Page 37

D aphne stood at the top of the staircase, and watched as one of the house staff lugged her trunk down the stairs of the Estate.

The young man gripped the handle of the oversized baggage, his face straining with the effort.

He staggered slightly as he attempted to balance the weight of the trunk, his knees bending under the load.

Indeed, it was heavy. But the load in her heart felt heavier than anything that could fit into those trunks. Fingers gripping the wooden frame of the staircase, she exhaled a deep sigh.

The day had arrived when it was time to make her departure from the Estate.

"Daphne," Joyce called out from behind her, " Daphne? " her voice grew more impatient as she got closer.

"Yes?"

"I have been calling out for you, and you have stood ignoring me," Joyce lamented, her brow furrowing.

"Oh," Daphne tore her gaze away from the man taking her trunk down the stairs, "I suppose I did not hear you."

How could she over the shattering sound of her own broken heart?

Joyce passed her sister an annoyed look, "Well, then, now that I have your attention, we should start heading downstairs for the goodbyes. The carriage to take us home has arrived, and if we wish to make it back before nightfall, it is best to leave now."

"Right, of course," Daphne replied, folding her arms out in front of her as she obediently followed her sister down the steps.

It was good that Joyce was here to lead the way, for Daphne had woken up feeling more tired than she ever had in her whole life and could barely muster the energy to get dressed this morning.

Joyce guided her to the bottom of the stairs, where the Dowager stood with Richard to bid the departing guests farewell. There was no sign of Ambrose anywhere, and Daphne took it to mean that he was keeping true to his promise of keeping away for some time.

She quickly pushed thoughts of him away, not trusting herself not to cry again as they approached the Dowager.

"Thank you for being such a lovely guest, dear," the Dowager said warmly, giving Daphne's hand a gentle squeeze. "I look forward to seeing you again soon."

"Of course, Your Grace," Daphne replied, dipping into a small curtsy.

"I shall call on you soon, Lady Daphne," Richard spoke next, offering her a smile. "We should speak again."

She nodded, forcing the corners of her mouth upward. "That would be lovely." The words felt foreign on her tongue, but she couldn't muster the energy to correct herself.

They headed outside, and Daphne caught sight of her two friends, Isadora and Violet, waiting by the carriage. They lit up immediately upon seeing her, almost if they had been waiting for her all along.

"Lady Riverton, would you mind terribly if Daphne returned home with us?" Isadora asked with a cheerful tone. "Violet and I would love her company."

Joyce smiled broadly, clearly thrilled by the prospect. "I don't see why not. Daphne, would you like that?"

Daphne nodded gratefully. "Yes, I'd like that very much."

Perhaps her friends could make her feel better. They had always been there for her whenever she required it, and this time, she needed them more than ever.

Before Joyce could ask more, Isadora and Violet rushed forward, each taking Daphne by the arm as they gently steered her toward the carriage.

"You're coming with us," Violet teased as they walked toward the waiting vehicle. "There's much to discuss."

Daphne tried to manage a weak smile, but she knew what was coming. Her friends had been watching her closely the entire time and likely had a lot of questions for her – ones that she could no longer avoid.

Once the three of them were settled inside the carriage, the horses took off at a steady pace. Daphne sat back, ignoring the sinking feeling in her heart as the Estate grew smaller and smaller in her view from the window.

It did not take long before her friends intervened.

"Daphne," Isadora was the one to break the ice. "Are you adamant on keeping us in suspense for our entire lives?"

If Daphne did not feel so glum, she would have laughed at her friends theatrics. "I was not aware I was keeping you in any sort of suspense," she said instead, sighing to herself.

"Well, you refuse to tell us what happened during the house party," Violet spoke next, "And you have been acting like a wilted flower since the ball. If that is not keeping suspense, then prey tell what is it?"

"Both of you were there," Daphne replied. "You know fully well what happened. It was a ball, and it went as they usually do."

Isadora shook her head, "What happened with the Duke?"

Daphne knew that she could not avoid the conversation forever. Her friends were perceptive enough, and they had figured out that it was Ambrose – not Richard – who was the source behind her troubles.

"Will you tell us, or shall we resort to asking him?" Violet asked. Daphne knew it was an empty threat, only made for her to confess to them what they wished to know. Still, it worked, and she decided that it was best that she come clean to them.

If anything, it might help taking off the mental load that she had been carrying all this time – one that had grown only progressively heavier.

"I... thought of the Duke always as a stone in my path," she started, holding onto the window frame to steady herself, "and truthfully, in the beginning that was all that he was — an impediment in my path to get to Richard."

Isadora and Violet nodded, clearly invested. "Yes, you would tell us how the both of you would spar verbally whenever you met," Violet nodded, "He clearly knew how to get a reaction out of you from the start. But it seems like the nature of that reaction has... changed. Has it?"

"It seems to be the case," Daphne admitted with a sigh. "I... I do not know how it happened, but now, instead of annoyance, I feel a yearning for him instead. I feel his absence when he is not around, and I feel myself wanting to speak to him."

"But Daphne," Isadora spoke, alarmed, "You sound as though you are besotted by him. As though you love him."

