Page 3 of Her Ruse with the Rakish Duke
“She was not naked…that is not the point. I was much younger and stupid. I thought marriage was a cage that would tie me off from such pleasures. It made me go wild, hurting you. But I promise, this time, it will not happen again. You have my word.”
“Your word is unreliable at best. You have a good heart, but I do not think marriage should be on your mind yet. Could you tell my parents that?”
“I cannot.”
Daphne jerked her head up to stare at his face, “Why? Why do you insist on this?”
“You are the best for me. It might take some time, but you will see it eventually.”
“You are as delusional as you are rakish.”
“You wound me, Daphne. But I will change your mind soon.”
Daphne stepped back from him. The duke had just slipped away from his conversation. She wanted to speak with him, despite the nasty heaviness in her chest. It urged her to stay where she was. Following a man like Victor would be worse than being with Percy.
But Daphne’s heart got the best of her.
“You can try. I have to get a drink.”
“You drink now, too?”
“Why not? It eases the nerves, especially with all the preparations in the house.”
“Your sister’s wedding. I am terrified for all of you who have to be in close proximity with her.”
“Do not speak of Amelia in that manner,” Daphne chided half-heartedly. It was old news that her sister had the ability to escalate any situation and worry about everything while speaking about ten million words an hour, fast.
“In any case, I was invited. And I cannot wait to share another dance with you there. It is one of the few joys of the day.”
“Are you bent on making me crazy?”
“I want you to see my heart. I am sorry. I will take any opportunity I can to show you.”
“Sure.”
Daphne tapped a girl standing nearby, took her hand, and joined it with Percy’s. “Enjoy.”
Percy had blond hair, bright, hazel eyes, and a straight, tall stature. The girl melted into his arms and even though he wanted to follow Daphne, he was a gentleman and would not leave the girl standing.
Daphne walked toward the man that made her heart race.
* * *
“Great heavens, Kensington, will you quit moping?” Harry exclaimed, nudging Victor.
Victor arched an imperious brow at his friend. Harry cleared his throat and turned away. “What is that on your neck?”
Harry peered down at himself with a smile, “A necktie, I am told. Amelia seems to think it makes me look dashing.” The man actually preened.
Disgustingly sweet.
Victor would have rolled his eyes if he knew how. “You know she has got you wrapped around her little finger.”
“Is that so?” Harry grinned scratching a non-existent itch on his jaw. “Perfect. When do you intend to speak with her sister? I had the guts to make my intentions known. I cannot say the same for you.”
“You speak nonsense,” Victor said. Then he looked across the sea of people and found her. The freckled goddess that had possessed his thoughts and heart for the past four years.
She was twirling about the dancefloor in the arms of another man. He supposed there was some kind of justice in that. He had ignored her; she belonged to another now.
