Page 82 of Romancing Daphne

Once in the corridor, she stopped and leaned a moment against the wall, trying to regain her equilibrium. James was only two doors away. But why? Why would he abandon his own lodgings? His family home? And what was this about his needing employment, about his being penniless? Perhaps he had been in need of her dowry after all.

The others’ voices continued in the sitting room, loud enough for Daphne to hear their words.

“She is too blasted calm about all this,” Adam grumbled.

“A battle tactic you taught her, dear. And though I have not alwaysagreed with you on that, the ability has served her well before. She has notcrumbled when faced with Society, nor whispering gossips, and neitherwill she crumble now.”

I will not crumble now.She was becoming quite adept at pushing away the sting of rejection and disappointment. She simply refused to allow thoughts to creep in, dismissed every surge of painful emotions, suppressed every feeling, and was learning to fiercely guard every vulnerability. In time, nothing would hurt her again.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

James could not imagine anythingmore ludicrous. He was hiding in the shadows of a terrace, peering in windows. Further, he was trespassing on land that belonged to the one man in England guaranteed to shoot an interloperon sight. Once the Dangerous Duke realized the identity of his uninvited guest, he would likely shoot him again just for good measure.

Had James not grown somewhat desperate the last two days, the ideaof pretending to be a sneak-thief would never have occurred to him. Buthow was a gentleman supposed to check on the well-being of the lady he cared for if she never left her highly fortified London home?

The duke’s family had finished their meal and retired to the sitting room.It was from that terrace that he watched them, watchedher.She seemedwell but not happy. The dimple he’d missed since they’d last met made not a single appearance. She seemed to listen politely to the conversations aroundher but never joined in. She didn’t pout or sulk, but neither did she smile orlaugh.

James couldn’t determine simply by watching what might be the matter.The duke and the lieutenant had made quite clear something was wrong.

“What a pathetic lump you are,” he quietly castigated himself.“Reducedto spying on a lady you no longer have the right to speak to.”

Daphnerose from her seat and moved directly to the french doors. Had she seen him? Surely not. She would have told her brother-in-law or brother, and both men would have forcibly ejected him.

James kept to the dim corner of the terrace as Daphne stepped out. Perhaps she meant only to retreat for a bit of fresh air and would return nonethe wiser. But her steps rang of purpose. Her eyes searched the darkenedterrace. He knew the moment she saw him there. Her posture grew stiff, her expression determined.

“Lord Tilburn,” she said. The lack of feeling in her words spoke volumes of her contempt for him.“I only stepped out to tell you that you would bewell-advised to leave.” She turned swiftly toward the door.

In a panic, he grabbed her arm. An uncomfortable feeling flooded over him at that simple touch, not necessarily unpleasant but not soothing either. He had never reacted that way to her before—it was not the awkwardness of their earliest encounters nor the easy friendship of their last few days together but was a deep awareness of her presence there.

For the briefest moment, she seemed almost to relax. But then he felt her stiffen. He released her arm. He had no right to keep her there; he knew that. But he also knew he had only this one chance to say and see what he needed.

“May I have just a moment?” His words proved remarkably insufficient and sounded more than a little presumptuous.

Daphne stepped away from him.

“Please,” he tried again. What would he do if she refused to stay? Infiltrate the kitchen staff? Take up residence beneath her bedchamber window?“Please.”

Daphne paused just shy of the doorway. She did not turn around. He could see little beyond her outline contrasted against the light spilling out of the sitting room windows. She didn’t speak a word but simply stood very still. Was she waiting for him to say his piece? Would she offer him no indication of how or what she was feeling?

He hadn’t expected a warm welcome, by any means, but the chasm that separated them felt so foreign. She had always been easy to talk with and be near. Her presence had always been soothing.

“I—” What could he possibly say?I heard you were ill?I’m sorry?I am an imbecile?“How are you?” James winced, knowing instinctively the moment the words were said that he ought to have chosen something else.

Daphne didn’t move in the slightest.“You have no right to ask me that,” she whispered, more pain than anger in her voice.

He had not imagined he could feel more ashamed of himself than he had the last week. That simple sentence, said as it was in such a heartbreaking tone, proved him wrong. Would he ever manage to truly atone for his inexcusable behavior? She might never forgive him, but he needed to be certain she was well.

Daphne still had not walked away.

“I had heard you were ill,” he said.

“I am fine.” It was not at all convincing, coming in so small a voice.

“You do not sound fine.” He stepped closer, telling himself that hewished only to make certain she was well. If he was being honest, though,he wanted to prolong the moment, to see if she would stay a little longer,perhaps talk with him the way she once had.

“You need not be concerned with my well-being.” Daphne stepped closer to the wall, a little farther into the shadow.

“Not concerned?” He matched her movement, closing a little of the distance between them.“How could I not be? If you are truly—” For the first time since Daphne had stepped onto the terrace, James was able to truly see her.“You’re pale.” It seemed she really was ill.

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