Page 73 of His Runaway Duchess

Daphne flinched. “Ibegyour pardon?”

“You cannot help them, despite your fine intentions,” Clarissa continued, her cold eyes boring into Daphne’s. “OnlyIcan help them. I have worked to gain their affection and trust for years, and that is that. There is nothing you can do. They are mine, Duchess. Make no mistake about that. You would do well to heed my advice.”

She turned to leave, but then she paused for a moment and glanced over her shoulder.

“I… I’m sorry, Daphne. I don’t mean to be so harsh. I know what you must think of me. You think that I’m an overbearing hag, but I do know what I’m speaking of.”

Daphne cleared her throat, glancing away. “I don’t think you’re a hag.”

Clarissa gave a faint smile. “I don’t want any other woman to live the life I did. I believed that marrying the old Duke would make me happy and that being a mother to his son would give me purpose. I was wrong on both counts.”

Daphne looked up, meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry, Clarissa. That must have been terrible.”

“I endured,” Clarissa responded, straightening her spine. “That’s what we women do, isn’t it? Endure. The truth is, Daphne, they will never accept you as a true member of the family. You will try and try and try, and cut off pieces of yourself to try and fit in, but it will never be enough. They will always require a little bit more until there’s nothing left of you to give. And then, when you can change yourself no further, they will turn their backs on you and speak about what a disappointment you are. That was what happened to me, Daphne, but I hope it will not happen to you.” She reached out, as if to put a hand on Daphne’s shoulder, but changed her mind at the last moment. “There is still time for you to escape, my dear. Don’t let the chance slip away.”

Without waiting for a reply, Clarissa glided out of the room, leaving Daphne aghast and speechless.

CHAPTER 20

Atap on the door sometime later almost made Daphne jump out of her skin. She bounced to her feet, feeling irrationally guilty, and turned to face the door.

She wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d sat there, mulling over Clarissa’s strange words. Clarissa clearly wanted her gone, and that was no surprise. As far as Daphne could tell, Clarissa had been the only woman in both Edward’s and Alex’s lives for a long time and did not seem to want to give up that position. Especially since Daphne was so popular with Alex.

Was popular,Daphne reminded herself.Alex might not want to see me again.

Peter Tinn stepped into the room. He looked anxious as always but flashed her a reassuring smile.

“Master Alexander is fine,” was the first thing he said. “His arm isn’t even broken. There’s a nasty sprain to his wrist, anda good amount of cuts and bruises, to say nothing of wounded pride. But he’s safe and well, andremarkablylucky. The doctor seems happy enough. He’s asking for you, by the way. Master Alexander, that is, not the doctor.”

It was a frail joke, but Daphne smiled anyway.

Peter hesitated, eyeing her uncertainly. “Are you coming, Your Grace?”

“I am. Just… Just in a minute,” she murmured, not quite meeting his eyes.

There was a pause, then Peter took a careful step forward.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” he said quietly and carefully. “It was an accident.”

Daphne shook her head. “I should have been watching him. I should have been careful. What was Ithinking?”

“Master Alexander can be very headstrong. From what I understand, he’s much like his father at that age. He’s learned a serious lesson. Until now, he always complained about not being allowed to ride as fast or jump as high as he wanted, and now he knows why care is needed.” Peter shrugged. “It was a valuable lesson, and the cost was not as high as we might have feared. His Grace lashed out at you, I know, but you must see that it’s only because he was so worried about his son. A natural reaction, I’d say.”

Daphne pushed a hand through her hair. It occurred to her then, for the first time, what a sight she must look. Her hair was tangled, hanging over her shoulder, the strip of ribbon used to tie the end of her plait long since gone. There was a splash of dried mud on her cheek, and the hem of her skirts were all but ruined.

“Where is he, then?” she asked. “I’d like to see Alex.”

Alex still lay in the parlor where he’d been placed. Peter led Daphne there, and Alex brightened at once when he saw her.

A roaring fire had been stoked in the hearth, filling the room with heat and light. There was an arrangement of sweets on a table near Alex’s elbow. Marzipan, she noticed. A fragrant tea steamed quietly beside the marzipan, and somebody had put a handful of toy soldiers there, too. Blankets had been laden over his legs, and Mrs. Trench was assiduously plumping cushions behind his back. A bandage was wound around his forearm and wrist.

“Daffie, there you are!” he exclaimed, sitting upright. “Papa’s just gone to talk to Doctor Seymour, but they both say I’ll be as right as rain in a few days, or a week or so. I’ve only got to keep my hand still, which means no lessons for me for a while, as I can’t hold a pen.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Mrs. Trench lectured, ruffling his hair. “I’ll find something educational for you to do.”

He stuck his tongue out at her. Mrs. Trench only smiled, shaking her head.

Peter stood in the doorway, staring at Mrs. Trench with a faintly entranced expression on his face.

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