Page 2 of His Runaway Duchess

“It’s not too late,” she announced. “It’s never too late. I’m not going to let you do this, Emily.”

Emily blinked up at her, baffled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you won’t be able to bear it, being married to him. I, on the other hand, can handle anything.”

Daphne placed her hands on her hips and tilted up her chin, a little impressed by her own heroism. Of course, it made perfect sense. She would take Emily’s place, and nobody would know the difference.Shecould manage it.

I can save her.

Daphne’s heroic self-image was neatly shattered when Emily sighed and slumped back on the bed.

“Don’t be silly, Daff.”

“I’m not being silly,” Daphne shot back, piqued. “Look!”

She snatched up Emily’s spectacles, round and wire-rimmed, and shoved them onto her face. The world blurred with the spectacles on, making her eyes sting right away, but that hardly mattered.

Emily propped herself up on her elbows. “What are you trying to prove, Daphne? It’s not that I think youcan’timpersonate me. It’s more that youshouldn’t. Why should you have to marry the Duke?”

Daphne shrugged. “I’d like to be a duchess. Besides, I’m too shocking to make a good match among the ton. Remember how old Lady Silversmith fainted when she saw me riding like a man? And none of the Greens will speak to me after?—”

“Enough, Daphne,” Emily interrupted. “I can’t let you do this.”

Daphne crouched down before her sister, taking both of her hands in her own. “And I can’t letyoudothis. It’ll kill you, marrying a man you don’t love. Look at how you’ve wasted away over the past month. Everybody is concerned. Anna corners meevery other day and demands to know what’s going on. Mama cries herself to sleep with worry. It’s not just you who will suffer from this. And how will I ever forgive myself?”

Emily bit her lip, turning away.

Even through those awful, blurry spectacles, Daphne could tell that Emily was fighting back tears.

“I’m so afraid,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to do, Daff.”

“But I do,” Daphne said, firmly. “I can do this.”

“What if you can’t? It’s one thing to talk about this sort of thing here, safe in our room, but what about when it’s real? What about when it’s really happening?”

“He’ll never know the difference,” Daphne assured her. “We must hurry, though. I need to put your dress on, and you’ll have to wear mine.”

“Very well,” Emily said, at last, suddenly decided. “Unlace me, quickly.”

The girls dressed in silence. Emily’s wedding gown felt strange on Daphne, even though they’d shared clothes since they were babies. There wasn’t much to be done about Daphne’s simply dressed hair, but fortunately, the veil hid most of it. As a finaltouch, she pushed the spectacles onto her nose and turned to face Emily.

“How do I look?” she said.

There was no time to answer, because at that moment, footsteps echoed in the hallway outside, and the girls barely had time to face the door before it flew open.

Octavia Belmont, the Dowager Viscountess St. Maur, stood there. Redoubtable, handsome, and more than a little terrifying. Privately, Daphne thought that Anna was growing more like their mother with each passing day.

Octavia glanced between the two of them, her eyes narrowed. For a moment, Daphne thought that they had succeeded and had fooled even their mother.

But then Octavia heaved a sigh and spoke. “What are you girls playing at? Daphne, why are you wearing your sister’s clothes?”

The twins deflated.

Emily glanced at Daphne, her eyes wide and unfocused without her spectacles. Drawing in a breath, Daphne took a step towards her mother.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mama. I am on my way to get married, aren’t I?”

Confusion streaked across Octavia’s features. “Daphne, what?—”

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