Page 18 of Romancing Daphne

“That doesn’t bode well.” Her success was in question as it was.

“I thought after Adam’s dispatch of Mr.Bartramat the theater a fewnights ago that no one would dare so much as offer any of us a good day.”Persephone moved her hands to her lap once more, but her earnest gazestayed on Daphne’s face. “But then Lord Tilburn arrived like a rescuingknight. If not for his willingness to brave Adam’s wrath, I don’t think a single soul would have stepped inside.”

“Adam glared them all back out as it was,” Daphne reminded her.

“Yes, he did.” Persephone’s eyes slid to Adam, something secretively warm in her expression. Persephone enjoyed that aspect of her husband’s character, Daphne was certain of it. Though she loved Adam dearly, she herself couldn’t imagine being married to someone who tended more toward the frightening than the tender.

“Ah, here comes Mr.Vernon,” Persephone said to Adam. “Please don’t threaten him. He’s only a pup.”

Daphne watched Mr.Vernon’s approach with growing trepidation. She knew how to dance; Persephone had seen to that. But she was not a very good dancer. Hers was not an overly critical evaluation of herself; grace simply wasn’t one of her strengths. She knew that. She accepted it. And until that moment, she hadn’t been the least bit bothered by it.

Mr.Vernonarrived looking almost as ill at ease as Daphne felt. “Goodevening, again, Your Grace.” He made a quick bow to Persephone. Hiseyes grew wide when they fell on Adam. Daphne didn’t dare look at her brother-in-law for fear she would either laugh in amusement or melt into apuddle of embarrassment—both felt entirely likely in that moment.

“Adam,” Persephone said. “Have you made the acquaintance of Mr.Vernon, younger son of the Viscount Dourland?”

“I am aware of his existence,” Adam said.

A bow punctuated by almost violent trembling was all the response Mr.Vernonseemed capable of making.

“How old are you?” Adam demanded, ever the epitome of social graces.

Mr.Vernoncleared his throat. “Nineteen.” The poor man’s voice actually cracked.

“This one isn’t even housebroken, Persephone,” he muttered.

“Would you rather your sister-in-law be escorted to the dance floor by a man of great worldly experience?” Persephone asked. “Because I do believe Lord Byron is expected here this evening.”

“If that impudent mutt comes within a ballroom’s length of Daphne, I will see to it he is never able to hold a quill again. Then we’ll see how many more volumes of his poetic drivel he can foist on an unsuspecting public.”

Mr.Vernontook a step backward.

“There are a great many people who enjoy his drivel,” Persephone said, apparently oblivious to the flight of Daphne’s only prospect of the evening.

“There are also a great many people who think I will stand idly by while presumptuous muttonheads make fools of themselves.”

Mr.Vernonfled entirely.

Adam, however, wasn’t finished. “I believe we have endured enough of Society for one Season.”

“It has been one week, Adam,” Persephone said. “And you agreed to this.”

“I am the Duke of Kielder. It is my prerogative to change my mind.”

Persephone stood slowly, her eyebrow arching in a perfect imitation of Adam’s most famous facial expression. “Well, Iam theDuchessof Kielder, and it is my prerogative to change it back.”

“That would require a great deal of convincing,” Adam said.

“Is that a challenge?” Persephone tipped her head saucily.

“Would you like it to be?”

“Do you two never stop flirting?” Daphne muttered.

“Hush, Daphne,” her sister answered. “I will change his opinion yet.”

“You might convince me to remain, but you will never convince me to be happy about it.”

Persephone shrugged one shoulder. “That is good enough for me.”

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