Page 65 of Romancing Daphne

“Scamp!” Daphne followed its path. How absurd if she were to findJames only after losing his dog. He no doubt would simply smile at her ashe always did.

The puppy, as it turned out, was very fast. Daphne stepped into the trees, but Scamp was nowhere to be seen. Where had he gone?

“I am doing my very best.”

Daphne stopped at the unexpected sound of James’s voice. He too had come into the clump of trees. Perhaps the pup ran in sensing his master wasthere. If not, they could certainly find the mongrel easier if they workedtogether.

Together.Daphne silently sighed at the joy of that single word. She hadso often battled with feelings of loneliness. Only in moments of hopefuldaydreaming had she imagined that changing so entirely.

She moved in the direction of James’s voice, spotting him just on the other side of a close cluster of narrow-trunked trees. He was not alone, which made sense when she thought about it—he obviously had been speaking to someone. That someone, it turned out, was his father. Their conversation appeared to be of a very serious nature.

Neither had noticed her arrival. She stepped back a little, hoping to get away before being caught eavesdropping, however unintentional.

“I give you full credit, son, for making a good show,” Lord Techney said. “But there is something lacking in your efforts. Others have noticed that you do not seem appropriately eager.”

“On the contrary,” James said.“I have heard any number of onlookers make quite the opposite observation.”

It was a decidedly odd conversation. Eager about what? A good show ofwhat?

“Do not think I will sit idly by while you make halfhearted efforts to fulfill your end of this bargain,” Lord Techney said.“You know well the consequences of refusing to follow through with this.”

James’s father had done something. Daphne thought back on the past few days, on the time she’d spent with James. He’d never mentioned any looming crisis. He would have told her. They had grown close, confiding in each other, to a degree, at least.

“I have not withdrawn from our bargain,” James said. “I am fulfilling it. I expect you to do so as well.”

She should not have kept listening but couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever James and his father were discussing was of utmost importance.

“Do not assume, Tilburn, that I have not pieced together your counterstrategy. If Miss Lancasterrejects your suit, you intend to argue that youstill kept your part of our bargain, that you had undertaken the courtshipas agreed but can’t be held accountable for her rejection.”

Daphne’s lungs tightened to the point of pain. Counterstrategy? One that involved his expectations of a rejected suit? His apparent hope for a rejection. Fromher.

She slowly shook her head, attempting to dislodge the unease that saturated her every thought. His attentions had been too pointed to have been anything other than an effort at courting her. All of Society knew his intentions and the happiness with which she had accepted them.

“The outcome of all this does not rest on my shoulders alone,” he said.“You may have the power to threaten Mother and Ben and even me, but youcannot threaten her. You cannot force her hand as you have forced mine.”

Forcedhis hand? No. He could not have meant that.

“I am not interested in her choices, James. Only in the outcome ofyours.” Lord Techney spoke with every bit as much firmness as James had a moment earlier. “This family needs the connection, needs the boost to ourstatus. Your efforts here are meant to secure that. You will not fail me in this.”

Say he is wrong, Daphne silently begged James.You are courting me because you like me. Tell him. Tell him you are beginning to love me.

But no correction was forthcoming.

Daphne’s surroundings lost focus, her eyes refusing to sharpen thepainful scene playing out before her. She leaned heavily against the tree, herbreaths coming in near-silent gasps. James was being forced to court her.

She could make out their silhouettes and hear the vague sound of their voices still in quiet conversation, but nothing made sense in her spinning mind. Each breath she took required more effort than the last. Her throat seemed to be closing off as she looked away.

He was courting her to obtain social status for his family, to fulfill an agreement he’d made with his father. He did not pay her these attentionsout of adoration or tenderness or any of the other reasons she, in her foolishness, had imagined. The gentleman she’d silently adored for six years had courted her just as she’d hoped but hadn’t meant a moment of it.

And that meant he didn’t love her.

Hot tears stung Daphne’s eyes. She had believed him. She had naively embraced hislies.

She heard Scamp bark but did not look about for him. If anything, her surroundings had grown more indiscernible. A nauseating weakness overtook her. Daphne had never swooned in the course of her entire life yet feltdangerously close to sinking to the ground.

Long-past memories she’d forced herself not to think about rushed headlong to the surface.“Such a lovely looking family, the Lancasters. Except forthat little Daphne.A little mouse of a thing. Has not a bit of her mother’sbeauty. She’ll not amount to much.” “Go, Daphne”—her father’s voice—“I would far rather be alone.”

The deep, pulsating wounds those comments and dozens like them had inflicted over the years ripped through her anew. She closed her eyes, pressing her hand to her chest the way she’d done since childhood. She’d always managed to push back the pain, ignore the sting of ridicule and rejection untiltime lessened its impact. But as she stood there alone in the small clusterof trees, the anguish refused to be silenced. For the first time, she could notdiscount those caustic evaluations. She had only ever warranted the notice ofone gentleman, and he had fabricated it all.

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