Page 5 of His Runaway Duchess

As always, Daphne knew exactly what her twin was thinking, and exactly what she needed to do.

The Duke’s mouth closed with a snap, his eyes flicking between the twins. Daphne didn’t need to see his face to understand the emotions fluttering over his face. Anger, confusion, frustration.

Privately, Daphne thought he was an idiot not to understand. What man could not grasp thatblackmailinga woman would not make for a willing bride? Whatever the man’s reasons for blackmailing Emily—and they would never be good enough, in Daphne’s eyes—he was clearly too stupid to secure a wife in an ordinary way.

Or so Daphne thought. She believed this was a fairly accurate assessment of the man standing beside her at the altar.

“No,” Emily whispered. “This is enough.”

“Emmie…”

“I can’t. You can’t.”

“I can’t breathe, Emily.”

“I know. I know, dearest. But you have to run. Run!”

Daphne dropped her bouquet and ran.

CHAPTER 2

The world shot by in a chaotic gasp. Daphne was aware of strangely disconnected things—the yelps of surprise and outrage from the audience, her mother sobbing, Anna shouting her nameat the top of her lungs. She also heard the rector cry out, “Somebody stop that girl!” probably out of shock.

And then, to her bewilderment, she heard the man she had almost married speak up, drowning out the rector.

“Let her go if she wishes.”

And then Daphne was out of the church, and the air was so fresh and clean that she wanted to laugh or cry or sing or do it all at once.

She couldn’t, of course, on account of having her escape to effect first of all.

Skidding to a halt in the courtyard, Daphne glanced this way and that, panting for breath.

I’m not going to have to marry him,she kept thinking, over and over again.I’m free. I’m free.

Emily might not be entirely free, not yet, but one thing is clear—there’ll be no wedding happening today.

I’ve bought us time, at the very least.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle, plastering her veil to her face. Suddenly furious, Daphne tore the wretched thing off. It floated to the ground beside her and was immediately absorbed into a large, muddy puddle.

And then she saw what she was looking for—a lone horse, not hitched up to a cart or carriage. It was a plain brown mare, with a well-polished saddle, tied to a railing and left to stand in the rain by a thoughtless owner.

Hiking up her skirts, Daphne hurried towards it. The horse watched her approach with disinterest. It was saddled up and ready to go, and she hauled herself neatly onto its back without the need for a mounting block.

It’s been ages since I had a proper horse ride,she thought, swinging her other leg over the saddle. It was not, of course, a lady’s saddle. Daphne knew how to ride side-saddle, naturally. Emily always rode side-saddle, very demurely.

Daphne could not stand it. It was uncomfortable, she would feel unbalanced, and she couldn’t go nearly as fast as she would like.

Octavia had given up trying to convince her otherwise.

People were beginning to filter out of the church, talking loudly amongst themselves, clearly reeling from what they had just witnessed.

A runaway bride! How exciting. One of them pointed in Daphne’s direction. Biting back a curse she’d overheard from one of the grooms and had been dying to use ever since, she kicked her heels against the horse’s flanks and they took off.

The horse must have had a good deal of pent-up energy because it shot forward, the scenery flashing past in a blur. The church was left behind in a trice. She tried, and failed, to guide the horse onto the road, but it tugged its head free and plunged into the forest.

Yelping, Daphne bent forward over the horse’s neck to avoid being whipped in the face by branches as they shot by. She tore off her spectacles, and the world surged back into focus. She had meant to hold onto them, to return them to Emily as soon as she could, but the horse suddenly leaped over a fallen tree, and the spectacles flew out of her hands and fell somewhere in the undergrowth. Lost, of course.

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