Wanted me to give a few words on a hunting technique I'd shared with him last year. He made quite the spectacle, really," Richard said, "The other gentlemen were quite impressed. By the end of the evening, I'd practically held court."

She did not know Richard to speak so much. Let alone in conversation with her. The more he continued, the more she kept picking up a hint of something underneath his words. Was he... boasting?

Apparently, Daphne was not the only one whose mind that thought crossed in. Across the table, Isadora kept stealing glances in their direction, beaming with thinly veiled excitement, eyes twinkling as if to say, See? He's trying to impress you.

Daphne already knew what Isadora must be thinking. This wasn't just idle chatter from Richard—he was laying the groundwork, showcasing himself. If that were true, then a proposal couldn't be far off.

The proposal.

The thought made her chest tighten, and before she realized it, her mind had drifted far from the conversation. She could still hear Richard speaking, but his voice had become a distant hum, swallowed by her own racing thoughts. What am I going to do? she thought. I don't want this...

She blinked, snapping back to attention just in time to see Joyce giving her a pointed look from across the table. Daphne quickly tried to catch up, offering a polite nod to whatever Richard had just said.

"I... yes, of course," she muttered, not entirely sure what she was agreeing to.

Richard, seemingly pleased with himself, smiled as he continued. "I knew you'd appreciate the finer details, Daphne."

Finer details? Daphne did not even know what he was talking about. Luckily, he had not noticed the lapse in her attention. She busied herself with her plate, stretching out the last of her piece of fruit to the most it could go to.

Just then, the door to the breakfast room creaked open, and in walked Uncle Sebastian. He was always late, but no one minded. With his charm, he could get away with nearly anything.

"Well, look at this lovely spread," Sebastian said, flashing a grin as he took his seat. "I trust I haven't missed the best part of breakfast."

"Not at all, Uncle," Richard replied with a laugh. "You're just in time."

Daphne found herself grateful at his entrance, if only that it made Richard divert his attention elsewhere for the moment.

Sebastian's gaze scanned the room as he poured himself a generous helping of tea. "Where's Ambrose?"

Daphne's heart gave an uncomfortable jolt at the mention of his name.

Richard shrugged. "I... I'm not sure. I haven't seen him this morning."

"Strange," Sebastian mused, "Ambrose is usually the first one up, even before the servants." He popped a piece of bacon into his mouth, his brow furrowed. "Is he unwell?"

Daphne felt a knot of anxiety twisting in her stomach, but she kept her eyes fixed on her plate, determined not to show any reaction.

Joyce, noticing her sister's sudden quietness, gave her another knowing look, but Daphne refused to meet her gaze.

"I'm sure he's fine," Richard said after a beat, "He's probably just... busy."

"Busy?" Sebastian chuckled. "At this hour?"

No one had an answer for that – but it was not a topic anyone particularly wished to dwell over either. The conversation swiftly moved on but Daphne felt herself pondering.

If he had not showed up to breakfast, then where had he disappeared to?

"I was thinking," Richard's voice broke through her thoughts, "the weather today is perfect for an afternoon by the lake. Perhaps we could take the rowboat out for a ride."

Daphne, who had been sipping her tea, nearly choked on her drink. A rowboat?

The notion immediately filled her with dread. In that kind of setting, there would be no escaping the inevitable—Richard, poised with a ring in hand, asking her to marry him.

The thought was overwhelming, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Maybe Isadora and Violet would like to join us?"

The words left her mouth in a rush, and the table fell silent for a moment. Richard looked momentarily surprised but recovered quickly.

"Of course," he said, ever the gentleman. "The more, the merrier."

Isadora and Violet, seated nearby, exchanged a look that was half-amusement, half-confusion. They had certainly not expected to be part of this particular excursion. "We would be delighted," Isadora said after she recovered from her surprise.

"Ah, yes. A boat ride," Violet nodded. "It sounds quite romantic."

Daphne managed a tight smile. Romantic was the last thing she felt. If anything, she was bracing herself for an afternoon of awkwardness.

Not long after, the three of them made their way down to the Estate lake. Daphne felt a strong emotion overcome her as her eyes landed on the body of water.

The last time she had been near one, she had nearly drowned. It had been the start to all of this. For a moment, she considered what it would have been like if it wasn't Richard who came to her aid that day.

What if instead... it had been Ambrose. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she found herself blushing inadvertently.

