Page 63 of Her Ruse with the Rakish Duke
Victor remained still, as if afraid to move. He was silent as he contemplated her words.
“You were the last person I wanted to see them. Even I struggle to hold back bile when I see them but you… you say you’re not repulsed by them?” he asked.
She shook her head at him, and feeling bold, wrapped her hands around him, placing her head on his chest.
“I do not find them at all repulsive.” She told him more firmly this time, hoping that her words would seep into his mind for good.
He was silent for so long that she didn’t know what to do. Frowning, she went to remove her arms from around him but he stopped her from doing so, embracing her tightly.
“Just a moment longer,” he whispered against her hair.
“All right,” she answered, nodding softly against his chest.
She took the time he held her to appreciate the hard planes of his physique and how deeply enveloped in his arms she was. He was much taller than her — tall enough to place his chin on the top of her head.
His intoxicating scent clouded her senses, lulling her into comfort and she let out a sigh.
His hold eased the tension that had been in her since her encounter with Percy. Even though they weren’t actually courting, it was hard for Daphne to deny any further that she liked Victor. He made it all too easy to fall for him. She would be a fool to try to resist now.
He pulled her off him gently, rubbing the back of his head in a nervous move.
“Would you like to sit inside?” he asked suddenly, nodding towards the bedroom.
“Yes. I’d like that.”
“The party guests will be done with dinner by now. I wouldn’t want anyone to catch you stepping out of my chambers. It would be better if we waited inside until everyone has gone to bed,” he hastily explained.
She laughed softly, finding this flustered version of him rather amusing as they went back to the bedroom.
Once he had thrown on a robe, he quickly slid beside her on one of the chaise longues next to the fireplace, leaving a reasonable distance between them.
She stole small glances at him out of the corner of her eye, her spine regally straight. He seemed perfectly content to sit in the silence while she was positively brimming with unspoken questions.
“Your mother told me she and your father did not have a good relationship. I didn’t know the full extent of it,” she blurted out, and Victor blinked at her in surprised.
“My mother told you that?”
“Indeed,” Daphne nodded. “Nothing could have prepared me for the truth of it.”
He laughed humorlessly. “No, I suppose nothing could.”
“Still, I want to know everything. I–I mean… I am here for you, Victor,” she responded.
She knew very well that what she was asking was bold, but she hoped he would finally see her as someone he could trust.
“You ask a hard thing, Daphne.” He sighed and Daphne slid closer to him, urging him to continue.
He clenched his jaw before he began. “My mother tried to paint a much nicer picture of what our life was when, in reality, it was hell on earth. My father took great pains to transfer his frustrations onto my mother and me. The scars you see only scratch the surface of what he inflicted. He was relentless, and when my mother tried to intervene, he turned his wrath on her, too. I had to leave to protect us both. I couldn’t bear to see her suffering any longer.”
Daphne listened, her heart breaking with each word. She mourned for him; for the childhood he never got to enjoy because of his father, and for the man still trapped in the prison of his heart.
“Oh, Victor,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “I had no idea. I am sorry you had to endure that. And I am sorry I assumed you left me only because you are a rake. I didn’t know…”
“No,” he told her. “There is no need to apologize.”
“I should.”
“It doesn’t matter, Daphne. There’s no point in dwelling on it. I have come to terms with it. But I don’t want to marry. I don’t want to be a husband or a father,” he spat out, his tone resigned.
