Page 6 of His Runaway Duchess (Regency Wedding Crashers #3)

CHAPTER 6

D aphne woke up and spent a full minute trying to work out where she was.

When the memory of last night returned to her, she groaned aloud and pressed her face into the pillow.

What was I thinking? I’ve humiliated myself beyond belief this time. And then, to cap it all off, I stormed into my host’s study late at night and tried to tell him how to raise his child.

Oh yes, very well done, Daphne. Just when it seems there’s no other way for you to embarrass yourself, you stoop to a new low.

At least I know he’ll keep quiet about it. He must be just as mortified as I am.

She rose and dressed listlessly, combing out her hair and pinning it up. She was hungry but was not looking forward to wandering around the house and looking for the breakfast room. At least she could be reasonably sure that she would be breakfasting alone. Who would want to exchange pleasantries with her after the show she’d made of herself the previous night?

The ground level of the house seemed to be deserted and was notably silent. Daphne didn’t believe she’d ever spent such a quiet morning. In their house, it was all chaos and chatter. None of them seemed to be able to bear a moment’s silence. Even Emily, who they thought of as very meek and quiet, was not considered to be reserved by Society’s standards. The Belmont girls were chatterboxes, everybody knew that, and they got the trait from their mother.

The silence, then, was oppressive.

Daphne was just starting to despair of ever finding any breakfast when a man stepped out of a room and closed the door behind him. She recognized the steward from last night and hurried towards him.

“Excuse me, Sir!”

He paused, just about to stride off, and shot her a shrewd look. “Miss Belmont, good morning. I trust you slept well.”

She cleared her throat. “Uh, well enough. Where is the breakfast room? I was promised breakfast before I left. Oh, and what time will the carriage be here for me?”

The steward blinked at her. “Carriage?”

“Yes, His Grace said that he would send me home in one of his carriages.”

There was an odd look on the steward’s face, one that Daphne could not quite interpret. “Ah. I imagine Edward would offer that, yes. Well, breakfast is in here, the room I’ve just left. The table is all set. The Duke and the Dowager Duchess are in there already.”

With that, the steward turned on his heel, shooting her one last curious look, and left her staring after him.

So much for a peaceful breakfast, then. She sighed. Come on, then. No time for cowardice.

Not giving herself a chance to change her mind, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

She was immediately met by raised voices.

“How dare you do this to your name?” came an angry feminine voice. “To yourself? To your child? To me ? Do you not remember the last time you made such an infamous appearance in the scandal sheets?”

Well, it was too late for Daphne to dart out again. She froze in the doorway, taking in the scene.

The breakfast room was not the cavernous space she’d imagined. It was not a proper breakfast room, but a comfortable, little parlor converted and used as a breakfast room. The space was dominated by a long, well-polished table set with silver dishes, and a fire crackled in the hearth, warding off the chill of the morning.

The Duke of Thornbridge sat sprawled in a chair by the fire, pressing the fingers of one hand against his forehead. In his other hand, he held a crumpled piece of paper.

An older woman stood in front of him, coldly beautiful and immaculately dressed, her arms folded tight. They hadn’t noticed her yet.

Perhaps I could just sneak out again. I won’t die if I miss breakfast.

Alex and Mrs. Trench sat at the table, quietly eating their breakfast.

Alex perked up at the sight of Daphne. “Hello, Miss Belmont!”

Bother. Too late to escape, then.

The Duke and the older woman flinched when Alex spoke, their heads snapping around to look at Daphne.

The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she stalked towards Daphne. Daphne felt the urge to cower.

“So, this is the woman, then,” she spat. “You are pretty, but not nearly pretty enough to make up for what you’ve brought upon us.”

“B-Brought upon you?” Daphne stammered. “I don’t understand.”

The woman—the Dowager Duchess, no doubt—sneered. “Oh, I’m sure you understand perfectly. What you’ve brought upon us?—”

“Upon me,” the Duke interrupted, his voice low and rough.

The Dowager Duchess flinched, glancing uncertainly at him. “I… I beg your pardon, Edward?”

The Duke leaned forward, scowling. He did not look at Daphne.

“All of this, Clarissa, has been brought upon me . Me, my family, my title, my name. Whatever these scandal sheets say, it is I who will bear the consequences. Don’t forget your place.”

The Dowager Duchess flinched. “ My place ? May I remind you that I was married to your father, Edward!”

“But that does not make you my mother!” Edward shot back at once.

There was an awful silence after that.

Clarissa had gone pale, her lips almost disappearing into a thin line. The Duke seemed a little taken aback by his own words. Regretful, perhaps? He said nothing, though, and the awful moment dragged on and on.

