Page 5

T here was a knock on Daphne's door.

"Come in," she called.

The door opened gently, and the maid stepped in, holding a delicate cream-colored envelope in her hands. "A letter for you, my lady," she said, presenting it with a small curtsy.

Daphne's curiosity piqued as she took the envelope, her fingers brushing over the elegant seal bearing Richard's family crest. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you," Daphne said, her voice soft as she carefully broke the seal.

The maid nodded and exited quietly, leaving Daphne alone with her thoughts and the letter. She unfolded the parchment with eager hands, her eyes quickly darting across the page.

Dearest Lady Daphne,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write to ask if you would join me tomorrow for a promenade by the lake. The weather looks to be fine, and it would be my honor to share in your company for a short while. I look forward to your reply.

Sincerely,

Lord Richard.

A smile tugged at her lips as she read the words aloud in a soft whisper, her heart thudding in her chest. "A promenade... by the lake," she mused, her voice barely above a whisper.

She leaned back, "How lovely it would be," she murmured to herself, imagining the scene. "Just the two of us...”

And nothing – especially not the duke – to distract them. Her heart fluttered with excitement and anticipation. This was exactly what she needed.

When the next day arrived, Daphne dressed in her finest clothes and arrived at the lake ahead of time. Her sister Joyce had poked fun at her for being so eager, but Daphne did not care.

For it wasn't just the thought of walking with Richard that excited her—it was the possibility that today might bring them closer.

Perhaps if things go well, he might even think to ask for my hand in marriage.

The two of them had met twice in total now. It was enough for her to think of him as a promising candidate for marriage. The question remained – did he feel the same?

Her curiosity was soon to be answered, as she spotted Richard in the park, waving at her from afar. She quickened her pace, grateful for the company.

"Lady Daphne," Richard greeted warmly, taking her gloved hand and pressing a light kiss to it. "You look radiant this afternoon."

"Thank you, my lord," she replied with a smile, "And what a pleasant day it is for a stroll.”

"And indeed, you are correct," he said, offering her his arm. Always the perfect gentleman.

Together, they began to walk, the pleasant hum of conversation flowing easily between them. It was exactly the sort of day Daphne had imagined.

They started with the usual pleasantries, the kind that Daphne had heard a thousand times at balls and dinners.

"Have you attended the latest soirees, Lady Daphne?" Richard asked politely, his voice carrying the same gentle tone it always did. He was a thorough gentleman after all.

"Oh, just the usual," Daphne replied, trying to keep her smile bright. "Nothing particularly worth mentioning, I'm afraid. And you, my lord? I imagine you have been quite busy."

"Yes, quite," Richard said with a nod, though his eyes seemed to drift as they spoke. "The season is always bustling, as you know. There's never a shortage of invitations, and one must always keep up appearances."

Daphne nodded, though inwardly, she felt a flicker of disappointment.

She had hoped their conversation would be more.

.. meaningful, perhaps even intimate. After all, he had written her that beautiful letter.

She had imagined them laughing and talking about more than just the endless social obligations that came with their position in society.

Couples that she had observed at balls she had attended came to mind. Daphne had pitied them for going through the obvious motions of courtships. Was she doing the same here? The realization lodged itself heavily in her throat, and she gulped it down with some difficulty.

No. We are only in the early stages of getting to know each other. It is too soon for judgement.

"And how is your family, Lady Daphne?" Richard asked, oblivious to her inner debate.

"They are well, thank you," she replied. Another predictable topic. "You know how it is with ball season. It seems we are always in a constant state of preparation these days."

Richard chuckled softly. "Ah, yes. It is quite the happening time of the year for ladies of the ton . I am happy that you have something to keep you occupied.”

Daphne willed herself to smile though she felt a faint sense of disappointment creep up on her.

She did not wish to discuss pleasantries with him like this, and become a caricature of the same people that she had always frowned upon. She wished to know him on a deeper level, removed from the superficialities of polite exchange. After all, what was the point of meeting like this?

Never one to give up easily, Daphne was adamant to steer the conversation in a more interesting direction.

