Page 44 of Her Ruse with the Rakish Duke
“Which one do you prefer?” he continued, his gaze locked with hers across the flickering expanse of the fire. “A rainy day spent indoors curled up by the fire with a good book, or a picnic in summer by a pond?”
She considered his question carefully, her brow furrowing slightly as she gazed into the depths of the flames.
After a moment’s contemplation, she said, “A rainy day indoors,” her words carrying a hint of nostalgia. “There is something decadent about the sound of heavy rain against the windows, something almost… magical.”
He nodded in understanding, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Indeed,” he murmured, his eyes alight with shared understanding. “The rain has a way of soothing the soul, don’t you think? It is as though the world outside is being cleansed, renewed, reborn.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, “I did not know you could be so poetic, Your Grace.”
“You do not know a lot of things about me, Lady Daphne,” he responded, his voice deep and low, sending shivers down her spine.
Their eyes met.
“Such as?” she challenged, and she spotted a twinkle of excitement in his eyes.
The rain outside suddenly intensified in a rhythm that harmonized perfectly with the crackling fire.
The room’s atmosphere grew warmer. She held his gaze, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and intrigue.
Victor leaned back in his armchair, the book in his lap forgotten. “Such as,” he began, “my appreciation for the arts. Poetry, literature, music… they all have a way of speaking to the soul, don’t you think?”
Daphne arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “I had no idea you were such a romantic, Victor.”
He chuckled softly, the sound rich and inviting. “There are many layers to a person. One just needs to take the time to peel them away.”
She leaned forward slightly, her interest piqued. “And how many layers do you think you have, Your Grace?”
“More than most care to discover,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I suspect you might be different.”
“Different, how?” she asked.
He studied her for a moment as if weighing his next words carefully. “You seem to have a thirst for knowledge, a curiosity that goes beyond the surface. You see the world in a way that others might overlook.”
Daphne scoffed. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Your Grace.”
“Who said I was trying to flatter you?” he countered smoothly, a grin playing at his lips. “I am merely stating an observation.”
She laughed softly. “Perhaps you are right. Maybe I do see things a bit differently.”
“Well, you are the only one in this house who has decided to spend their evening reading in the library instead of slumbering. Apart from yours truly, that is.” Victor’s gaze softened, his demeanor becoming more earnest, “Tell me, Daphne. What is it that you see when you look at the world? What captivates your imagination?”
Daphne took a moment to think, her eyes drifting to the fireplace. “I see beauty in the small things,” she began, her voice thoughtful. “The way the rain sounds against the window, the way a good book can transport you to another world, the way a simple smile can change someone’s day.”
He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It is the little things that make life truly remarkable, isn’t it?”
“Indeed,” she agreed, her eyes returning to his. “And what about you? What captivates your imagination?”
Upon hearing her question, his eyes roamed over her and by the time they had reached her eyes again, he licked his lips. Daphne gulped, seeing the way his gaze had shifted, and gone darker. She knew his answer was not going to be as chaste as hers.
However, Victor blinked and put on a polite smile, and the hungry darkness in his eyes vanished. “The same things, really. Moments of quiet reflection, the power of a well-chosen word, the mystery in a pair of curious eyes.”
Daphne felt her cheeks warm under his gaze. “You are quite the enigma, you know.”
“Only to those who do not take the time to look,” he replied softly. “But I think you might be up to the challenge.”
She tilted her head, her smile teasing. “Are you daring me, Your Grace?”
“Consider it an invitation,” he said, his voice low. “To see if you can unravel the mystery.”
