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A mbrose did not make it to breakfast the next morning. But he had a feeling that the Dowager would not mind, for he had decided to embark on a far more significant journey.

He hadn't slept. The idea that Daphne could be leaving, possibly for good, filled him with an unbearable urgency. He had to see her. He had to speak to her, tell her everything, before it was too late. So as the first light of dawn filtered through his window, he made his decision.

He rode hard, faster than he had in years, his heart pounding in rhythm with the hooves of his horse as they thundered across the countryside. When he arrived at Daphne's estate, he barely took the time to dismount.

"Is Lady Daphne here?" he asked the servant who stood at the gate.

"Your Grace," the man straightened up immediately, "The family is not at home. They left at noon."

His heart sank. Could it be that he had already been too late?

"Where are they?" he demanded.

The servant hesitated for a moment, glancing around nervously before answering. "They have gone to the park, Your Grace. Lady Daphne, her sisters, and their husbands often take walks there in the afternoons."

Ambrose didn't wait for further details.

He turned sharply, mounting his horse, and spurred it forward before the servant could say another word – a strange mixture of both relief and nervousness consuming him.

Relief that at least she had not left yet, and nervousness that he was going to have to confront his own feelings.

Ambrose's heart was pounding as he arrived at the park, his horse panting from the speed he had pushed it to.

Daphne, where are you?

He knew that this might be his last opportunity. He had to find her. His gaze darted around the park. It was not as busy as usual, which was perfect as it made looking for her not so difficult. He walked around frantically in search of her, until finally...

There she was, standing with her sisters and their husbands. The sisters seemed to be busy in conversations with their husbands, but Daphne kept to herself. It was the first time he was seeing her since the house party, and the sight alone made his heart leap out in his throat.

"Lady Daphne," he called out to her, his legs carrying him over to where they stood faster than they ever had.

Hearing him approach, their conversation died down immediately. Several pairs of eyes were on him now, but he did not care for any of them. All he noticed was the way Daphne's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him.

For a moment, Ambrose's gaze met hers. There was confusion in her eyes, maybe even shock. But he also saw the hint of something else—something more fragile, like the vulnerability of someone who had been hurt. It pained him to see it, and it only fueled his resolve.

"Lady Daphne," Ambrose started again, "I need to speak with you."

Daphne blinked, as if she could believe what was happening. "Y...Your Grace, I.." she glanced around at her sisters, who seemed equally confused by his sudden presence.

"We must speak," he stressed. His voice conveyed an urgency that he had never before communicated to her, or anyone else.

Daphne's mouth opened, but she hesitated. Her sisters, sensing her unease, immediately stepped in, forming a shield around her.

"I don't think now is the time, Your Grace," Felicity said, her tone polite but firm. "We're having a family outing."

"Yes, perhaps another time," Joyce added, apologetically.

"I do not think you understand. It is important that I speak to Lady Daphne right now," Ambrose came across more demanding than he intended to. Of course, it was only a way to mask the desperation with which he needed to speak to her but it had the opposite effect.

Daphne pursed her lips, and then shook her head. "Your Grace, I believe that you said enough the last time we spoke."

Her words felt like a punch to his gut. He had already hurt her too much, and now she did not even want to see what he had to say.

But before Ambrose could respond, her sisters were already moving to take her away.

Annie looped her arm through Daphne's and gently began guiding her in the opposite direction, away from him.

"No," he said, rushing to follow them but he had barely made it two steps when Felicity's husband stepped in front of him.

"Your Grace," he firmly held up his hand, "I believe that the Lady said she does not wish to speak with you at this moment. It would be best if you adhere to her wishes."

Ambrose was not one to resort to fighting. But for Daphne, he would knocked anyone off his path if it meant that he could get to her. But out of respect to her sisters, he refrained himself from doing so.

Daphne was getting further and further away, her silhouette growing smaller as she was shielded by her sisters.

The words were lodged in his throat, desperate to escape, and before he could stop himself, Ambrose called out, "Daphne, wait!"

"Let her go, Your Grace," another one of the husband begun to lure back him. "It is causing quite the scene."

