Page 33 of The Duke I Wished For
She reached up a hand and brushed her fingers over his jaw. “Thank you. You’re very handsome.”
They were so close and her scent had wrapped about him. He leaned just a bit closer until his forehead rested against hers, the tips of their noses just touching. “You think so?”
He didn’t even know why he asked other than he wished to know that she liked him enough…
“Oh, yes,” she whispered. “Very.”
With that last word, he tilted his chin so that his lips could just press to hers. For a moment, she held completely still. She didn’t shift away, but neither did she kiss him back. And then slowly, sweetly, her lips pressed closer to his.
That small touch, the slow, gentle press of her mouth filled him with such tenderness, that he found himself holding her other cheek so that her face was cupped in his large hands, her mouth coming to his over and over.
“Daffodil,” he murmured between touches. He wasn’t sure if the name was a claiming or a plea. But as he finally pulled back, the warm tenderness in her eyes had his heart thudding loudly in his chest.
He opened his mouth to say her name again.
“Daffodil?” But it wasn’t him. The name had come from down the hall in a high feminine voice. “Daffodil, are you down here?”
“My mother,” Daffodil gasped, instantly tensing and pushing off the wall so that she bumped into his chest.
“Is it?” he hardly cared at this moment. He’d tell Daffodil’s mother to leave them be and be done with her. But he couldn’t. This was, hopefully, his future mother-in-law, so he’d greet her civilly no matter how much her behavior grated him.
“We have to go,” Daffodil said, pushing at his chest. He gave way to her wish, moving back.
But he didn’t understand. After that kiss, their engagement was all but sealed. Wasn’t it? “That’s hardly necessary. I’ll speak with your father first thing?—”
“We have to go now,” Daffodil hissed. “My mother, she isn’t the sort to be deterred. If we don’t go, we’ll be engaged by the end of the evening.”
Something hard and unpleasant settled in the pit of his stomach. They weren’t engaged already?
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Daffodil tugged on Blake’s hand, urging him down the hall. If they just walked the opposite direction from her mother’s voice, they would surely make their way back into the throng of the party without being discovered.
As far as Daffodil was concerned, this was her way of repaying the duke after he’d saved her from Mr. Benson’s unwanted advances.
Because no one scared her more than her mother. And the countess had her sights set on a duke for a son-in-law.
Which meant that if, after she shared all her feelings with him, he wished to change his mind and not marry her, she’d make certain he had that choice. Her heart twisted at the idea. Watching him turn away from her now would hurt so much, but she’d give him that option.
She’d tell him how she felt and then she’d allow him to decide if he still wished to marry her. She’d be brave…
She thought of that butterfly she’d seen that morning around the maypole. And how she’d wished to be transformed into the winged creature so that she might escape her fate. She’d not run any longer. Nor would she hide.
She’d face whatever came next with her chin high.
They slipped from the hall and into the throng of partygoers, the four-piece orchestra in the corner striking up a waltz.
Blake gave her hand a bit of a tug and she stopped attempting to move through the crowd as she turned back to look at him.
His fingers still tangled in hers, he leaned close. “Shall we dance?”
She turned to him, giving a quick nod. She had so much to say but it might be easier if they were moving, occupied, when she confessed her true feelings.
This time, it was he who tucked her hand into his arm and began to push through the crowd to find an open spot on the dance floor.
He was much better at parting the crowd, and soon they’d found a spot in the center of the floor.
When his hand came to her waist, she found herself looking up into his dark glittering eyes, words failing her as they began to move.
