Page 67 of His Runaway Duchess

Daphne felt as though she’d heard quite enough, so she stormed past him and back along the pathway.

“I’m going for a ride,” she called over her shoulder, not looking back. “If you’d like to discuss this further, feel free to join me.”

He said nothing, and soon Daphne had left him far behind.

She had gone a little way out of the stables, trotting up the hill towards the folly where she had first met Alex, when the sound of hoofbeats echoed behind her.

Heart clenching in hope, she twisted around in the saddle.

Her hopes were immediately dashed. Her heart sank, and then she felt guilty for reacting in that way. Because it was Alex, his little face beaming, bouncing up in the saddle and riding towards her. He was followed at a distance by an elderly groom, puffing up the hill after him.

“Joan told me you were going out for a ride with Papa,” Alex explained, pulling alongside her. “I thought I would come with you. That’s all right, isn’t it?”

She smiled down at him. “Of course it is, Alex.”

He paused, glancing around. “Where’s Papa?”

“He’s not coming, I’m afraid. But perhaps he’ll join us another time.”

Alex seemed crestfallen. “I hope so. I didn’t see very much of Papa yesterday. Did he enjoy himself, do you think? Mrs. Trench said that on their wedding day, a bride and groom find themselves very busy and might not enjoy themselves too much. It seems unfair that Papa would not have a good time.”

“I’m sure he managed quite well, Alex. Itwasa busy day, but it’s over now, so we can take a breath and concentrate on the life ahead of us. What about you, Alex? Did you enjoy the wedding?”

Judging by the way Alex’s face lit up, he had enjoyed himself a great deal. He broke into chatter, talking about who he’d talked to, which ladies he had danced with—turned out he was quite popular, and something of a darling amongst the women—and what he had eaten.

A great deal of most things, it seemed.

“I fell asleep directly when I finally went up to bed,” Alex said, sighing in satisfaction. “Mrs. Trench said she’ll talk to Papa again about getting a dancing master for me. She said that perhaps you might want to talk to him about it, too, what with you being the Duchess and all.”

“I’ll do what I can, Alex, but I’m afraid that would go against the rules.”

Alex frowned. “Rules?”

Daphne cursed herself for being so careless. How could she explain to the child that she was notreallyhis father’s wife?

“Well, I’ve only just now joined your family,” she explained, “so your papa doesn’t want your stepmother to take over your upbringing… yet. He wants to raise you himself, you see?”

Alex did not seem happy with this. “You don’t seem like a stepmother,” he muttered. “I like you a great deal, Daffie.”

She reached out, taking his hand. It was a stretch, what with them both being on horseback, but she managed it.

“And I like you too, Alex. You mustn’t think otherwise. I’m thrilled to be your mama, and I hope now that we can all be a family. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Alex’s taut, little face relaxed into a smile. “Yes, I’d like that.”

By this point, they had reached the top of the hill, the folly just a little way along the ridge. They stopped, their horses standing shoulder to shoulder, and took in the view. The poor groom was still puffing below, at least halfway down the hill.

“That was where I first met you, do you remember?” Alex said, pointing to the folly.

Daphne smiled to herself. “Yes, I remember. It feels so long ago, doesn’t it?”

“I’m glad you stayed,” Alex admitted. “I like you being here, Daffie. You make the house happy.”

She bit her lip, a lump forming in her throat.

Just say it, Daphne. Just say that you’re glad you stayed, too.

Would it be a lie?

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