Chapter 9
The Fairmont ball had been a success even though he hadn’t managed to steal a kiss or two with Daphne as he’d originally set out to do. He longed to have her mouth crushed against his again. Uncomfortable, he rolled over under the covers to lie flat on his back. He wasn’t ready to leave the comfort and privacy of his bed. His plans for the day entailed subjecting himself once again to the torture of watching the seductive sway of Daphne’s hips. He’d learned quickly it was best if he tended to the ache in his loins before spending the day in Daphne’s vicinity or he risked subjecting her to the ungainly sight of his discomfort.
He slung his arm over his eyes to block out the increasing light seeping through the curtains and reached down with his other hand to stroke his fully erect cock. Years of self-pleasure meant he could usually find release efficiently within a few short minutes but he prolonged his agony, lingering in his fantasy of Daphne naked in his bed riding him until she found her own pleasure first.
The erotic dream came to a sudden halt at the sound of knuckles rapping at his chamber door. “Ambrose, wake up! I need to speak with you.”
He sat up, leaned against the headboard, and threw a pillow over his lap. “Enter.”
Alice marched into his room, went directly to the windows, and pulled back the curtains. “What is the plan for today?”
“Same as every day.”
“Ugh. Brother!” Alice spun around and faced him planting her hands on her hips. “The Season has begun. Daphne is already busy receiving morning calls and here you are still lying about.”
He often envied his sister’s boldness, except today her take-charge attitude riled his frustrations at having failed to convince Daphne of his interest. “If that is the case, then why are you not down below instead of harassing me?” he uncharacteristically barked back.
“Because everyone believes the ludicrous rumors you have spread, I’m now a spinster without a dowry and have been firmly placed in the unmarriageable category.”
All his anger and frustration evaporated. “I’m sorry.”
Alice shook her head and then shrugged. “Don’t be.”
“I’ve never understood why you have refused offer after offer of interest from gentlemen.”
Alice countered, “Why have you been resistant to marry?”
“I wanted to ensure my affairs were all in order before I married.”
“Same.”
There were times like today where he was mystified as to how a woman’s mind worked. “Pray share with me what matters you need to have completed prior to agreeing to marriage.”
“You.”
“Me?” Ambrose ran his fingers through his hair and kneaded the back of his neck. “Will you please cease with your damned one-word answers and explain.”
Alice dropped her hands to her side and grasped them tightly behind her back. “You wish for an explanation…”
Why was she delaying? Alice was quick witted. Her need for extra time was not only suspicious, it was telling. His sister was keeping a secret from him.
She rolled onto the balls of her feet and then back down, twice before popping her head up and meeting his gaze. “If I married…ah…if I were to marry, who would run the household?”
After their father’s death, their mama had withdrawn into her own world, leaving Alice to run the Harlowe household. Their mama had emerged from her fog the day of Alice’s debut and presentation to the queen but had left Alice in charge of what she referred to as menial details. Both he and Alice knew it was no small feat to manage the staff and keep everyone happy. He’d relied upon Alice for far too long.
Ambrose mumbled, “I’m sure I’d manage somehow.”
“You need a wife, and I can only hope you can win Daphne’s hand and heart after all these years.”
Ambrose frowned. Alice had never doubted his abilities even when he had taken over the family estate at the age of thirteen. “Have you ever known me to fail?”
“Not once you have decided upon a course of action; however, I’m not entirely convinced you have fully committed to courting Daphne.”
“Why would you say such a thing?”
“First you have to be honest with yourself about how you really feel about Daphne, and then and only then do you stand a chance to convince Daphne you are the gentleman she should marry.”
“I think I prefer your one-word answers.”
Alice laughed. “I’m meeting Daphne at Lady Archbroke’s reading salon later this afternoon. Would you care to accompany me?”
Involving himself unknowingly in one of Alice’s schemes was one thing, but to do so knowingly was an entirely scary venture. If that was what it took to win Daphne’s affections, then that was what he’d do. “I appreciate your support, sister, and I shall happily escort you to the Archbroke affair.”
Alice skipped out of the room and then popped her head back in to say, “Be sure to wear your forest green cravat today.”
Forest green was a rather specific request. He rarely paid much attention to what his valet selected or helped him don each day. He rolled out of bed, padded over to his changing room, and pulled out the drawer that housed his cravats. He ran his forefinger over the rows of neatly folded material until he came to the section that held all his green cravats. He lingered over each one as flashes of Daphne’s eyes triggered a series of memories associated with the various shades of green. Damn his crafty sister. Each memory reminded him of brief interludes that he’d not given much thought to at the time, but he realized those small precious moments all had been building to this unrelenting need to make Daphne his.