Page 52 of Romancing Daphne

“Would the duke allow it, do you think?”

“If Persephone wanted a picnic, he would let nothing prevent it. Schedules, inconveniences, not even the weather.”

“Not even the weather?” She loved the way he chuckled at her humor.

“The skies would not dare rain when the Duke of Kielder wished them clear.”

“And yet you describe him as a gentle and caring husband. To the restof us, that seems an inarguable contradiction.”

“He loves her,” Daphne said.“That, I think, makes all the difference.Watching them, I have realized that contrary to popular belief, love is arather essential ingredient in marriage.”

“Yes . . . well . . . not everyone is blessed with that.” James grew noticeably uncomfortable.“Some marriages begin on . . . on less than ideal ground.”

Did he speak of his own parents’ marriage? Daphne had noticed a marked lack of tenderness between Lord and Lady Techney.

“But not all marriages mustbeginwith love,” Daphne said.“So long as there is affection and mutual kindness. And, of course, trust.”

“That, no doubt, is what you’ve always wanted in a marriage.”

Her heart seemed to stop a moment when the significance of the topicsank in. They were discussing marriage. Nottheirmarriage, but it still feltlike a step in a more serious direction.“Yes,” she said, knowing her voice hadlost a great deal of its volume.“Affection and kindness are needed in anymarriage. Trust, I think, is especially important. A marriage cannot last if it is based on dishonesty or deception. I have always thought that essential to anykind of happiness.”

Amoment passed before James spoke quietly into the silence. “So have I.”

Chapter Nineteen

Trust.James winced as thatword echoed in his thoughts. He’d returnedagain and again to their conversation of that morning. How very telling that Daphne should mention that particular requirement. He too hadalways considered honesty a vital character trait, and yet he seemed tohave lost his grasp on his own integrity of late. Desperate circumstanceshad driven him to take desperate measures. When Father had first backed James into this, Daphne had been little more than a name. She had in thelast few weeks become much more than that. The faceless symbol of hisfather’s tyranny had transformed into a feeling, caring human being. She had gone from the lifeless“Miss Lancaster” to the intelligent yet timid and softhearted Daphne. And when precisely had he begun thinking of her by her given name?

He pushed out a tense breath. Too many burdens were piling up, andhe’d begun to sag under the weight.

James stepped inside his mother’s bedchamber. She’d not come down for dinner. She sat in her four-poster bed, propped up by pillows. Her coloring was not good. Her eyes were closed.

“How is she?” he asked the abigail hovering nearby.

“She’s in a bad way, my lord. Her throat has been ailing her, and His Lordship came in and upset her more.”

Father very seldom acknowledged Mother, something which ought to have raised James’s suspicions when Father had insisted his scheme was meant to benefit her. If he’d sought her out, there had to be a reason, and likely not a kindhearted one.

“May I ask what my father said to her?”

Mother’s feeble voice answered.“He will not send for a physician, James.”

He took hold of her hand. Her coloring had worsened just since he’d come inside.

“She is a touch feverish,” the abigail said.“I’m worried for her.”

“I truly do not feel well at all,” Mother’s throat sounded raw.“But your father said no one from the staff can be spared. He said not to even try, that he’d given strict instructions.”

Father would deny her a physician’s care because of the inconvenience? He had to know James would not allow such a thing. Was this meant to be a battle of wills, a chance to show James that he, Father, was the one with the power? Had James not already bowed to enough dictates for the family hierarchy to be painfully clear?

The abigail dabbed at Mother’s flushed cheeks with a damp cloth.She needed a doctor’s care. But the staff would never defy Lord Techney, even for James.

Daphne.Her name entered his thoughts like a bolt of lightning. She could help. Better still, he felt certain shewouldhelp.

“I know someone who is expert enough in the apothecary arts to help you feel better and rest until I can talk some sense into Father.” He yet heldher hand.“Only, please, Mother, be kind to her.”

“You mean that Miss Lancaster?” Her pale features clearly registered her disapproval.“How can I when she has ruined—”

“No, Mother. You must not blame her for what you see as my loss of freedom. That is truly not the way of it. If I can convince her to offer her assistance, will you please show her the gratitude she deserves? Her tisane did make a difference for you.”

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