Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“P-Pardon?” Daphne asked, her voice sounding squeaky and nearly an octave higher than normal.
Fear gripped her at the thought of being thrown from one man to another, like a dog’s bone. However, something was different with this man. Yes, she was shocked, but she also wanted to know what he had to say for himself.
In one light, it looked as though he was rushing to her rescue, saving her from the dreadful Briarwood.
But, in another way, she saw how his hasty actions did neither of them justice.
She knew next to nothing about this man and there was no telling if he would prove to be formidable, as the reverend had mentioned earlier, or if he would show her kindness.
The Duke of Wolfcrest’s intriguing eyes were on hers. Amber. Like a wolf in the wild. Yet beneath the icy calm, she could easily detect a message.
Play along.
She was somehow stupefied by the possibility that someone was trying to get her to play at all. She was always a pawn, a piece to be manipulated, ever under her mother’s thumb. Daphne had only ever been a pretty thing to be used to win favors.
Her heart hammered in her chest as her whole existence felt illuminated. It was as if she was experiencing everything at the same time: the incredulity in Briarwood’s eyes, the bafflement in Daniel’s and the Nicholsons’ quiet confusion.
None of the people in the cottage seemed to accept the words uttered by the Duke.
It was as if they all were waiting for someone else to say that it was all a jest. Through all the speculation the Duke looked composed.
His face was even full of affection, as if he was truly standing in front of his betrothed.
“I… I am quite well, Your Grace,” she managed to say louder, even though her throat had gone dry. “And you?”
Somehow, she managed a small smile. Someone who knew her might even say she looked shy, then, which was not difficult to believe.
“And I am much better now that I’m here with you this morning,” he replied smoothly, smiling at her.
His gaze conveyed an appearance of infatuation towards her, even though it was only an act.
He was so close, but she still felt safe. He was not crowding her but was within her space enough to let his scent of cedar and rain waft towards her. She had to stop herself from inhaling him deeply. It was strange behavior coming from her.
“After our conversation last night, I hastened here as soon as I could manage this morning. Forgive my tardiness. I assure you that I was most eager to see you, my lady,” he said in a low voice that was meant supposedly for her.
But the cottage was small, and she swore everyone heard those words clearly. She gulped once, her heart beating fast as she tried her best to keep her composure.
Please, let this work.
“You wanted to see her?” Briarwood’s jaw was clenched, and he was openly glaring at the Duke.
“Ah, my apologies, my lords. I was quite taken by my lady’s beauty that I forgot my manners.
Lord Grisham, Lord Briarwood.” The Duke gave a charming smile and a bow to her brother and the Earl.
“I must say this is a lovely surprise. I was not expecting more company this morning other than my betrothed and the Nicholsons.”
“Indeed, Your Grace,” Briarwood grunted, his knuckles white as he gripped his cane. “I had not expected to see you here, either.”
Possibly by instinct, Daniel moved to block Briarwood from getting any closer to Daphne. The Duke shifted to his side.
“My lord,” the Duke said, “I must offer my apologies. I have not asked you for your approval properly.”
“My approval?” the young marquess echoed, looking completely confounded.
Daphne was speechless throughout, her chest tight from the tension around her. Then, the Duke looked her way. It was a direct, unflinching glance, meant to read her soul.
She nodded.
“Yes, Daniel,” she said. She twisted her hands in front of her, trying to hide the fact that they were trembling. “His Grace and I have, well, we’ve grown fond of each other and—”
“What?” Briarwood interrupted bitterly, disbelief clear on his face. He was turning red, not from shame but outrage.
“Quite so,” the Duke confirmed. “In fact, I have already asked for her hand in marriage, and she’s accepted.
The only logical step after that was to contact Lord Grisham, of course, but my dear Daphne has assured me that her brother is most invested in her happiness.
She said he would not stand in our way.” The Duke tipped his head to the side and gave Daphne a roguish smile.
“You are proud to call yourself my betrothed, are you not, my love?”
Daphne bit the inside of cheek before she offered a sweet smile. “Of course, Your Grace. It gives me the greatest happiness indeed.”
“Well, that settles it, then. What say you, Lord Grisham? Shall we discuss the marriage contract when we all return to London?”
