Page 26 of His Runaway Duchess (Regency Wedding Crashers #3)

CHAPTER 26

D aphne spun around, staring up at him as though he had suddenly grown too heads.

Edward, whose heart had pounded hard enough to make him sick most of the way here, allowed himself a small, neat smile.

She can never accuse me of not being surprising enough, then .

He had wondered on and off whether Daphne might have told her family the whole story, but judging by the glare Emily Belmont directed at him, he guessed that she had. The Other Daphne, as he’d called her in his head, was staring at him as if she wanted to tear his head off. He gave her a polite smile, which was not returned.

The three unfamiliar women were also gawking at him. The oldest and tallest one closed her jaw with a snap.

“Well,” she said. “What a surprise to see you here, Your Grace.”

He raised an eyebrow. “My wife is here. Why would I not be here, too?”

This was an excellent point, and the woman glanced uncertainly to her sisters for support. The women mumbled something, turned around unceremoniously, and scuttled off into the crowd.

“I hope they weren’t friends of yours,” Edward remarked, turning back to Daphne. “I think I might have scared them off. But then they thought I was cursed and that you were going to curse them, so perhaps they were glad to have an excuse to leave.”

He thought that was rather funny, but Daphne did not laugh. She stared up at him, a furrow between her eyebrows.

She’s so beautiful.

Her gown fit her perfectly, skimming tantalizingly over her shoulders. The white column of her neck was craned so she could look at him, her hair falling in ringlets down her nape. He suddenly found himself choked with desire, longing to lean forward and kiss her, touch that smooth white skin and wrap a ringlet around his fingertip.

Somebody jostled him from behind, and the dizzy longing evaporated as quickly as it had come. People were looking at him. He could feel their stares boring into his shoulders, curious and disapproving. People loved drama, after all.

Gossip about the disgraced Duchess of Thornbridge and her cursed husband arriving without warning must have already shot across the ballroom. It would be discussed thoroughly tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. Perhaps even several weeks from now, barring anything more interesting happening. The scandal sheets would mention it, and that would only serve to keep the scandal alive.

He found that he didn’t care. Not one bit. Why should he? What did it matter what any of them thought? All that mattered was Daphne.

She was still staring up at him incredulously. Her sister stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her, her arms folded and her face set in a scowl.

“I wonder how you dare,” Emily burst out. She took a step forward, wagging her finger in his face. “How could you treat my sister this way? And then to turn up here, scandalizing everybody—I know for a fact you weren’t invited!—and act as if nothing is wrong! I might not believe in curses, but I think you deserve a healthy dollop of bad luck! In fact…”

Edward blinked down at the tiny fury. She was forced to stand on her tiptoes, and even still she was about a foot shorter than him. It was strange that Daphne, while being the same height as her twin sister, seemed so much taller.

Emily finished her lecture with a nod, pushing her spectacles further up on her nose. “And what do you have to say to that , Sir?”

Edward cleared his throat. “Well, I… I’m sorry.”

Emily blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

He held out his arms to the sides. “I’m sorry. I acted badly, and with great coldness. I had reasons for my actions, but reasons can be little more than excuses. The plain fact is that I did not expect Daphne to leave me. I suspect I’ve been living with my head buried in the sand, like an ostrich, and my wife’s departure was the sharp jolt I needed.”

Emily seemed a little surprised by this. She glanced at her sister, who had remained silent throughout this entire conversation.

Daphne gave a faint shrug. “What do you want, Edward?” she asked.

She sounded resigned and tired, and a flash of guilt lanced through his chest.

“I want to talk,” he answered. “Will you dance with me?”

She nibbled on her lower lip, eyeing him. “No,” she said. “I might dance with somebody else, though.”

He snorted. “I won’t allow it.”

“Oh, no?”

“No, I won’t. I don’t much like other men touching what is mine.”

Daphne narrowed her eyes at him. “ Yours ?” she said, at the same moment that Emily muttered, “Oh, good heavens.”

Edward lifted his hands in surrender. “Please, Daphne. I want to talk to you.”

She sighed. “Very well. But not on the dance floor. We’re attracting enough stares as it is. Come, let’s talk somewhere private. There are a few little reading rooms off the ballroom. We can go there.”

“Daff…” Emily trailed off as she caught her sister’s eye. She heaved a sigh. “Whatever you like, Daffie. I’ll go and find Mama and Anna, and let them know what’s happening.”

A look passed between the two women—a quick, sisterly glance that Edward could not interpret.

Emily reached out, laying a hand on her sister’s shoulder. Then, she was off, weaving nimbly through the crowd, and Edward and Daphne were left alone.

Well, as alone as one could be when crammed into a ballroom, with hundreds of people hemming one in.

“Follow me,” Daphne said, not meeting his eyes. “It’s this way.”

The little reading rooms were an unusual addition to a ballroom. Anna had told Daphne that Mrs. Whitmore headed several literature clubs, and refreshments would be had in the ballroom and reading done in the little alcoves. Ladies only, of course. She was probably breaking some rule, leading Edward into the alcove.

