Page 20 of His Runaway Duchess (Regency Wedding Crashers #3)

CHAPTER 20

A tap on the door sometime later almost made Daphne jump out of her skin. She bounced to her feet, feeling irrationally guilty, and turned to face the door.

She wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d sat there, mulling over Clarissa’s strange words. Clarissa clearly wanted her gone, and that was no surprise. As far as Daphne could tell, Clarissa had been the only woman in both Edward’s and Alex’s lives for a long time and did not seem to want to give up that position. Especially since Daphne was so popular with Alex.

Was popular, Daphne reminded herself. Alex might not want to see me again.

Peter Tinn stepped into the room. He looked anxious as always but flashed her a reassuring smile.

“Master Alexander is fine,” was the first thing he said. “His arm isn’t even broken. There’s a nasty sprain to his wrist, and a good amount of cuts and bruises, to say nothing of wounded pride. But he’s safe and well, and remarkably lucky. The doctor seems happy enough. He’s asking for you, by the way. Master Alexander, that is, not the doctor.”

It was a frail joke, but Daphne smiled anyway.

Peter hesitated, eyeing her uncertainly. “Are you coming, Your Grace?”

“I am. Just… Just in a minute,” she murmured, not quite meeting his eyes.

There was a pause, then Peter took a careful step forward.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” he said quietly and carefully. “It was an accident.”

Daphne shook her head. “I should have been watching him. I should have been careful. What was I thinking ?”

“Master Alexander can be very headstrong. From what I understand, he’s much like his father at that age. He’s learned a serious lesson. Until now, he always complained about not being allowed to ride as fast or jump as high as he wanted, and now he knows why care is needed.” Peter shrugged. “It was a valuable lesson, and the cost was not as high as we might have feared. His Grace lashed out at you, I know, but you must see that it’s only because he was so worried about his son. A natural reaction, I’d say.”

Daphne pushed a hand through her hair. It occurred to her then, for the first time, what a sight she must look. Her hair was tangled, hanging over her shoulder, the strip of ribbon used to tie the end of her plait long since gone. There was a splash of dried mud on her cheek, and the hem of her skirts were all but ruined.

“Where is he, then?” she asked. “I’d like to see Alex.”

Alex still lay in the parlor where he’d been placed. Peter led Daphne there, and Alex brightened at once when he saw her.

A roaring fire had been stoked in the hearth, filling the room with heat and light. There was an arrangement of sweets on a table near Alex’s elbow. Marzipan, she noticed. A fragrant tea steamed quietly beside the marzipan, and somebody had put a handful of toy soldiers there, too. Blankets had been laden over his legs, and Mrs. Trench was assiduously plumping cushions behind his back. A bandage was wound around his forearm and wrist.

“Daffie, there you are!” he exclaimed, sitting upright. “Papa’s just gone to talk to Doctor Seymour, but they both say I’ll be as right as rain in a few days, or a week or so. I’ve only got to keep my hand still, which means no lessons for me for a while, as I can’t hold a pen.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Mrs. Trench lectured, ruffling his hair. “I’ll find something educational for you to do.”

He stuck his tongue out at her. Mrs. Trench only smiled, shaking her head.

Peter stood in the doorway, staring at Mrs. Trench with a faintly entranced expression on his face.

“Shall we give Her Grace a moment with Master Alexander, then, Jemimah?” he asked, a trifle nervously. “You’ve had a shock yourself. I could get a cup of tea for you, perhaps?”

She smiled at him. “Thank you, Peter. That’s kind.”

The two of them shuffled out, talking in low voices.

Daphne sank onto a low stool beside Alex.

“They like each other, you know,” he said confidentially. “Mrs. Trench and Peter. They’re always looking at each other. Did you know that Mrs. Trench isn’t really married? I thought she was, on account of the Mrs. , but Papa said not. It’s just a respectful thing, I believe, like calling the housekeeper Mrs. Cobb even though she’s not married, either.”

Daphne smiled at this babble of information.

“I think Peter and Mrs. Trench like each other, too. They suit each other, don’t they? But Mrs. Trench probably cannot marry him. She would have to stop being your governess, and she loves you too much.”

Alex frowned at this. “That’s a great pity. Is there nothing she can do? Can she not get married and keep her job? Men do it, all the time. Why should Mrs. Trench not be allowed?”

Daphne sighed. “That’s an excellent question, Alex. I’m afraid I don’t have the answer. But enough about all of that—I am here to see you . How are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?”

“My arm hurts a little,” Alex confessed. “But Doctor Seymour put a few drops of something in my tea, and now I feel a little better. He said that there might be pain, but I should be careful not to move my arm too much even so. He said I’m very brave, and Papa said that I’m very silly.”