The room went quiet, then. Only the sound of the fire crackling and a lone crow cawing outside took over. Daniel looked completely in shock as he studied his sister’s face, then the Duke’s. Then, he shifted his gaze toward the glowering Briarwood. Finally, he looked back at his sister.
She pleaded with him using only her eyes, hoping that he’d read the message there.
Trust me, Daniel. Please.
He blinked. It was enough. She could tell that he understood and that he was willing to play along while Briarwood was still present.
“If my sister wishes to marry you, she has my blessing. That’s my only concern. Daphne gets to choose her destiny and not be forced into something she does not want. So, if you have both reached an agreement with one another, I would be happy to discuss terms once we’ve returned to town.”
Daniel’s words held a warning only Daphne was fully aware of. He was sending a message to both Briarwood and the Duke of Wolfcrest.
“How romantic!” Mrs. Nicholson gasped, her hands on her chest, looking positively delighted.
Daphne was astonished by how quietly Sarah had caught on to the ruse. She could have gaped at them, and no one would have blamed her. But instead, the reverend’s wife played her part well, acting as if she was enthralled by the announcement rather than shocked.
“Congratulations, Your Grace and my lady,” the Reverend murmured, even though he looked slightly unsettled at the turn of events.
Daphne felt nervous about the deception, but she did not have a choice when Briarwood all but wanted to pull her into a carriage against her wishes.
“This is quite sudden,” Briarwood gritted out between clenched teeth.
“Yes,” the Duke agreed. “You are right. It’s a whirlwind. But when you find the person—the one you know you’d love for a lifetime, it does not matter how short the period of courtship is.”
“Love?” The Earl seemed unfamiliar with the concept.
“Indeed,” the Duke of Wolfcrest continued in his low but clear voice.
“We got acquainted through the Reverend, and well, it was very difficult for me not to be completely taken by Lady Daphne. Of course, all our interactions were in a public space, Lord Grisham, and chaperoned. I wouldn’t want you to think I was untoward with your sister. ”
The Duke then turned to Daphne, who still had to keep her breathing in check. His gaze, defiant when on Briarwood, softened as he turned it to her.
“Wouldn’t you agree, my lady?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes. Well, it was certainly sudden. Lord Briarwood, this is partly the reason why I would not accept your proposal and couldn’t tell you why earlier.
I wished my brother to know about my courtship with the Duke first,” she said.
“Now that he knows, I must confess that I have fallen in love with the Duke.”
“Oh, have you now?” Briarwood demanded, his tone balancing precariously between disbelief and indignation.
Daphne spied the subtle motions of the men in the room.
The Reverend stepped closer to his wife, as if he was ready to protect her if a brawl began.
Daniel’s hands were clenched into fists.
Briarwood tapped his cane twice on the floor, while the Duke looked dangerously calm.
It was hard to tell from his relaxed posture if he was willing to fight the older lord.
“A gentleman like you wouldn’t protest against true romance, would you, my lord?” the Duke asked, still smiling, yet this time, the smile barely reached his eyes.
The air was practically humming between Daphne’s would-be suitors. The two men stared at each other, seemingly daring each other to back down.
The Duke of Wolfcrest’s eyes seemed to say, “She is mine.”
That could not possibly be Daphne’s imagination alone. She could see, plain as day, that the Duke meant business and his entire demeanor was bent on showing Briarwood to the door.
A flicker of uncertainty passed across Briarwood’s face.
It was not fear that flitted there. It was too much to hope for that reaction when it came to him. It looked like he was calculating the situation, thinking over how he could not do anything about the arrangements now, but in the future, he might just try…
The determination that Daphne detected told her he would return. He had proven himself to be resilient.
Daphne wondered how two men who both knew how to intimidate could go against each other.
“You have wasted no time, Your Grace,” the Earl sneered. “It seems you are eager to take what another man desires with little regard for the claimant.”
The Duke’s expression chilled. “Desire, my lord, is not license. Lady Daphne has made her wishes plain. You simply refuse to hear them.”
“You misunderstand what I am trying to say.”
“Oh, do I?” His tone was soft, almost courteous, but the glint in his eyes promised trouble. “Then I suggest you speak carefully, my lord. I am not a man you want to provoke.”
“The conversation is over,” Daniel declared impatiently. “My sister has already made her choice. We will not press the matter further.”