Page 1 of His Runaway Duchess

CHAPTER 1

Daphne rested her forehead against the cool glass, tracking individual droplets racing each other down the window.

The rain was coming down heavier than ever, sleeting down the windowpane in a gray veil. Outside, the London streets were slick with water, puddles growing out of the gutters and spreading across the roads.

If the one on the left reaches the bottom before the one on the right, everything will be all right. Emily and I will pack our things and run. I will say something to Mama, tell her the truth, and she will stop all of this.

The right-hand droplet won.

“It’s bad luck, you know,” Emily said, her voice flat and cold. “Rain on one’s wedding day. It’s bad luck. Like leaving the house with your left foot first.”

Daphne twisted around to look at her twin, slumped over on her dressing table.

“You aren’t superstitious, Emily. And you’re left-handed. You do everything with your left foot or hand first.”

“Telling, isn’t it?” Emily lifted her head from the dresser. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, but the tears had stopped. For now, at least. Her spectacles were gone, carefully folded and left on the edge of the dressing table.

Without her spectacles, the two of them looked more alike than ever.

Not today, of course. Emily was trussed up in her wedding finery, drowning in acres of ice-blue satin. A translucent lace veil was wrapped around her elaborate hairstyle and hung down around her head and shoulders, threatening to choke her.

Daphne was suitably inferior today, as befitted a bridesmaid. Her gown was a simple one, the same green as her eyes, with a demure, little posy of flowers to carry.

“You don’t have to do this,” Daphne said after the pause had grown too painful. “Nobody understands why. If I could just tell Mama, or at least Anna, then?—”

“No,” Emily interrupted, shaking her head. “Nobody knows about my secret, and if it came out, I would be ruined. Don’t underestimate him, Daff. He was very clear. I marry him, or hetells everybody and I am ruined. Mama and Anna knowing about it won’t change a thing.”

“But perhaps?—”

“Stop it, Daphne,” Emily burst out, jumping to her feet. She paced up and down the room, hobbled by the stiff, uncomfortable bridal shoes she was wearing. At last, she gave up pacing and threw herself down on the edge of the bed with a cry of frustration. “Oh, Daff, I’m sorry. I can’t do this. But I must do it. How could I have been so foolish?”

“It isn’t your fault,” Daphne insisted, lowering herself to sit beside her sister. “It’s allhisfault for blackmailing you. I’m quite sure that Anna and Theodore could do something about it. He’s a duke, after all, and they’re so terribly rich.”

Which, of course, was why Anna had been so baffled at her younger sister’s inexplicable choice of husband.

“You areone-and-twenty, Emily!” Anna had said, on more than one occasion. “We aren’t poor and vulnerable anymore. You don’t have to marry simply for convenience. And frankly, I do not like your choice of husband. Won’t you reconsider?”

Emily would not reconsider. Daphne, who knew the full story of why her sister would not—and could not—change her mind, stayed silent.

The guilt gnawed at the edges of her mind.

There were a great many things they did not know, not least of all why the infamous Duke of Clapton would be so happy to exchange his silence for a bride, but frankly, Daphne did not care. The man had no right to force her sweet, sensitive sister into a marriage that she did not want.

“You always wanted to marry for love,” Daphne murmured aloud. Emily said nothing, only placing her hand over her sister’s. “Everybody thought that I would be the sentimental, romantic one, desperate to marry for love.”

Emily snorted. “You were, and are, an absolute hellion, Daff. We all thought you’d marry early because you were always ogling men. I think Mama nearly fell over in shock when you announced your intention never to marry.”

“Well, one must admire the scenery, yes?”

Emily chuckled at that, bumping her shoulder against Daphne’s. The twins leaned together, silence falling over them like a comforting blanket. Reflected in the dresser, they looked more different than ever. Emily’s ice-blue dress seemed to drain the color from her face, and her dark hair was hidden under the disheveled veil. Her eyes were like chips of blue ice, whereas Daphne’s were a sharp green.

“I don’t know what I will do,” Emily murmured. “I wish I had been more sensible. Like Anna, you know? Anna was ready to marry a man for convenience, simply to save us and Mama from that awful creditor of Papa’s. Shedidmarry him. I suppose she was lucky that she and Theodore fell in love. I’d like to hopethat the Duke and I would fall in love. He’s handsome enough, I suppose, and he’s never been cruel. To me, at least.” She plucked at her voluminous skirts. “He bought me this. It must have cost a fortune.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Daphne snapped. “He blackmailed you. Why can’t he marry some brainless debutante who doesn’t know any better? Why can’t he leave you alone?”

Emily squeezed her eyes shut. “Do you think I haven’t asked myself these questions over and over again? I’d ask him if I wasn’t so afraid of him. It’s no use, Daphne. We aren’t going to get any answers. At least, not until it’s too late.” She breathed out slowly. “It’s already too late.”

Daphne clenched her fists. Abruptly, she leaped up and turned to face her twin.

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