“You are, Alex,” Daphne responded, swallowing hard to choke back tears. “You mustn’t do such a thing again.”

“I bet Papa could have cleared that jump,” Alex muttered mulishly.

“I daresay he could. But I could not, and you are too small. You were lucky because you might have hurt yourself so seriously that you would not have been able to ride again. Alex, you could have died .” She swallowed again, forcing herself to continue. “I thought you were dead, for a minute. Did they tell you that? Your papa thought you were dead. His face was so pale and terrified. You can’t do that again, Alex.”

Alex lowered his head, seeming a little ashamed.

“Doctor Seymour said that I could have died,” he mumbled. “Papa’s face was all tight and funny. I think he’s angry with me.”

“He’s not angry with you. He’s only worried, that’s all. If he’s angry with anyone, it is me.”

Alex’s head snapped up at that. “Angry with you? Why would he be angry with you?”

Daphne immediately regretted saying that. “He’s not angry with me. At least, not much. But I ought to have been taking care of you. I should have been more diligent. The race… the race was a bad idea, I see that now.”

Alex leaned forward, his face alight. “But I liked the race. I’m tired of being treated like a… like a doll, Daffie! I know I’m too young to do many things, but I can do some things. Mrs. Trench taught me chess so that Papa and I could play, but he never wants to play with me. Mrs. Trench can’t ride, and Peter always lets me win. I like you , Daffie. I don’t even have friends my own age. I liked Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Stephen very much, but now that they’ve… now that they’ve gone home, I’m all alone again.” He sniffed, dropping his head to his chest. “You won’t leave, will you?”

No, of course not, Daphne wanted to say, but the words were stuck in her throat.

“They only want you to be safe,” she said instead. “And you were safe, until me and my stupid race. Life can’t always be about what’s fun , Alex. I should have taken better care of you. It… it is my fault, no matter what anyone says. I’ve never had much to do with children, you know. My sister and I are the youngest. We are the children of the house, and we’ve always been treated as such.”

Did I think that saying a vow and putting on a wedding ring would make me a grown-up?

They’re all right, all of them. Alex could have died because I couldn’t see the danger.

That was a terrifying thought, and it constricted her throat and made her feel dizzy. It was a good thing that she was already sitting down because Daphne worried that she might have collapsed altogether.

A tap at the door made her jump. She spun around to see a kindly, middle-aged man with a pince-nez smiling down at her.

“Your Grace? I am Doctor Seymour.”

“Doctor, it’s a pleasure. Alex is well, I have heard?”

He nodded. “A little rest and care is the thing, and perhaps no more big jumps on horseback for a good long while, hm?”

The doctor aimed his comment at Alex, who flushed and smiled, but Daphne felt as though it was for her —a sharp reproof.

Look at what you’ve done, Your Grace. As if you were worthy of the name. Look at the state of the boy. Look at the state of you. Some duchess you are.

She had to turn away, smoothing out her expression.

“His Grace is in his study,” Doctor Seymour was saying now. “I plan to make a few last checks of Master Alexander’s health, and then I shall leave. Your Grace, His Grace was asking if you might step in to speak with him.”

“Of course,” Daphne said, turning around with a neat, little smile. “I’ll see you soon, Alex.”

She strode out of the room without looking back.

Edward did not glance up as Daphne stepped into his study. He was opening letters, the silver blade of a letter opener flashing in the sunlight.

“That looks sharp,” she responded, and he glanced up then. “The letter opener, I mean. It has an unusual handle.”

He grunted, eyeing the handle in question. “It’s carved jade. Something my father brought back from his travels. A present to himself. And it is sharp, but don’t worry, I’m careful. Now, Daphne, I summoned you here?—”

“Yes, why did you do that? I’m the Duchess, yet you had the doctor send for me as if I were an errant schoolgirl.” She folded her hands in front of her waist. “I didn’t appreciate that.”

He held her gaze for a long moment, then gave another grunt.

“Very well. I never thought. You have my apologies. And I apologize for how harshly I spoke to you earlier. You were reckless in allowing Alex to race his horse, but I know how stubborn he can be. No doubt you did tell him not to jump, and he ignored you. He’s tried it before, with me. Of course, I was firmer with him.”

He added that last part almost in an undertone. Daphne heard it anyway and bristled accordingly.

“Perhaps if you spent more time with your son, then?—”

“Not this again,” Edward cut her off brusquely, getting to his feet and circling the desk to face her head-on. “I thought this incident would have made it clear. I will raise my son, and I’ll do it without your input if you don’t mind.”

