Page 20 of The Prince’s Wallflower Wife (The Wallflower Academy #4)

‘A ces are high, man!’

‘Yes, of course, my apologies,’ said Christoph hastily, picking up the card he had just laid down and returning it to his hand.

Then he made the mistake of glancing up.

Daphne was seated opposite him—it had been her request, when they had entered the card party almost an hour ago, that he not part from her.

It was not a very difficult request to grant.

He wanted her by his side at all times. So, when they had sat down at the whist table and she had muttered the rules under her breath, Christoph had felt confident.

It was much like a game that was played in Niedernlein, after all, and he had been proficient at cards for at least a decade.

Not that that mattered, with Daphne opposite him.

‘Pay attention, can’t you?’ Percy Devereux, Duke of Knaresby, shook his head as he grinned. ‘Can’t think what’s distracting you.’

Christoph ensured his face remained entirely passive as he shrugged nonchalantly, as though none of this mattered; as though he wasn’t mortified by continually getting this wrong.

‘It is different from the game we play at Niedernlein. I can assure you, if we were in the Winter Palace, I would be trouncing you all by now.’

‘Now, that I can believe,’ Sylvia, Duchess of Camrose, said with a laugh as she settled her hand of cards on her swelling stomach. ‘Daphne, I believe it is your turn.’

Excellent. A ready-made excuse to look up at his wife.

Christoph’s stomach lurched as he watched the little frown puckering between Daphne’s sky-blue eyes. The concentration was intoxicating—to a lesser man, that was, he thought as he hurriedly looked away. To a man who cared for her. Not himself. Obviously.

‘Very well,’ Daphne said quietly, placing down a card.

Both Percy and Sylvia groaned.

‘How are you this good at cards?’ Sylvia said with a dramatic sigh, though she winked at Daphne, who smiled.

Christoph’s heart skipped a beat. He had rarely managed to elicit such a smile from his wife. It was soft and small, but it was heartfelt. He had managed it, what, twice, perhaps? Sylvia had done so three times in the last hour.

‘When you spend a great deal of time alone, it is inevitable, I think, that you become sufficiently good at cards,’ Daphne said, cheeks pinking as she spoke.

His jaw tightened.

When you spend a great deal of time alone. There was so much about Daphne under the surface, wasn’t there? So much he had not yet discovered—but he had discovered that she had led a very solitary life. One that made her shy. A life with cruelty near its beginning which had made her censure herself.

Whenever I spoke my mind, I was punished. Those were inside thoughts. Thoughts never to be spoken.

‘Careful, there, you’ll rip them in half!’

Christoph blinked. Percy had reached out a hand to jerk his cards away—not to view them, it seemed, but because he had been gripping them so tightly that there was a good chance he might destroy them.

‘Ah,’ he said weakly. ‘My apologies. I am concentrating very hard.’

‘And yet making more mistakes than the rest of us combined,’ Percy said with a laugh. ‘I don’t know, Daphne. You’ll have to take this man of yours in hand!’

He chuckled, and Sylvia joined him. Christoph tried to smile as he watched the burning scarlet he knew so well creep up Daphne’s neck. A neck he had kissed. A neck he had tasted, and wanted to taste again… Probably best not to think about that at a card party.

‘Well, I have to say, I will be sorry to enter my confinement,’ Sylvia was saying. ‘I told Teddy we simply had to throw one last party, force everyone to come to us, before I disappear from Society.’

‘You’ll never truly disappear, I think,’ snorted Percy. ‘Gwen was telling me the most ridiculous tale of when you…’

The story continued. At least, Christoph was almost certain it did.

He could not tell, not with his gaze getting distracted by Daphne again.

This time it was her fingers. She was shuffling her hand very slowly, almost as though she was not thinking about it.

He gazed at the gentle shifting patterns of her fingers, soft and supple, the way her fingertips caressed the corners of the cards…

Christoph shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Not that he was thinking of those fingers caressing something else.

Most definitely not. When he forced his attention away from her fingers, he was surprised to meet her eyes.

Throat firmly knotted, Christoph hurriedly tried to rearrange his facial features into something normal.

What was normal? How did he normally smile? Was it like this—with so many teeth?

Daphne smiled, her cheeks pinking as she looked swiftly at her cards.

It shouldn’t matter this much, Christoph tried to tell himself as Percy and Sylvia bickered good-naturedly about whether or not her card play was permissible. A smile from his wife should not heat his loins, make his spine tingle and grit his jaw. And yet it did.

