Page 31 of His Runaway Duchess

The two Dukes aren’t going to be best friends, then.

Daphne smothered a laugh. It was a little hysterical, and she was forced to press her hand to her mouth to contain herself.

The Duke shot her a quick, questioning glance but said nothing. He turned back to Octavia instead.

“You can take this room as a family parlor. I’m not a particularly good host, and I haven’t had guests in a long time. Make yourselves at home. I imagine you’ll meet my son sooner or later. I’ll speak to you more about the wedding plans once the application for the special license is sent off.”

Octavia nodded slowly. “I know how to organize a wedding.”

“I don’t intend to have much of one. I hope you understand, but this is not a happy occasion for me. A quick ceremony is all I require.”

Daphne glanced up at her mother, who seemed displeased.

At last, Octavia sighed and nodded. “Very well then.”

“Good.” The Duke gave a brisk nod and turned towards the door. “I’ll leave you all to catch up and settle in. Let’s just concentrate on not allowing anything to go wrong, shall we? Dinner is served at seven o’clock. Sharp.”

CHAPTER 9

“You don’t like him, do you?”

Daphne glanced up at her sister, silhouetted against the window.

Do I like him? Do I likehim? Well, of course not. He’s brusque and vexing and clearly thinks that Iam vexatious.

She swallowed hard, trying her best not to remember the feel of his lips against hers, his fingertips sliding down the sensitive skin of her neck. She firmly forgot about the answering pull of desire low in her gut, thewantingthat had crawled up from deep inside her.

“The Duke of Thornbridge? No, of course not,” she answered briskly. “Are you going to help me unpack?”

The afternoon was wearing on, and it would soon be time for the Duke’sseven o’clock sharpsuppertime. Servants had beendispatched to fetch suitcases and boxes and had duly returned. Daphne was to stay in the same room she’d stayed in last night. She had assumed Emily would stay with her, but no. Emily had a different room. They were in Emily’s room at that moment, the boxes half unpacked, things strewn everywhere.

Conversation had crawled after the Duke left. Nobody seemed to have much to say.

Perhaps we’re all in shock.

Emily turned away from the window, sighing. “You don’t have to worry about unpacking my things, Daff. You should be… should be…”

“Should be what? Planning my wedding? No, thank you.”

Emily bit her lip, looking distraught. “Do you truly hate him, Daff?”

Daphne sighed. “I don’thatehim. He’s notugly, and I don’t think he’s cruel. We’ve already agreed to leave each other alone.”

Emily blinked. “You talked to him about it?”

Daphne shrugged, perching on the edge of the bed. She picked up a strip of ribbon, rolling it over and over in her hands until it was a long, thin tube.

“He’ll leave me alone, and I will leave him alone. I’ve already met his son. He’s a sweet, little boy—you’ll like him.”

“You… You know who heis, don’t you?” Emily whispered, leaning forward. “The Duke of Thornbridge, that is.”

Daphne frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“He was married before. ToBeatrice’solder sister, Jane.”

Daphne sucked in a breath, recalling seeing Beatrice curled up on the edge of Anna’s bed, sobbing her heart out, and Anna trying her best to soothe and console her.

“I remember it vaguely,” she admitted. “But we were young when she died. We didn’t know her, did we?”

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