Page 15 of His Runaway Duchess

He stared at her for a long, tense minute, then rolled his eyes.

“I can’t help noticing, Miss Belmont, that under those layers of mud, you’re wearing what appears to be a wedding dress.”

She winced. “You’re very sharp, Your Grace. Astonishingly so.”

He shot her another sideways glance. “I cannot decide whether you’re mocking me or flattering me.”

“Which would make you more likely to let me stay the night?”

“I don’t know what happened to your husband-to-be,” he continued, ignoring her question, “but I can’t help but feel that he had a lucky escape.”

Daphne bit her lip. “Let’s just say thatbothof us had a lucky escape and leave it at that. Look, Your Grace, I’m sure womenhavetried to catch you before with all sorts of tricks. I’ve been in Society—I’veseenit. But believe me when I say that I am not trying to catch you. Really, I am not. I just… just nearly married somebody, and it terrified me. I could scarcely breathe at the altar. I shan’t bore you with the details, since I imagine you’ll read about it all in the gossip columns tomorrow. But, truly, if I was coming to ruin you, would I come to you looking likethis?”

She held her arms out to either side so that the full horror of her filthy, ragged self could be appreciated. Daphne had not looked in a mirror lately, but she thought that was probably just as well. No doubt she looked like a raving madwoman, dragged through several hedges and a pond, then left out in the rain for a week or two.

The Duke’s gaze traveled over her frame from head to foot. Daphne’s skin seemed to prickle as he looked her over—a curious and unfamiliar sensation. She wasn’t sure whether she liked it or not. It was, however, notably different from the pin-prick sensation she’d felt at the church when everyone was staring at her.

At last, he let out a long, exhausted sigh.

“You’ll catch your death out here tonight. The woods get deathly cold, even at this time of year. And then I would be blamed for your death, and that would be tiresome. You had better stay.”

Daphne’s knees nearly buckled with relief. “Oh, thank?—”

“Save your thanks. I am not doing it as a favor to you, but because Iama gentleman, regardless of what you have to say about it.”

Daphne flushed. “Perhaps I was a little ungracious.”

He grunted. “Follow me.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and began to stride down the hill, faster than ever. She was forced to almost run to keep up.

Down on the terrace below, most of the servants had gone in, except for a handful.

“You won’t be staying under my roof without a proper female presence,” the Duke said, without turning around. “My stepmother will stay the night. I expect you to be gone before breakfast.”

“B-Before breakfast? Could I not have a little…?”

He sighed heavily. “After breakfast, then. But directly after! I don’t wish to see you.”

“Understood.”

They reached the patio. A tall, thin man with a mop of whitish hair stood there, his eyes nearly popping out of his head at the sight of Daphne.

“Your… Grace?” he ventured timidly. “Who…?”

“This is Miss Belmont, she’ll be staying the night,” the Duke rapped out. “Send wordimmediatelyto the Dowager Duchess that she must stay the night, too. I shall explain everything once she gets here, but let her know that it’s of the utmost urgency. Put Miss Belmont in one of the bedrooms, as far away from my wing as possible. She’ll require food, tea, a bath, and some fresh clothes.”

“Very good, Your Grace.” The man bowed, eyeing Daphne out of the corner of his eye, then turned and scuttled inside.

For a moment, Daphne dithered on the doorstep, until the Duke shot her an annoyed look.

“Well, don’t dawdle, Miss Belmont! Go with him!”

She gave a most undignified squeak and scurried after the steward.

Edward’s headache was pounding merrily behind his eyes when a knock sounded at his study door.

“Enter.”

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