"Do you ever feel, my lord, that these events become rather repetitive?" she asked with a renewed sense of hope.. "It seems we are always attending the same parties, seeing the same people, and having the same conversations."

Richard glanced at her, his expression slightly puzzled. "Repetitive?" he repeated. "I suppose, in some ways, yes. But they are necessary, of course. The social season must be observed."

"Yes, of course," Daphne agreed, half-heartedly. She had hoped for a different answer. "But one cannot… help but want more sometimes. Have you ever felt that way?”

Richard shrugged. "It is what is expected. And I am of the opinion that if we all adhere to what is expected of us, society functions smoothly. It is more than just an expectation, it is a duty.”

Daphne's heart sank at the word. Duty.

That word seemed to sum up everything about Richard—he was kind, polite, and well-mannered, but he was also bound by duty. It was clear that his world was neatly ordered, with no room for the kind of spontaneity or depth that Daphne longed for.

She had imagined their walk to be full of laughter and witty exchanges, perhaps even a quiet moment where they shared something personal, something that made her feel closer to him. But instead, they were walking side by side, discussing nothing of consequence.

"Yes," Daphne murmured, trying to hide her disappointment. "Of course."

"I am happy that you understand,” Richard replied, cheerfully.

Desperate to salvage the conversation, she tried once more. "Do you ever dream of traveling, my lord? Seeing places beyond England?"

Richard glanced at her, "Traveling? I suppose, one day, when duties permit it. But my focus, for now, is here. There's always something that needs attending to."

“I see.”

Daphne forced a polite smile. It was becoming painfully clear that Richard's idea of an engaging conversation was vastly different from her own. Where she longed for adventure, for passion, and for a sense of something greater than the mundane, Richard seemed perfectly content with the status quo.

There was nothing wrong with that. But it ignited no spark inside of her.

With each passing minute, Daphne's heart sank a little further.

She glanced at Richard, who was smiling at something she had just said, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. It occurred to her then that perhaps she had been too hopeful. Perhaps she had wanted more from Richard than he was capable of giving. Her prince charming.

Oh, but how could this even happen? We had gotten off on such a lovely start. When she had first met Richard, she had been convinced that they would be a lovely match. So why was it that now that she got to spend some time with him, it was turning out differently than what she had anticipated?

But Daphne did not get the chance to dwell over it for too long as behind them, a second set of footsteps approached, heavier and more deliberate.

Daphne stiffened as she recognized the presence before she even saw him.

Ambrose. What does he want now?

Ambrose's tall figure loomed beside them as he caught up, his expression unreadable but with a glint of amusement in his eyes. He had already made it clear during their last encounter that he disapproved of her. Was he here to ruin things more?

"Ah, I see you've brought Lady Daphne along for a walk," Ambrose said with a slight sneer. His tone was polite enough, but there was an edge to it that set Daphne's nerves on edge. "How... charming."

Daphne tightened her grip on Richard's arm. She had no desire to engage with Ambrose, especially not after the last disastrous interaction they'd had.

"Charming indeed," Daphne replied coolly, trying to mask her irritation. "Lord Richard thought it would be a terrific idea to go for a stroll.”

Ambrose's smile widened, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"I see," he drawled, and then looked towards the sky, smirking. “Though it looks as though it might rain.”

Daphne looked towards the sky, worried. And sure enough, it seemed that rain clouds were approaching. She thought it to be an omen – Ambrose had brought the clouds with him.

“Oh, it does. Doesn’t it?” Richard replied. “That’s quite the shame.”

“Maybe you will have to cut your little stroll short,” Ambrose said. “Though – perhaps that is not such an awful thing. What exactly do you two find to talk about during these little promenades of yours?"

Daphne could feel her temper flaring. He was interrupting again. Looking at him now, she was certain that Ambrose took pleasure in making her uncomfortable, in reminding her that she wasn't welcome in his world.

But what made it worse for her that he was not entirely off the mark. It was true that the two of them had little of substance to speak about. But Daphne was not going to give the Duke the satisfaction of being proven correct.