Page 33 of The Prince’s Wallflower Wife (The Wallflower Academy #4)

‘And this is what my father thinks of me, which is hard to hear, even though I almost certainly knew it already,’ Daphne said, ploughing on despite the evident pain the conversation was giving her. ‘And you wanted a dutiful, dull wife. What a disappointment I must be.’

Christoph swore again. ‘That is not—’

‘But thank goodness you found me palatable, eh?’ Daphne’s voice cracked again and a tear fell, and Christoph’s heart tightened. He wanted to kiss it away as he embraced her, but he could not move. ‘Otherwise you would have had to take a mistress!’

‘I would never have! Daphne, I chose you! You, as you are,’ Christoph said, his voice strong, hoping to show her through the strength of his words just how firmly he believed it. That he meant it.

His legs managed to stagger forward so that he was now standing on the other side of the desk, but it did not matter. Daphne was a long way away from him now.

‘And this—this, from Anton, your brother.’

‘You can ignore every vicious word of that letter. He knows only how to harm others,’ said Christoph tightly.

‘So I should ignore this bit, should I?’ Daphne returned her gaze to his brother’s letter. ‘“Sneaking out of the palace like a thief in the night to steal my bride”.’

She looked up and Christoph knew he should have been honest with her. But now it was too late. All too late.

‘I was supposed to marry him, wasn’t I?’ Daphne’s voice was naught but a whisper. ‘The older brother. That would have made me Queen—I can see why my father was so eager for it. You haven’t told him, have you, that you’re the younger? How long do you think you could wait until your lies emerged?’

She waited, the silence eking out between them in agonising shame.

Christoph swallowed, the noise surely audible.

Say something. Say something, man.

Yet what could he say? She was right. She had found out the truth. He had hidden one of the most important things from her and there was no excuse for it.

Why hadn’t he told her?

‘You’re not even the right brother,’ Daphne said quietly.

Christoph gritted his teeth. ‘It…it wasn’t like that. I couldn’t let you—’

‘Let me? Let me? ’ Now Daphne stepped past him, round the desk and to the other side of the library, her outrage too much to be penned in by the desk. ‘You did not even know me! How dare you say you would not let me?’

‘You would have been miserable with him, controlled.’

‘Lied to?’ Daphne said sharply.

It was a low blow, but one Christoph undoubtedly deserved. He swallowed, trying to gain his bearings, trying to work out a way to rectify this. His stomach was churning, and his pulse was far too quick, but he had nothing else to save. Not even his pride.

‘Look,’ he said urgently. ‘I did not want to stay in Niedernlein. The place was dangerous, miserable. His previous wife had died in mysterious circumstances. I knew what would happen to his next if she crossed him, and I was in a spot of bother.’

‘Christoph,’ Daphne said quietly.

‘I will never let anything happen to you, Daphne,’ he said swiftly, marching over to her, ignoring her gasp and bringing her into his arms, into his embrace. ‘Daphne, you have to believe me.’

‘I do.’

‘Because I would never—’

‘I don’t want to hear any more.’

‘I love you,’ Christoph said before he could stop himself.

The change was instant. Daphne’s face clouded, her whole body tensing, and she retreated into herself as he had seen her do whenever the world was too much, whenever she wanted to be alone or whenever she felt herself at risk of criticism.

Criticism? But all he had said was…

‘Do not say that,’ she muttered in a cracked voice.

Bewilderment rushed through Christoph’s chest. ‘Do not say that?’

‘Do not—do not say that,’ Daphne repeated, her gaze for some reason unwilling to meet his own. ‘Do not say it.’

‘That I love you?’ Christoph repeated, stepping forward with a hand reaching out to touch her.

‘You love me, but you lie to me,’ she said sharply. ‘You say you love me, but this whole time you have deceived me!’

Oh, hell. ‘It is not deceit, it is—’

‘What do you call this?’ Daphne thrust the letter forward, frustration and pain in her gaze. ‘How can I believe that you love me when the very start of this, the foundation of our marriage, is based on a lie?’

‘I love you, and I will keep on saying it.’ He needed to touch her, he needed to feel close to her, but much to his surprise his adoring wife did not reach out for him in turn but instead retreated. Retreated? From him?

‘I cannot… I do not want to hear… You mustn’t…’ Her words became tangled, the panic visible on her face.

And Christoph did not know what to do. True, he had never seriously thought he would ever fall in love. He had guarded against it, told himself again and again that this marriage would be naught but a show. But, now he felt it, how could he have done anything but tell her?

Daphne, however, looked distraught. Pain seared her cheeks and her hands twisted before her again, as they always did when she felt cornered. Difficult though it was, Christoph forced himself to take a step back. He was not going to encroach on his wife.

‘I have to go.’

‘Go?’ repeated Christoph blankly. ‘No—no, you can’t go. I—I’ve just told you I love you. You need to believe me when I say—’

‘I don’t have to do anything,’ said Daphne quietly. ‘And I can go anywhere I want.’

Desperation made him say it, not good sense. ‘I order you to stay here.’

His wife looked at him. Her brilliant blue eyes had filled with more tears and there was tension in her jaw. ‘And you say you’re nothing like your brother.’

Christoph’s pulse skipped a beat as ice flooded into him. ‘Look, I can explain—’

‘I’m going home,’ said Daphne, storming past him in a whirlwind of determination and agony.

‘Home?’ he repeated, unable to take in her words as he followed her out to the corridor. ‘What do you mean, home? We are home.’

‘My true home. The home I should never have left,’ Daphne said, somehow managing to walk quicker than him despite his height advantage. ‘The Wallflower Academy.’

Christoph halted in his steps, stunned, desperately trying to catch up. ‘The Wallflower Academy? But, Daphne, you can’t.’

‘I can do anything I want, I think you’ll find,’ Daphne snarled, a bitterness in her he had never seen before as she flung open the front door and slammed it behind her.

Christoph stood in the silent, empty hallway with her words ringing in his ears.

And you say you’re nothing like your brother.

It was a most unpleasant thought, but there was little he could do to argue against her unassailable logic.

He had acted like his brother. To very different ends, but did that justify his methods?

Here he was, his wife quite literally running away because she had no wish to be near him… and he thought he was not like Anton?

But he loved her. He loved her, and he had told her, and…it wasn’t enough.

How could he have lost love the instant he had realised it was within him?

Christoph swallowed. Despite all he had attempted, here he was, just like his father: his lover gone. Finally she had realised the truth: that she deserved far better, that her elegance and beauty far surpassed the life he could offer her.

She wanted better; she wanted more. And she knew he couldn’t offer her that.

And so she had gone.