Daphne wished she could sink through the floor. She wished she was anywhere but here. She briefly contemplated throwing herself out of the window. She could probably smash through the glass if she got a good run-up.

“Excuse me,” Clarissa said, her voice tight and shaking.

Without waiting for a response, she strode out of the room, knocking her shoulder against Daphne’s on the way.

Another silence followed, but this time, Daphne was ready for it.

“Something terrible has clearly happened,” she said, her voice a little too loud for the silence, “and I would appreciate it if somebody told me what’s going on.”

The Duke rose to his feet, glaring at her. “Don’t play the innocent, little goose with me,” he snarled. “This is all your doing.”

“ My doing ? What, exactly, have I done?”

He stared at her for a long moment. Daphne forced herself to meet his gaze squarely.

I’m not afraid of you, Sir. You can shout down all the others and bully your stepmother, but none of that will work with me.

He slammed down the crumpled bit of paper on the table.

“Read that,” he said shortly. “Then come to my study. At once, do you hear?”

Daphne opened her mouth to say that she was not in the habit of taking orders from anyone, least of all him, but he did not wait to hear her reply, storming out of the room at once.

There seemed little else to do but move over to the crumpled piece of paper. She was aware of both Alex and Mrs. Trench’s eyes on her.

She recognized the paper at once. It was a page from one of the most widely-read scandal sheets in London, The Watchful Chaperone. Heart sinking, Daphne began to read.

She Protected Her Sister But Could Not Protect Herself!

Dedicated Readers of The Watchful Chaperone will be appalled and thrilled to hear about the latest scandal. Once again, the Belmont name has appeared in our papers, alongside another infamous name.

Only yesterday, polite society was shocked by a display of wanton deceit and a runaway bride. Miss Emily Belmont, due to marry the illustrious Duke of Clapton, was replaced upon her wedding day by her very own twin sister, Miss Daphne Belmont. For what reasons, this author cannot say, but rest assured that she shall get to the bottom of this. The sharp-eyed Duke noticed the villainous swap at once, and Miss Daphne promptly bolted, leaving the poor gentleman at the altar.

But the story is not over yet. Miss Daphne Belmont fled the church and is said to have made a beeline to none other than the estate of the Duke of Thornbridge, a name familiar to long-time readers of these sheets. An infamous recluse, the Beastly Duke has kept his distance from Society for many years, giving rise to speculation about the Thornbridge curse, which may well target innocent female members of that family. A source close to the Duke himself confirmed that Miss Belmont did indeed spend the night—unchaperoned!—under the Duke’s roof. Scandalous, indeed!

However, speculation must naturally arise about why Miss Belmont went straight to the Duke’s estate. A coincidence? Hardly. The meeting was most clearly arranged ahead of time, and one must wonder whether Miss Belmont intended to marry the Duke of Clapton at all. Perhaps she had her sights firmly set on another prize. Or perhaps the Duke of Thornbridge has woven his dastardly magic on a naive and thoughtless young girl.

A fatal mistake, Miss Daphne Belmont! For now, you are a warning example held up to other errant ladies.

It is clear, of course, that Miss Daphne cannot return to Society until this matter is concluded. No doubt this is an irrevocable fall. One is inclined to remember the elder Miss Belmont, now the Duchess of Langdon, who was unfortunately jilted and left at the altar, and hastily contracted marriage with the Duke of Langdon, the elder brother of her groom-to-be. Could such unluckiness in marriage descend through a family? This author believes so.

And so, dearest readers, this author shall continue to investigate and will keep dedicated readers updated on the latest scandals and developments. Best of luck, Miss Belmont! You have our pity. Or is it the Beastly Duke we should feel sorry for?

Daphne crumpled the paper. She felt faintly sick. Glancing over at the table, she found Alex and Mrs. Trench staring at her.

“Have you read this?” she asked, directing her attention to Mrs. Trench.

The governess shook her head. “No, but I know what’s in it. Pay it no mind, Miss Belmont. Those gossip sheets are rags. Nobody should listen to them.”

Daphne bit her lower lip, hard. “But people do listen to them. Everybody does read them. Oh, bother. I’m in deeper trouble than I could have imagined.”

Mrs. Trench paused for a moment, then nodded sorrowfully. “I think perhaps you are. I’m sorry for all this, Miss Belmont.”

“But the Dowager Duchess was in the house all night, wasn’t she? Won’t that count for something?”

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s not quite good enough. My advice, Miss Belmont, is to go and talk it over with His Grace.”

Daphne wilted a little at that suggestion.

No wonder he was so furious. He thinks I was out to catch him, after all.

Still, she couldn’t put off the meeting for much longer. Sighing, Daphne tossed the paper into the fire and strode out of the room.

At least I know the way to the Duke’s study.