A curtain separated the alcove from the rest of the ballroom. A candelabra lit up the small space, casting flickering shadows over the walls and ceiling. There was a small, square window in the back of the room, closed with a heavy velvet curtain, but doubtless looking over the garden. A single seat was placed by the curtain, and a low settee was set against the wall before a round table, on which the candelabra sat.

There were, of course, bookshelves lining the walls. At another time, Daphne would have liked to inspect the spines, taking out a few interesting-looking books, but she found that she could concentrate on nothing but Edward.

A jolt of relief and desire had flashed through her in the instant she first heard his amused, deep voice. The intensity of her feelings had terrified her. And then she’d turned, and there he was, staring down at her with a hungry look in his eyes. In response to that look, she had felt, and could still feel, the answering pull of desire in the pit of her stomach.

To distract herself, she folded her hands in front of her waist and did her best to meet his eyes coolly and calmly.

“So, then, Edward, what do you want? Or perhaps we should start with how you knew I was here.”

He shrugged. “I knew you’d gone to your mother’s. I went there first, only to find that you were not at home. A little digging revealed that Mrs. Whitmore was hosting a ball. Well, anyone who is anyone attends her parties, and I happen to know that your sister attends her book clubs. It was a short leap to guess that you would be here.”

She stared at him. “For a man who shuns Society, you know a good deal about it.”

He grinned sheepishly. “A great deal of Society requires only common sense and a little rational thought. Perhaps I shouldn’t have surprised you here, but I… I wanted to see you, Daphne. I wanted to see you so badly that I could not wait.”

She wanted to beam with delight, to throw her arms around his broad shoulders and kiss his cheek. She did not do that, however.

He doesn’t love you. He cares only for his reputation and wants you to come home so that he doesn’t feel guilty. Remember how cold he was.

“If you’re here to convince me to come back,” she said aloud, “you’re wasting your time.”

His face fell. “You won’t come? You must know that I won’t compel you, Daphne.”

“No, I know you would never force me to do anything. But no, I mean quite the opposite. I will have to come back, I suppose. I shall live as a spinster, and you will live as a bachelor. But fear not, I won’t bother you. Alex deserves better. I… I blamed myself for his accident, but I know it was not my fault. Not truly. I’ll come home, so you have wasted your trip here. You can go back to pretending that you do not care for me. Although, of course, it’s not a pretense, is it?”

He closed his eyes momentarily. Was that pain Daphne saw flashing across his face? No, surely not. A man like Edward did not feel pain.

“You mistake me, Daphne,” he murmured. “I did come to convince you to come home, it’s true. But I also came to tell you the truth.”

“The truth? What horrifying secrets are you here to tell me?”

He held out his hands to either side. “Nothing I myself knew, up until yesterday.”

She paused, frowning. There was a strange, haunted look in his eyes, and a sense of unease flitted through her again.

“Edward? What are you talking about?”

Edward turned away from her, pacing the short length of the room as if to compose himself.

“You might have heard that my stepmother has left my grounds and my home.”

Daphne staggered backward. “I did hear it, but I didn’t… I didn’t give credence to such silly whispers. I assumed it was nonsense.”

“I’m glad I stopped believing in the curse,” he said, with a snort. “Otherwise, this would have terrified me. No, Clarissa left this morning. She has gone to a convent.”

Daphne suddenly found herself off-balance and dizzy, and she sat down in the single chair with a thump.

“A convent ?” she echoed disbelievingly. “Why? Oh, Edward, did you send her away?”

“Yes, I did, but when you hear why, you’ll agree with me. I swear it.”

She eyed him narrowly. “Are you sure? Tell me what you mean.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, glancing nervously towards the closed curtain that separated them from the rest of the ballroom.

“I don’t wish to discuss it here,” he murmured. “It’s… sensitive. It shocked me, and I know it will shock you. I will tell you everything, but only once we can talk in absolute private. This information must never, ever see the light of day. Again, you’ll understand why when you hear the story.”

“Edward, you’re scaring me,” Daphne said, with a nervous laugh. “Has there been a murder?”

He said nothing, and Daphne had to turn away from the look in his eyes.

“I see,” she whispered. “You know, you don’t have to explain all of it to me, not if you don’t want to. Your business is your own, and I don’t want to pry.”

He bit his lip. “I know, but I want to. I want to tell you the truth, Daphne. You deserve to know the whole story. I’ve kept enough back from you to last a lifetime, to be frank.”

She got up, somewhat shakily, and paced over to the bookshelves. The titles blurred in the flickering candlelight.

“And… and Alex?” she heard herself say. “What about him?”

“He will miss his grandmother,” Edward admitted. “And he misses you, too. Here, I have this for you.”

He withdrew a little square of paper, carefully but imperfectly folded, and sealed with a blob of red wax. Daphne’s name was written on the front in a looping, childish hand.

