Page 15 of Her Ruse with the Rakish Duke
Melanie slipped her hand through Daphne’s as they left her room. She was dressed in another gown. Thankfully, the maid promised to get the stain out of the other.
Still, it did not quell Daphne’s anger. They entered the dining area and Daphne’s stomach did the undignified rumbling. The table was laden with several kinds of food and fruits, emitting fragrant aromas that made her mouth water.
Subconsciously, she scanned the room for Victor. He was not in the vicinity. Daphne insisted to herself that she was rather relieved. She spotted the Sufforks gathered in a small circle. Percy saw her enter and made his way toward them. Daphne would have been flattered, had he not stared at the cleavage of every woman he passed on the way.
“I heard you had a fallout with the duke because of me,” Percy said.
“You find it easy to flatter yourself, Percy. No such thing happened.”
If he possessed any shame, Percy would have left. Rather, he smirked. Daphne knew that look meant he took her words for a lie. “Oh…you just decided to be rude to him. That seems plausible.”
Daphne sighed. It really was useless explaining to Percy. Besides, she had only herself to blame for flaring up at the duke.
“We should go to dinner. They are waiting.”
“Good, you will sit beside me. Tell me all about this spat you had.”
Daphne would really rather skip the whole meal than reprise that awful encounter. They reached the table, only to find that names were assigned to the seats. A triumphant smile lit her face when she saw Percy’s name next to his parents.
His lips curved in a displeased smile.
“Wait here, I will switch these.”
“No!” Daphne shouted. A number of eyes swung in her direction. Subtly, Daphne cleared her throat. “I mean, your parents might need you.”
“You are trying to be rid of me, are you?”
“How can I? You are everywhere.”
Daphne hurried toward the head of the table. She saw her sisters’ names, her parents, Melanie was next to her mother. Then her own, finally. She grabbed the back of the chair when her gaze flickered to the next name.
“The Duke of Kensington?” she muttered in anger. She pushed her chair back inside and made to turn when she came up to a man’s chest. The devil himself grinned down at her.
“My name alone terrifies you. I would have thought it would be the other way.”
Daphne stopped breathing, simply because he was bathed in an intoxicating scent. It was a reminder of that night when her senses swam with it. And that towering arrogant confidence, when he saved her. If only he was not a despicable rake—even worse than Percy.
“In your imagination,” Daphne said tightly.
He placed his hand on the back of her chair, mere inches from hers. “You were not about to change our names? Daphne, you make a very bad liar.”
It should have been impossible to feel the heat coming from that hand, but it scalded Daphne’s anyway. She raised her chin and crossed her arms.
“You are in my way,” she said coldly. “And it is Lady Daphne to you.”
“And to where are you fleeing this time?”
“That is no concern of yours.”
“Your dress, I should replace it.”
Daphne stepped to the side, with the intention of leaving. “It will be washed. I have no need for a new one. Thank you.”
He blocked her. “It is my obligation. Will you rob me of that too?”
Daphne snorted, an unladylike sound she instantly regretted. He brought out the worst in her. What in the world did he mean bytoo?
“That word has no meaning to you.”