She took a step forward. “But I do mind. And why must you speak to me like this? Truly, Edward, sometimes I feel as though I have married two different men. You can be so… so affectionate, so intimate at times, and?—”

“Let’s not mention those occasions,” Edward interrupted hastily. A flush was creeping across his cheeks.

“But I must bring up those occasions. I… I could think of nothing else but you, Edward! And then you would become a different person. How was I meant to understand?”

She took another step forward, and this time he did not step away. Heat flared through her, and she reached out tentatively, flattening her palm against the warm, rich material of his embroidered waistcoat.

She fancied she could feel his heart thudding under her touch. Edward stared at her, his eyes hungry and desperate.

He must care for me . He must.

Daphne stared at him for a long moment. She hated how she could still feel the pulse of desire going through her. She still wanted to kiss him, to touch him, to be near him. She still wanted him . Another step closer, and she was pressed against him, the wanting building up to an ache she could not ignore.

He dipped his head, his breath becoming ragged, and she tilted up her chin. She could almost taste his lips, warm and soft and achingly delicious, and the thrum of desire became unbearable. His hands hovered just over her waist, as if he longed to touch her but did not dare. If she glanced down, she knew she would see that they were shaking.

He wants me, too. I can feel the desire in him, just as strongly as I feel it in me.

“ Edward ,” she breathed, their lips a hair’s breadth apart. “Edward, I?—”

He pulled back, leaving her bereft and cold all of a sudden.

“That’s enough,” he said, his back turned to her. “Stop it, Daphne. I am asking you to stop. I am not… I am not strong enough.”

Edward’s feelings and wants, it seemed, were just as alien to her as they had been when she first came here. Back still turned, he moved to sit behind his desk again. Perhaps he felt safer with a little space between them.

“I’m never going to get close to you, are you?” she said, half to herself. “I keep thinking that something will change, but it won’t. You won’t change.”

He shuffled papers around on his desk. “I believe I warned you about this when we first agreed to marry. I am not an agreeable man, Daphne. I don’t plan to be cruel, and I don’t plan to ruin your life, but I must be left alone. Why can’t you see that?”

She swallowed hard, her gaze wandering over his head to the garden outside. At some point, luncheon had come and gone, and early afternoon light spilled golden over the lawn, the trees swaying in a faint breeze.

“I do see it, now,” she said, her voice small. “And I can see that my interference with Alex could have led to a serious accident. I know that it was partially my fault.”

Edward blinked, seeming a little taken aback. “You do?”

“Yes. And don’t worry, I understand now. You’ve built up walls around your mind and heart, and it would take a stronger woman than me to knock them down. I doubt that even Jane managed to do it.”

He bristled. “My marriage to Jane was?—”

“None of my business, yes, I know,” she interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. “You promised me a life as a spinster, and I shall begin on that life at once. Don’t worry, Edward. I shan’t bother you anymore. It’s too tiring.”

He stared at her for a long moment, bafflement clear in his eyes.

“Oh. Well. I’m glad to hear that.”

She nodded and half turned to go. Another thought occurred to her, and she turned back.

“Just promise me that you won’t turn everybody anyway. Clarissa, for instance. She can be strange and far too possessive of you both, but I believe she cares for you. It’s your harsh behavior that pushes her away and makes her cling to you as though she might lose you.”

Edward rose to his feet. “What does Clarissa have to do with this? What are you talking about?”

Daphne sighed, shaking her head. “Nothing, nothing. It’s just… Well, she dislikes me. That is clear.”

“She does not dislike you. She is protective, certainly, but that is not a crime.”

Daphne tilted her head. “You don’t see, do you? I don’t blame you. I don’t blame Clarissa, either. She talked to me today, and I think I saw a different side of her. She’s already lost a child, and now she’s losing you and Alex day by day. That’s because of you, Edward. You are driving her away, and driving her to desperation .” She gave a short laugh, holding out her arms to the sides. “You’re driving us all to desperation.”

“I thought you said you were finished with offering unsolicited advice,” Edward snapped. “You are acting strangely, Daphne. I brought you here to apologize. ”

She smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, Edward. This will be the last piece of advice I offer. Oh, except for one.”

“Do tell me,” Edward shot back sarcastically, dropping back into his seat. “I’m keen to hear your wisdom.”

Daphne only sighed. She was tired, a sudden, bone-deep, aching tiredness that made her want to sink to the ground and stay there. Now that her mind was made up, her strength had left her.

“If you won’t go horse riding with your son, Edward, at least play chess with him.”

She left without waiting to hear his reply.