‘They will keep bickering until we break it up, you know.’

Daphne’s words were quiet, low, creeping under the growing debate of the other two at the card table.

Christoph could not help but smile. ‘I… I suppose so.’

‘And you have been playing quite…well…poorly,’ said Daphne, evidently embarrassed at having to point out his shortcomings. ‘Do you not understand the game? Would you like me to explain it to you again?’

Heat blossomed across Christoph’s chest at the thought. It was tempting to take Daphne to a quiet corner, just the two of them, and have her explain something to him in soft tones, growing closer and closer so he could hear her over the chatter of the card party…

Damn it, why was he continually being distracted by this woman?

‘No, I thank you,’ he said stiffly. ‘I understand perfectly.’

There was a teasing look in Daphne’s eye, just for a moment. And then it was gone.

An inside thought. Christoph was starting to spot the signs, though he could not always persuade this wife of his to spill her thoughts. It was starting to become a diverting challenge, though of course he never forced her. He would never force Daphne to do anything.

Still, a little prompting never hurt. ‘What was that inside thought?’

Daphne’s colour heightened but she met his gaze, unfaltering, as she said more in a breath than a whisper, ‘I… I was thinking, if you understood perfectly, you would not be losing.’

Christoph chuckled. He couldn’t help it. ‘Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I am distracted.’

No, this was dangerous. This was flirting, and that was absolutely not part of the plan. He could not flirt with his wife—the very idea!

He had to remain aloof. He had to. Loving Daphne, loving any woman as his father had loved, brought nothing but pain.

It would destroy him. The loss of that love, the loss of Daphne—and he would lose her, inevitably; he would do something wrong, he’d hurt her—would transform him into a cruel man, a cold man. He had to keep her at a distance.

Easier said than done.

Daphne swallowed, then said softly, ‘I can’t imagine what you could be distracted by.’

Somehow his throat was dry, his voice hoarse. ‘Can’t you?’

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to be giddy, and his mind wasn’t supposed to wander back to Daphne at all times. He wasn’t supposed to be so preoccupied at a game of cards.

And there she sat, glowing in the knowledge that she was teasing him, and he could do nothing about it. Christoph wanted it. Wanted more.

‘You are such a charmer.’

His gaze focused. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You. You charm people everywhere you go,’ she said softly. ‘I do not even think you notice you’re doing it.’

‘Oh, no, I am sure—’

His wife cut across his bluster. ‘It is one of the things I like best about you.’

Christoph’s throat became even dryer, if that were possible. How was it possible that she could do this to him—and in public too? ‘Are you flirting with me, Daphne?’

She was! Her face was flushed—she was clearly unaccustomed to being so forward, so aware of her own sensuality—and yet she was doing it.

Dear God, she was magnificent.

‘Perhaps,’ came her quiet reply. ‘You bring it out of me, Christoph.’

His stomach lurched. This woman…

A poor excuse for a woman. An illegitimate child of a lord that no one in Society even knows about? If it wasn’t for her wealth, I wouldn’t even consider her. Dull, I would imagine.

Anton’s assessment of the Miss Daphne Smith about whom her father had written to him resounded in Christoph’s head. His hands clenched into fists, the automatic response to any thought of Anton overriding his good manners. He caught the movement swiftly and forced his hands to calm.

It did not prevent the thought from echoing in his mind.

Dull, I would imagine.

God, his brother had been wrong. How wrong, Christoph had not realised perhaps until this moment.

Daphne was beautiful, yes, but there was more to her, so much more.

Money could perhaps have been gained another way.

Christoph had married her to protect her—that was what he had told himself. The money was convenient.

But now, sitting here…

‘Come on, then, why aren’t we playing?’ Sylvia said with a grin.

Christoph opened his mouth to reply—but Daphne was quicker.

‘Because you two keep arguing,’ said his wife with a docile smile that belied the mischief in her words.

Sylvia’s eyes widened in shock and Percy laughed. ‘You know, it does me good to hear you speak so, Princess Daphne. You have worked wonders, Your Highness.’

‘Christoph, please,’ Christoph said hastily, trying to keep his voice level.

Daphne was smiling in a flushed, surprised way, as though she had not expected to say such things and gain such praise.

Christoph was still attempting to unpick the complex knot that was Daphne Smith—Daphne von Auberheiser—and he rather thought it would be the challenge of a lifetime. A lifetime he now had.