Daphne almost smiled at the word. Yes, that was it. She had been too terrified to admit it to herself, to give a name to what she felt inside of her. But it was most fitting. This feeling she felt was no passing infatuation, it had to be love.

"Do you?" Violent asked, her voice softer than the former.

Daphne took her time to answer. She knew that she was not helping the suspense allegations against her by doing so, but she had to take her time. It was, after all, the first time she was admitting the words out loud to anyone.

"I do," she said softly, staring at her hands folded neatly in her lap, "I have tried running away from it in every way I knew possible, but I have fallen in love with him."

"Oh, Daphne," Isadora leaned forward to grab her hand, and then hold it gently. "But this was not part of the plan. You were supposed to... feel this way about Richard."

"But I do not," Daphne admitted. "Richard is lovely, and a thorough gentleman, but..."

"He does not ignite the same spark within you as the Duke?" Isadora completed her sentence, her voice full of understanding.

Daphne nodded, feeling the awful feeling her stomach rise once again. All her life, she had longed to feel love for someone like this – a deep love, one that goes against all rationalities, a maddening love. And now that she had, it had suffered the terrible fate of being unrequited.

"Oh but I do not understand still," Violet shook her head, still reeling from Daphne's admission, " How did this happen? I remember that you detested him, how does that strong change into love? Did he try and win your favor?"

Daphne shook her head. That was the thing – he made no effort to actively win her over, and yet, he ended up doing so anyway.

"Please, Violet," Isadora interjected, "You are being too daft. It was always in front of us, and yet we never noticed. The signs were always there – it is not every day that someone can elicit such a strong emotion out of you."

"Yes, but you say that as though the emotion was a positive one," Violet retorted.

"It is the intensity of it that matters," Isadora continued, "It only evolved into something else, something quite deep from the way Daphne is speaking about it. Why, I have never seen her act like this."

"But..." Violet's tone still held traces of confusion, "It's all quite lovely that she has fallen in love with the Duke. But we are forgetting another very important character in this entire story... what about Richard? "

Daphne shrugged. It seemed that he was the last of her worries. "What about him?"

"The both of you are in a courtship, and expected to marry. What will become of those plans now that you are in love with his brother?"

Daphne thought back to what Ambrose had said to her. That she should marry his brother, and that would be the solution to all of this mess that they found themselves in.

"I do not know," Daphne answered, earnestly. She knew that she had to make a decision soon.

"What does the Duke have to say about all this?" Isadora asked, "Does... he... well, does he return your feelings?"

A sigh ripped from Daphne's throat. "Even if he does, he has made the choice to not pursue his feelings. He has told me in no uncertain terms that nothing can happen between the two of us, and that doing so would be the most practical thing."

Practical. Daphne could not even begin to describe how much she had grown to detest that word ever since Ambrose had uttered it from his lips in their last conversation together.

"Practical?" Isadora repeated, taken aback. "How should one remain practical when faced with a love like this?"

"Well, it takes two to make a marriage," Violet commented, "What is Daphne meant to do if the Duke is not willing? She said so herself."

Hearing the words out loud, Daphne felt her heart break all over again. Violet sensed the shift in her demeanor, and quickly wrapped an arm around her.

"I apologize for I did not mean to be so harsh," she said, worried, "I was just stating what could be done..."

Daphne raised a hand to silence her, "No need for that. You are correct. We are simply not fated to be together, and I cannot fight fate."

A small silence settled over the carriage at her words, and Isadora squeezed her hand.

"I wish there was something that could be done," she spoke after a long moment. "Does anyone know about this?"

Daphne shook her head. "I have admitted this only to the both of you. Though.." she paused, "I suspect that Joyce has an inkling. But she has not mentioned it outright to me."

And I hope that she does not. The last thing that Daphne wanted to do was discuss what could have been.

"What about Richard?" Violet asked. "Does he know anything?"

"He's not made any mention to me," Daphne sighed. "Besides, he said that he will call on me later. I do not think he would be willing to do so if he had any inkling that I had feelings for his brother, instead of him."

"But he must know that you do not have feelings for him," Isadora argued. "Does that not bother him? I know that it bothers you."

"Perhaps the notion of feelings just does not hold much weight for him," Daphne sighed, "Not more than remaining practical, " the words rolled off like acid on her tongue.

Isadora and Violet exchanged sympathetic glances, "And what will you do when he finally proposes?" Isadora asked.

Daphne shrugged her shoulders, and looked out the window. "I suppose there is no use in telling beforehand. I shall know when the moment arrives."

She hoped that it never did.

"Daphne," Isadora started gently, "I have known you all my life, and I trust you to make the right decision for yourself. Whether it is love or a marriage to a respectable man, whatever you choose, I shall support you."

"As will I," Violet said.

The two friends huddled Daphne into a hug, holding her tight. At that moment, Daphne felt grateful for the wonderful friendships she was lucky enough to be surrounded with.

Her love life – and her heart – was in shambles. But for now, even if temporarily, the support of her friends was like a salve to her wounds. And for a moment, she could will herself not to think about the man that she had just left behind.