"Ready to go, My Lady?" Richard asked.

In front of them, two rowboats were waiting at the dock, gently bobbing with the movement of the lake. Daphne's stomach churned at the sight of them.

She pushed away the unpleasant feeling brewing inside of her, and nodded with a practiced smile.

"Yes, of course, My Lord."

Richard held out his hand in order to help her into one of the boats. Awkwardly, she took it but stiffened at his touch.

It felt radically different compared to when Ambrose had grabbed hold of her hand. While that had sent a jolt of electricity down her, this only added to her growing discomfort.

So it was no surprise that as soon as she safely made it into the rowboat, she slipped her hand away.

Isadora and Violet followed behind, climbing into the second boat with cheerful giggles.

Richard took the oars and began rowing. It was a pleasant day out, and the wind began to caress them gently as they began to move.

"Did you know," Richard said, "that my family has owned these lands for generations? In fact, my great-great-grandfather was the one who expanded the estate to include the lake. Quite the visionary."

Daphne nodded, pretending to show interest. But in actuality, she was staring at the shore, which grew more distant as they moved through the water.

"That is quite impressive, My Lord," she feigned a smile.

"The estate wouldn't be what it is today without the work of my father and his father before him. It's quite the legacy," Richard continued.

Daphne nodded absentmindedly. She tried to listen, to engage, but his words felt distant, like they were coming from someone miles away.

She caught Isadora's eye again from across the water.

Her friend was beaming, clearly entertained by the whole affair.

Daphne already knew what she must be thinking—that Richard was purposely narrating these stories in a bid to impress her.

He had seemed to do something similar at the breakfast table.

At least I have Violet and Isadora here with me, she thought with great relief. He would not think to propose in their company.

In her distraction, she missed most of what Richard was saying. His voice continued on in the background, but it was only when he laughed lightly at his own joke that Daphne realized she had completely tuned him out.

She blinked, "Oh, yes... quite fascinating," she mumbled.

Richard continued on, oblivious as usual. But her friends exchanged a look amongst them. Like they had caught onto Daphne's little bluff. She felt a rush of guilt. Was it that obvious?

Before she could dwell on it, Uncle Sebastian's familiar booming voice rang out from the shore. "Ah, there they are!" He was striding down toward the dock. He waved at the boats. "Now, now, going on a boat ride? All four of you? Are we planning a wedding or catching fish?"

Everyone laughed, including Richard, who set the oars aside for a moment to wave at his uncle. "A bit of both, perhaps!" he called back.

Their ride finally came to an end. Daphne's relief was palpable.

Finally, this ordeal was over.

Richard hopped out of the boat first, offering his hand to help her out. She accepted, but only begrudgingly.

As soon as her feet were back on solid ground, she wanted nothing more than to escape the situation, to flee to the safety of her chambers and be alone with her thoughts.

But there was no escaping the scrutiny of her friends.

As they walked back toward the estate, Richard had taken the lead, a few paces ahead, engaged in conversation with his uncle. This left Daphne trailing slightly behind with Isadora and Violet.

"Well, that was certainly a charming little outing," Violet began.

Daphne didn't respond immediately. Her mind was still spinning. She couldn't quite shake the disconnect she'd felt the entire time. Richard had been perfectly polite, perfectly attentive—but as usual, something was missing.

"Don't you think Richard is a bit... well... over the top today?" Isadora asked, trying to phrase her concern delicately. "I mean, he was certainly making an effort. But there was something... I don't know..."

"Off?" Violet finished for her.

Daphne sighed, "Oh, you know how Richard is. He likes to talk about himself. It's part of his charm, I suppose."

But even as she said it, she felt the weight of the truth pressing down on her. It wasn't charming. It wasn't endearing. It was exhausting.

"Are you sure everything's alright?" Isadora pressed gently, her brow furrowing with concern. "You don't seem quite yourself today."

Daphne forced herself to nod, "I'm just tired," she said quickly. "The rowing, you know. It's been a long day."

Violet looked skeptical, but she didn't push further. Instead, she linked her arm with Daphne's and offered a playful smile. "Well, tired or not, you've certainly made an impression. I wouldn't be surprised if Richard is preparing a grand gesture as we speak."

Daphne's heart sank at the thought. She didn't want a proposal, not from Richard. But how could she say that out loud?