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“I cannot imagine why you would be so curious, Your Grace." she said, her voice sharp despite her attempt to remain civil. "But nonetheless, Lord Richard and I have plenty to speak about. In fact, we were in the midst of a rather interesting conversation before you… interrupted us."

The Duke's' lips twisted into an amused smile. "Interrupted?" his eyes dashed between his brother, and then her. "My dear Lady Daphne, I'm merely trying to engage in conversation. Surely, there's no harm in that?"

Richard sighed beside her, perhaps picking up on his brother's intentions.

"Brother, we are simply enjoying a quiet afternoon. The lady is correct – you are interrupting uninvited."

Oh, he is standing up for me. Daphne thought to herself. Sure, it wasn't as vigorously as she had wished but it was something.

Ambrose wasn't deterred. "Oh, I'm not trying to make anything of it.

But as your brother, I am only naturally curious to know what brings the both of you together.

" His gaze flicked to Daphne, his expression almost mocking.

"After all, isn't it well known that Lady Daphne prefers to stay in the background, blending in with the scenery? "

Daphne's cheeks flushed, and she felt her control slipping. He was purposely trying to embarrass her, and she had enough of it.

"Your Grace, I cannot help but think that your gentle questioning is more like an investigation,” Daphne snapped, her voice rising in anger. "Instead, you can simply state plainly what you wish to convey.”

Ambrose smirked, clearly enjoying her outburst. "I believe I just did, Lady Daphne. But if you insist on pressing the matter further, I'd be happy to elaborate."

Before Daphne could respond, Richard gently placed a hand on her arm, trying to diffuse the situation. "Let's not turn this into an argument," he said softly, glancing between her and Ambrose. "There's no need for that."

“Yes, no need,” Ambrose said, almost tauntingly. “Richard is right.”

But Daphne was finding it difficult to let it go.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Richard said, “I believe I have spotted Lord Henderson. I will be right back in a moment, and Ambrose… please, try not to argue.”

He left the two of them to their own devices for a moment, accompanied only by Daphne’s chaperone who trailed behind them.

“I see what you are trying to do here, Your Grace,” Daphne started. He had been provoking her since the moment they'd met, and she was tired of playing nice.

“What am I trying to do, exactly?” Ambrose replied, bored. “Richard sure knows the right moment to leave, does he not? Perhaps he should return, and extend a few calming phrases to you. You look like you are seething.”

Daphne curled her fists to the side. She was seething, he was right about that much.

“I understand that you do not seem to have a favorable opinion of me, Your Grace. But I do not think it is fair for you to try and convince your brother of the same,” she tried her best to keep her voice even.

“I believe I am at liberty to do what I see fit,” Ambrose shrugged.

He thinks that he knows better than everyone else. “But why must it include efforts to belittle me?” her voice was strained. “Perhaps I do not fit your image of what a perfect lady should be, but is it not entirely entitled of you to assume that you know everything that there is to know about me?”

Ambrose's smirk faded, his eyes narrowing. “Lady Daphne. It seems your memory is not the best. We have had this conversation before already. I know enough to make up my mind.”

“Well, then I shall prove you wrong,” she blurted out the words.

Her defiance made him pause for a moment. “Careful, Lady Daphne. You're treading dangerous ground."

"Is that a threat, Your Grace?"

Ambrose took a step closer, his voice lowering. "No, a threat would be taking things too far. But you can consider it to be…” he paused, observing her. “A warning.”

“How unlucky for you then that I am not easily deterred by warnings,” Daphne shot back.

“That would make you unwise,” Ambrose nodded. “Another thing to add to my list of why you’re ill-suited for my brother.”

Daphne's heart pounded in her chest, and she felt a surge of anger rise within her. She realized that this was exactly what he had meant to do – provoke her so that she reacted. Richard was close by. He could overhear them, thereby worsening her chances.

Oh. He is a cunning man.

"You don't have the right to make that decision," Daphne retorted. "Richard is his own man. He doesn't need you to control his life."

Ambrose's gaze darkened. For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, and all Daphne could focus on was the intensity of his stare, the way his presence seemed to fill the space between them.

"You think you know Richard? You only know of him," Ambrose's voice was barely above a whisper now, but it was laced with menace. "You think you understand what it means to be part of this world? You're nothing but a naive girl playing at being a lady. You'll ruin him."

Daphne opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, Ambrose reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her closer. The sudden contact sent a jolt through her, and for a brief moment, she was too stunned to react.

"Don't challenge me, Lady Daphne," Ambrose warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Her heart raced, not from fear, but from the sheer proximity of him. She could feel the heat of his body, the firmness of his grip on her arm. For a moment, all she could do was stare up at him, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

But then, just as quickly, her defiance returned. She yanked her arm free from his grasp, her eyes blazing with anger.

"Or what?" she shot back, her voice trembling slightly but still defiant. "What will you do, Your Grace? You can't control me, nor can you control your brother. I know you hate to hear this, but it is the truth."

They stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills. Neither of them wanted to back down. It seemed like she had finally met her match when it came to her relentlessness. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, out of anger perhaps.

But as Ambrose continued to stare at her, something shifted. Her breath caught, and she realized with a shock that her heart wasn't just racing because she was angry.

He was having a strange kind of effect on her.

Ambrose's eyes flickered, his expression softening for just a moment, as if he, too, had felt the change in the air between them. But then, just as quickly, the moment passed, and his mask of arrogance slipped back into place.

"We'll see who wins this, Lady Daphne," Ambrose said coldly, “But you could not have chosen a worse contender. I do not like to lose.”

Daphne's pulse quickened, but she forced herself to remain calm. "We'll see, indeed, Your Grace," she replied, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. "We'll just have to wait and see."

With that, she turned away from him. Richard, where are you? She would wait for him to resume their walk, ignoring the way Ambrose continued to stare in her direction.