Page 114 of Romancing Daphne

She shook her head, reminding herself to breathe.“Do you?”

“None but this one.” He pulled her arm through his, and they walked for a moment in silence.“I have come to truly like your childhood home, Daphne.” James wore a look of quiet contentment.

“It is very beautiful,” she said.“Though you did not see it in its moreramshackle days. Without the means of keeping it up, the land and housegrew too neglected, I fear. Adam’s attentions have rectified that over the pastseven years.”

“I did not mean merely its appearance,” James said.“I’m not sure precisely how to explain what I mean. It is the feel of the place I’ve grown to value most. It is peaceful. My childhood home was anything but. I did not realize until I came here how much I felt that lack growing up.”

Peaceful.Daphne nodded to herself. The estate always had felt thatway, even if the feeling hadn’t entirely freed her of worries and upheavals.“I remember during our picnics I would lie back on the blanket and watchthe clouds pass above me and simply soak in the quietness of it all.”

“That sounds absolutely perfect,” James said.

He continually surprised her, understanding the things she valued without having to ask.“We had a particular spot we loved most.” She relived the memories even as she spoke of them.“It sat just far enough from the house that we could forget for a time the pull of responsibilities and worries. We were permitted to be carefree children for the hour or so we lingered there.”

“It was a happy place for you, then?”

She sighed.“Very.”

They turned down a path that led along the side of a copse of trees. A light breeze rustled the leaves and created ripples in the ankle-high grass just beyond the narrow path. Daphne leaned her head against his upper arm, discovering that doing so felt entirely natural.

“I was concerned about you last night,” he said.“You were very quiet.”

“I have had a lot on my mind.”

“Sometimes it helps to talk with someone,” James said.

She turned her face up to him.“You always have been quite willing to listen to me. And you even manage not to appear annoyed that I am taking up your time.”

“Perhaps that is because I am not annoyed.”

“Not at all?” She doubted he found recountings of her difficulties a pleasing way to pass an afternoon.

“I find I very much enjoy talking with you,” he said.“You are not empty-headed or demanding. Better yet, you are not a shrew.”

“A shrew?” Daphne chuckled at that.“I should hope not.”

He stopped walking, necessitating her own halt. James released her arm. Just as her heart began to drop, he stepped in front of her, taking her handsin his and smiling.“I have missed your laugh. It is far too rare a sound.”

Warmth stole across her face.

He stood silently watching her, his eyes continually drifting toward her mouth. Daphne’s heart pounded in her throat. He swallowed, still silent and intent on her face.

James pushed out a breath.“You’d best put that dimple away, Miss Lancaster. I swore quite faithfully to your sister that I would behave with utmost decorum.”

Somehow, that only made her smile wider.

He shook his head, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.“See, now this is precisely why I had to decide against a picnic.” He began down the path once more.

Daphne quickly caught up to him.“A picnic?” She had yet to go on a picnic. The one in London hardly counted, having ended in such monumental disaster.

“I even inquired after your family’s traditional picnicking spot,” James said, his step very nearly jaunty.“It proved far too isolated, especially considering your unwillingness to keep your dimple out of sight.” He smiled at her as though he would rather be there with her than anywhere else in the world.

“What have you planned instead?”

He assumed a very serious demeanor, one belied by the lingering amusement that tugged at his mouth.“A most proper walk around the grounds, Miss Lancaster.”

“And there is no chance we might have a picnic?”

“Your sister and brother-in-law would decidedly disapprove. Andthough I am rather fond of picnics, I am also rather fond of being left alive.”

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