Page 20 of His Runaway Duchess

Daphne was gawping like a fool. The Duke looked like… well, he looked the way she might imagine some of those suave, handsome heroes in the novels that Emily tried to keep hidden from the rest of them. A faint fuzz of black hair peeked from his half-open shirt, and she could not stop imagining how his skin might feel. Warm, yes, and smooth. Would his skin twitch under her touch, like a horse’s hide? Would she feel his heart beating against her palm if she placed her hand just right?

Stop it! You’ve known the man for no more than a minute!

Besides, you’re here on an important errand.

Daphne cleared her throat, tilting up her chin. “I am sorry to bother you, Your Grace, but I?—”

“How did you find me? Did someone direct you to my study?”

There was an edge to his voice that indicated that any servant who had sent her his way might find themselves in trouble.

Daphne bit her lip. “It took me a while, but yours is the only occupied room downstairs. I saw the light under your door, and guessed.”

“Hmm. Go on.”

“Well, I daresay it’s none of my business, but it’s about Alex. Master Alexander, I mean.” The Duke’s face tightened, and Daphne continued quickly before she lost her nerve. “He’s upset. I think you should go and talk to him, for what it’s worth. He loves you dearly, and you didn’t even come to see him tonight, although you’d promised that you would. He came to see me—which perhaps he shouldn’t have done, but he’s only eight, and he wanted to say goodnight, so I’m sure there’s no harm in it—and I know how upset he is, and it really isn’t fair. I think you care for him, Your Grace. I truly do. So I thought I must come and talk to you, frankly. He thinks you don’t care for him!”

The Duke only stared at her for a long moment. After this little speech, Daphne found herself out of breath. She longed to speak, to fill the silence—she had always hated lengthy pauses—but she forced herself to be quiet and wait.

“Perhaps I don’t care for him,” the Duke responded. “Perhaps keeping my distance from him is the only way to protect him. Men of my standing often don’t consider or care for their children at all. What do you think of that?”

She clenched her jaw. “I think that it’s not true, Your Grace.”

He rose to his feet, his broad shoulders seeming to fill the room. “Then you are very naive, Miss Belmont. Naive and sheltered.”

She bristled. “I am not naive. Neither am I sheltered. If you only knew what my family has gone through…”

“I do hope you’re not here to tell me all about it tonight.”

She wilted. “No, of course not.”

“Good. Then let me tell you this, Miss Belmont. You are right.”

She blinked. “I’m… right?”

“Yes. You are right. Thisisnone of your concern. In the future, I would suggest that you do not take it upon yourself to poke your nose into the families of others?—”

“I…”

“—especially when you are a guest. You do not know me, and you don’t know Alex. So, I would argue that you have nothing to add to this conversation. I daresay that this is not what you wanted to hear, Miss Belmont, but there it is.”

Daphne opened her mouth to say something else. In a flash, the Duke had crossed the room and cupped his palm over her mouth. Not hard, of course. It was barely a feather-light touch. But it was enough to make Daphne almost choke on her words.

She stared up at him, her eyes wide. He was close enough that their noses were almost brushing, and he leaned down to look into her eyes.

For the first time, Daphne noticed that the man had a peculiar scent. Crushed grass, perhaps? Earth turned over after rain? Whatever it was, it was peculiar, and Daphne had to fight not to breathe in deeply.

Abruptly, he withdrew his hand. Callused fingers brushed the underside of her chin—such a quick and subtle gesture that she thought she might have imagined it.

“That’s quite enough, Miss Belmont,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “I am not a man of many words, and hearing too many gives me a headache. I’m not accustomed to repeating myself over and over, so I shall say this one more time. Do not involve yourself in my family. You will leave quietly, tomorrow, and that is that.” He straightened up, his piercing gaze fixed on her.

He had blue eyes, Daphne noticed suddenly, the same shade as Alex’s.

“Go to bed, Miss Belmont.”

There was really nothing else to do but obey.

Daphne stormed to the landing, her skirts swishing, muttering angrily to herself under her breath. She did not notice a small boy darting behind a curtain as she approached, staying motionless and silent as she passed by.

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