Page 71 of His Runaway Duchess

Clarissa glided towards him. “Edward, Daphne has gone running upstairs. She seemed upset,” she murmured. “Shall I go after her?”

He sighed. “Do whatever you like, Clarissa. The Duchess will be called down once the doctor arrives.”

Clarissa nodded silently and left the room.

Daphne pressed a hand over her mouth in the hopes of holding back the tears. It did not seem to be working, and hot rivulets trailed over her fingers, dripping off the edge of her chin.

How could I have been so stupid? He blames me. Of course, he does. Well, I think it is my fault.

Oh, I am so very, very stupid.

It was no good.

When she hurried away from the parlor where Alex was being laid out, her first impulse was to run upstairs to her room. It occurred to her at the last minute that that was childish, that she was no longer in her parents’ house, where only one room was hers.

Besides, the library was closer.

She let herself in, sucking in mouthfuls of cool, stale air, and tried to force back tears.

How could she have been so foolish? What grown woman challenged a small boy like Alex to a race? Oh, she was lucky he wasn’t in a worse state. It could have been worse. Itmightstill be worse.

She lowered herself shakily onto a lower sofa, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and tried to breathe calmly. She half expected Edward to follow her, to shout at her and berate her for her foolishness.

Oh yes, what a good start, Duchess.

She sagged backward, lying on her back on the sofa.

The library ceiling was high above her, engraved and molded and very pretty, although it was probably thick with dust—not even the longest dusters would reach that high—and never seen by anybody. People tended not to bother looking up, after all.

She flinched when the door opened, half afraid that it would be Edward, and even more afraid that it wouldnotbe Edward.

It was not Edward.

Lady Clarissa stood in the doorway, smiling sympathetically down at her.

“Are you all right? Poor thing.” She clucked. “It must have been such a shock for you.”

Daphne gulped audibly. “Truth be told, I… I thought he was dead. He lay so still and quiet. I once heard of a man being crushed by his horse after a failed jump like that, and Alex is so small and fragile. I’m still shaking.”

Clarissa stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She didn’t move to sit next to Daphne, instead choosing to stand and look down at her, her lips pursed.

“It was an accident,” she said, as if passing judgment. “Edward is… well, he’s rather angry right now, but he’ll understand well enough. It wasn’t your fault.”

Daphne pushed herself up on her elbows, wincing.

“Well, whose fault was it? Nobody else can be blamed but me. I’m a fool, Clarissa.”

“You’re a young woman who has no experience with children,” Clarissa answered firmly. “Alex is old enough to understand the wordno, and as I understand, you told him not to jump.”

Daphne sighed. “I did. Of course, I did. But children don’t listen to what they’re told. Especially not eight-year-old boys. I was taking care of him, and he was my responsibility. I am to blame.”

Clarissa took a long moment before responding. At last, she sighed and came to sit beside Daphne, prompting her to haul herself into a sharp sitting position.

“He can be harsh, can’t he?” she said quietly.

Daphne knew that the woman was not referring to Alex.

“I thought he’d soften,” she found herself murmuring, glancing down at the plain gold band around her ring finger. It felt odd, wearing a ring all the time, and she found herself fidgeting with it more often than not, twisting it around her finger. “I thought it was all just for show. A wall, put up to keep intruders out.”

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