Ambrose shook himself free from his grasp, being the stronger one of the two. Daphne had not bothered to turn back. If he lost his chance now, heaven knew when he would get to see her again.

"Daphne, if you leave now then you shall never get to know how I feel about you. Because the truth is... I have fallen in love with you," he was practically shouting the words now, not caring that the entire park could hear him.

That made her stop dead in her tracks, and finally turn back to look at him. Even from a distance, he could see that the expression on her face was one of pure shock.

"I have fallen in love with you," he repeated, the words feeling oddly freeing. He had never expected himself to admit his feelings so publicly. "I cannot stand to see you leave."

Am I dreaming?

Daphne could hardly believe what was unfolding in front of her. Even her sisters were stunned at the Duke's confession.

"Lady Daphne," he repeated, stepping closer. This time no one intervened to hold him back. "You cannot leave. I beseech you. For I love you."

Even passersby were stopping to look at the scene now – his loud proclamation had seemingly attracted everyone's attention. Slowly, she took a step forward so that they could hear each other without having to shout.

"Your Grace," she started, feeling a strange warmth spread all across her. It felt better than any embrace she had received, or any fire on the coldest winter night. "Do you know it is quite rude to cause a scene like this?"

Despite how warm she felt, she could not resist teasing him. He looked flabbergasted at first, but returned her smile once he noticed the playful expression on her face.

"I know," he said, moving closer, "But I have spent too long hiding my true feelings from you. Now I do not care if the world knows about it."

He said the words with such confidence that it made her heart flutter, and her knees grow weak.

"What brought on this change?" she asked, the excitement seeping into her tone now that the shock had worn off slightly. "The last time we spoke... you said..."

"That was a mistake," he shook his head, "I was a fool then. I cannot stand to see you go, Daphne. But I have learned my lesson – please, marry me. I shall make you the happiest you have ever been–"

She cut him off abruptly by grabbing his hand, and pulling him to a corner. "Your Grace, it would be better if we continue this conversation somewhere a little more private."

She shot her sisters a pleading look, as if to say please, give me my space and they understood immediately and busied themselves amongst chatter.

"As long as you wish to continue it, I do not care where we have it," he said, determined.

Daphne ran a hand through her hair. They walked over to one of the trees, still close by to her sisters but out of earshot. She began pacing in front of him.

"Your Grace, I have to admit that I am having some trouble processing all of this," she admitted, "I have never seen you behave like this, nor did I ever expect you to in my wildest dreams. Have you lost your mind?"

He gave her a sheepish smile in return. "I have. But it has led me to the truth."

She shook her head, "Did you really mean what you just said back there? Oh," her cheeks warmed, "I cannot believe that you did that in front of my sisters. They will have ample fodder to tease me now for life."

"Daphne," he stepped closer to her, "I meant every word. You know me well enough now that I do not make statements like that in passing."

"But..." Daphne felt doubt creep up on her. "You were firm on your decision to never marry. Your Grace, I suspect someone has slipped something in your food, or perhaps you are inebriated?—"

He reached out for her hand, and she shut up immediately at the contact. Their gazes met.

"No one has compelled me to do any of this," he assured her. "I only regret that it took me so long to confront my fears."

"Your fears?" her tone softened. Now that she thought about it, she had never seen Ambrose even hint at the notion that he could have fears, let alone confess to them. It was so unlike his usual impenetrable outer self.

"I thought that if I allowed myself to love you, and start a life with you, it would suffer the same fate that my parents' marriage did," he sighed, his voice strained.

"That one day, I would lose you. I could not stand to put myself in a position that made me as vulnerable as that. I.. I thought it was for the best."

Daphne was touched by his confession. "What made you change your mind?" her voice was barely above that of a whisper.

"The realization that the pain of not having you in my life is worse than some far off possibility of losing you," he admitted. "When I heard that you would be moving away to Scotland, I–"

"Scotland?" she repeated, surprised. "Your Grace, what gave you the impression that I am moving away to Scotland?"

"Are you not?" he knitted his eyebrows together. "But the Dowager told me so."