“It’s from Alex, of course,” Edward added unnecessarily. “It’s all his work. Except for the seal, which I helped him with. I didn’t want him playing with hot wax on his own.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I missed him, you know. He’s such a sweet boy.”

At this point, Edward was standing by the curtained doorway, and Daphne by the window, with the whole room between them. He took a hesitant step forward, and Daphne mirrored him before she knew what she was doing.

“And me?” Edward whispered. “Did you miss me?”

She closed her eyes. “Don’t do this to me, Edward. I… I love too easily, I think. If I fall in love, then it hurts, and I cannot get out again. You blow hot and cold, and I simply can’t manage it. I don’t blame you—I believe it is who you are. You are yourself, and I am me, and perhaps it is best if we go our separate ways.”

When she risked opening her eyes again, Edward was staring at her, the hunger back in his eyes. She felt the reciprocal shiver through her whole body and resisted the urge to race towards him.

“I don’t want to be that way, though,” he said, his voice shaking in a way she’d never heard before. “I married Jane because it was easy and comfortable. I knew she’d never love me properly, since it was not her way. For me, that meant that I did not have to worry about loving her, about losing my heart. You saw how I distanced myself from Alex because I was afraid. I was a fool, Daphne. I have spoken to Alex and apologized for being a poor father. I told him I loved him, Daphne. I don’t believe I’ve ever said that to another living soul. My father certainly never said it to me.”

Daphne swallowed hard, absorbing his words.

Holding his gaze, she tilted up her chin. “I’m proud of you. Alex deserves a father, and you deserve to understand that the way you were treated was wrong— terribly wrong. I believe you do understand it now.”

He took a tentative step forward. Once again, Daphne mirrored him.

“And you, Daphne,” he said, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “I blew hot and cold, as you said. The truth was, I always intended to be cold, but when you are around, I cannot control myself…I have never encountered such feelings before.”

She swallowed thickly. Her mouth was dry. Another step. “Explain.”

“I’m familiar with the feeling of desire, of course,” he began, chuckling wryly. “And you are a beautiful woman. But there’s more. I want to spend more time with you, Daphne. I want to talk to you, listen to you, and hear your opinion on things. I care about what you think, it seems.”

“What a shocking turn of events,” she remarked acidly. “How unfortunate for you.”

He chuckled again. “It is unfortunate because you, my dear, have a great many opinions, and I find that I want to hear all of them.”

“Oh dear. Perhaps you are cursed.”

He laughed aloud at that.

The gap between them was almost closed. A prickling sensation ran over Daphne’s skin, making her shiver. Desire throbbed in her stomach, pulsing lower and lower.

At last, Edward lifted his hand, tentatively at first, and then with greater confidence when she did not pull away. His fingertips ghosted over the side of her neck, across her shoulders, and then down to trace the edge of her neckline. Her heart pounded so hard that she was sure he could hear it.

“I want you , Daphne,” he whispered. “Properly. Not snatched moments and losses of control here and there. I want us to be properly married. I want Alex to look upon you as a mother. I want… well, I suppose what I am trying to say is that I wish to renegotiate our agreement.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Well. I… I would be amenable to that. But, Edward, you cannot push me away again. I don’t expect you to change the habits of a lifetime in an instant, but you must try, please.”

“If only you will give me another chance, I will try to do whatever you require,” Edward whispered, and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her.

His arm wound around her waist, pressing her against him. His lips were dry and smooth. He tasted of salt and whiskey, and she felt the edge of his teeth slide against her lower lip. Heat flared in her gut, pulsing between her legs. She gripped his shoulders as if to steady herself, sliding a hand to cup the back of his neck.

His free hand slid up her ribcage, his fingers teasing the underside of her breast, and Daphne broke away to gasp aloud, desire making her shudder.

“Daphne, I…” Edward whispered against her throat.

And then the curtain flew back.

They leaped apart as if a pot of boiling water had been thrown their way. A faintly scandalized pair of young dandies were standing there, staring at them, with books tucked under their arms.

“Oh,” one of the dandies managed. “I… We… didn’t know the room was occupied.”

Daphne knew she must have looked flushed and disheveled. She tossed back her head, hoping she wasn’t too red in the face.

“It’s quite all right,” she said coolly. “We are just leaving.”

The dandies exchanged nervous glances.

Daphne strode past them, and Edward followed after her, shooting the dandies contemptuous glances. The poor gentlemen skittered away as he passed.

“So, that is what these rooms are used for,” one of them whispered to the other.

Daphne tried not to hear it.

“You brought your carriage, I assume,” she whispered, pushing her way through the crowd.

“Indeed.” Edward looked irritatingly composed.

“We’ll leave at once.”

“Home?”

“It’s too far.” And I am not sure I can wait that long to have you. “We’ll go back to my mother’s house.”

Edward looked faintly uneasy. “As you like.”

Daphne turned, tilting her head back to look up at him. Desire was making her breathless again. “I thought we could start with renegotiating the wedding night.”

A slow, hungry smile spread across his face. “You’ll get no complaints from me, wife.”