Page 58 of His Runaway Duchess

“Well, you are so very small.” Daphne laughed. “When you’re taller than me, we’ll dance again, and thenIwill do the spinning.”

“Well, Papa grew very tall very quickly,” Alex muttered, piqued. “So that will be something to look forward to.”

Something to look forward to.Daphne smiled to herself.He’s a sweet boy. I’ll do my best to be a good mama to him.

Heaven help us both.

The music sped up, and they spun faster and faster, stumbling over the made-up steps and laughing, losing their rhythm and almost bumping into the other dancers.

And then Daphne very nearly bumped into a tall, solid wall of a man.

It was, of course, her husband. He stood tall and very straight-backed, his shoulders squared and his face impassive. The dancers whirled around him, making a conscious effort not to knock into him. The three of them were now standing still in the middle of a busy dance floor, no doubt minutes or even seconds away from a collision.

“Edward,” she gasped, breathing hard and trying to steady herself. “What were you thinking, walking onto the dance floor like that? You’ll cause chaos.”

He smiled tightly. “The only one causing chaos is you, my dear bride. What dance is this, by the way?”

“It’s made up,” Alex volunteered.

Daphne felt the color rush to her cheeks. “I suppose you’ve come to tell us to stop,” she mumbled. “Am I embarrassing you, my dear husband?”

Edward smiled grimly. “No. I’m harder to embarrass than you might think. And I did not come to tell you to stop. I came to ask—with Alex’s permission, of course—if I might dance with you, Daphne.”

CHAPTER 16

Daphne stared up at Edward, trying to read his expression.

It was no good, of course. He only looked back down at her, his eyes cold and distant.

“I don’t mind,” Alex answered his father stoutly, turning to look up at Daphne. “Daffie? Do you mind?”

Daphne was briefly curious as to what would happen if she saidno. She’d never heard of a bride refusing to dance with her groom on their wedding day, but doubtless, ithadoccurred before.

“Of course, I’ll dance with him,” she responded, addressing Alex but keeping her eyes on Edward.

She felt as though she couldn’ttear her gaze away from him, as if they were stuck together by magnetism or something silly like that.

“I’m going back for more cake,” Alex decided and skipped away towards the refreshments table.

That left the two of them alone and in greater danger of being knocked into by the other dancers than before.

“We ought to dance, then,” Edward said, extending a hand.

Daphne took it, and she abruptly found herself pulled against him, his hand on her waist and her other hand in his—a waltz position. They twirled around, falling into the circular flow of the other dancers.

The last time Daphne had been this close to him, they’d been neck-deep in cold water and in a rather shocking state of undress. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her mind on other things. It was not entirely working.

“So, what have I done wrong now, then?” she asked, a trifle breathless. She told herself it was only from the speed of the dance.

“Done wrong? Why, do you think that I came over here to scold you?” Edward remarked dryly. “In front of your friends and family, and all of our guests?”

“Well, I don’t know. Did you?”

He smiled tightly. “No. Although there is still time.”

“Ha-ha,” she deadpanned. “So, to what do I owe this honor, then?”

“Honor? It’s our wedding day. I could hardly avoid dancing with you.”

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