Chapter 9 #3
“How did you do that?” She laughed as he lifted a snowball height and made a show of balancing it in one hand.
“Did you think you could run away from me?” he said as he playfully flipped the snowball in the air and caught it once more without ever needing to look directly at it.
She cringed and closed her eyes. “Do not throw it!” she begged. “You are too close. The cold will sting.”
Because she kept her eyes sealed tightly, awaiting the cold wet snowball to land on her cheek at any moment, she did not see what the Duke did. But then, as one second passed into the next, she gained the courage to open her eyes and peer up at him.
Just as her eyelashes fluttered, the Duke cornered her against a wall, his arms bracing on either side of her head.
Those amber eyes were on her, trying to seek more from her even as she tried to read him. He was still panting from the fight, but it was clear there was triumph in those eyes. Something else simmered there. Something more intimate.
“Surrender, Duchess,” he commanded, and she knew he was not only talking about the snowball fight.
At some point, he had dropped his snowball, and so Daphne was unimpressed by his bravado.
“Never,” she breathed.
His smile broadened.
“Let us agree to a temporary truce, then. It is hard to defeat you.”
She knew he didn’t want to win, either. If he had, he would have clobbered her with the snowball rather than let it drop at their feet. He stepped back. While it was loud in the village, the two seemed to be caught in their own silence.
“Come home with me,” the Duke urged as he offered Daphne his hand.
She accepted him. “We may discuss this truce further there.”
“Indeed.”
The joy of the afternoon blended into the comfort of the evening. After the chilly joy of snowball fights, they went home by carriage. Their staff watched them with undisguised awe and happiness. Their Duke and Duchess had finally had a full day simply having fun.
In the drawing room, they then enjoyed the fire coming from the hearth. Warm and cozy, they sat beside each other on the couch, inhaling the scent of pine needles while drinking hot chocolate from their mugs.
Adrian stared contemplatively into the flames. His shield seemed to be down, and Daphne had to admit, hers was, too. She could not help but still think of his sister, the strikingly beautiful but long-dead girl in the portrait. Could she ask about her?
The man beside her was fully human the whole day, shedding his title to have fun with the villagers. It was satisfying to see everyone waving them goodbye at the end, with no fear in their eyes.
The Wolf had shown himself to be a man. But she knew something dangerous still lurked beneath the surface. So, she didn’t want to just ask him questions she knew he might balk against.
“We used to play with snow often,” she began, even as she held her mug, soothed by the heat it gave to her chilly hands.
“You and your siblings?” the Duke asked, looking alert and curious.
“Yes. My sisters and Daniel. You already know that Marianne, Elizabeth, Daniel and I had different mothers. Mine and Victoria’s died. Then, our father married again.”
She could not help but show sadness. She had wondered what the first Lady Grisham was like.
She heard she was kinder than her mother, and her father used to be close to being a good man when she was still alive.
The first wife died giving birth to Daniel.
It was also the birth of Lord Grisham’s cruelty.
“I have heard of it, yes,” the Duke admitted, nodding slowly.
“Well, Wilhelmina, Victoria, and I followed. We are a big family. As children, we felt the advantage of that. Winters were mostly joyful, as long as our father and mother did not see anything they were disappointed about.”
Her voice trailed off. In her memories, she could still hear their father’s cane, tapping in warning.
“I met your father once or twice.” The Duke’s admission surprised her. Daphne did not know about that. Then again, she was probably still too young, then. “I am sorry that you had to grow up with a man like that in your house.”
His jaw clenched. For some reason, Daphne thought that his reaction was not only for her father’s behavior but for something else. His own? She wanted to know more.
“My siblings more than made up for it. It’s why even though we were happy for our older sisters getting married, we were also getting desperate. We were afraid that our family was starting to fall apart.”
“I can see that they are still there for you,” the Duke said.
“Yes.”
“They do not trust me yet, but Briarwood’s harassment had forced their hand. I want them to know that you are safe here.”
“I am. I know.”
They were quiet for a moment, sipping their hot cocoa while staring into the fire.
“Your Grace,” she broke the silence, using a soft and careful voice. “Tell me about your sister, Lady Cassandra. I—I have seen her portrait.”
It was mere curiosity on her part, but for him it was an intrusion. A violation.
He immediately stiffened. The softened features had vanished and the fire that blazed in the room cast shadows on his face, making his profile look sharper and more unyielding.
He rose from the sofa, taking away his comfortable weight from beside her.
He turned to her and warned, “There are shadows in this family you’d be wiser not to walk into.”
Without waiting for her to say anything, he left her in the room. Her jaw was slack.
This time, it was the Duke who had left her behind, and she knew just how hollow it made her feel.