Chapter 17
Hidden behind a group of young dandies, Ambrose waited for his opportunity to approach Daphne, who was flanked by Alice and Foxton’s sister, Lady Lilly. He watched as Daphne craned her neck this way and that, hypnotizing him with her movements. He recalled Madame Sinclair’s words, don’t underestimate the sensitivity of a woman’s neck. A light warm breath, a gentle graze of a finger could be extremely subtle and yet a highly effective method to awaken a lady’s desires.
He remained rooted to the spot despite noting Daphne cringe as his sister’s pointy elbow nudged Daphne’s side. “Blast Foxton.” Alice’s unladylike complaint reached him and everyone close by.
Lady Lilly, who was standing between Daphne and Alice, turned and winked at Daphne. “I apologize. My brother has this terrible habit of interfering at the worst possible moments, wouldn’t you agree, Alice?”
“Your brother is a damned nuisance.” Alice reached for another glass of ratafia, her third for the evening. Ambrose shook his head. He didn’t wish to intervene between Foxton and Alice, but if their bickering continued, it might well harm Alice’s chances of marrying.
His sister looked at Lady Lilly and then Daphne and asked, “Well, ladies, is it time we retreat to spinster seating?”
Now was his chance. He reached out and caught Daphne’s elbow as she turned to follow Alice and Lady Lilly. She froze and inhaled sharply.
No time to waste. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “May I have this dance?”
She turned to face Ambrose. “I’ve already declined two lovely offers from gentlemen tonight. It would be a faux pas beyond the pale on my part if I agreed to take a turn about the floor with you this eve.”
Jealousy blazed through his thoughts and negated all his well-intended plans. “How about a stroll in the gardens?”
“Are you trying to cause a scandal?”
“If it results in you meeting me at the altar, then yes.” Their conversation was the exact opposite of what he’d imagined.
“Still on the hunt for an heiress, are you?”
Damn the woman’s cutting wit. He placed a hand on the small of her back and urged her forward.
“Where are we going?” Daphne demanded.
He could at least try to be accommodating. He closed the gap between them and whispered, “Your choice: dance floor, library, or the hot house.”
Daphne dug her heels in and whirled around to face him. “Ambrose Kirkman. I will not be forced to marry. Not by you, my parents, and definitely not by some scheme concocted by Lady Osbourne.”
He loved how her cheeks flushed and her lips pursed when she was angry.
Refocused, he asked, “Very well, if you won’t be coerced, then will you marry me willingly?”
Daphne’s lips twitched. She was trying hard not to smile but the corners of her lips gave way and curved into a grin. “You owe me an apology.”
“I owe you more than one.” Ambrose took her hand and weaved them through the crowd and was saved by the supper bell. “Will you grant me the pleasure of dining with you this eve?”
“If you can find us a seat that might afford us some privacy.”
“I shall not fail you this time.” He led her into the grand ballroom arranged with large round tables and some smaller square tables. He spied the perfect spot in the corner and weaved a path between the milling guests before anyone else could claim the seats.
Seated next to Daphne rather than opposite her, Ambrose leaned in and said, “If you had chosen the hot house, we could discuss matters more openly.”
“This will suffice.”
Her curt replies were like daggers to his heart, but he had to persist. He rested his arms upon the table and interlocked his fingers. He was ready for her to commence her interrogation.
Daphne glanced at his hands. “Prayers won’t help you now.”
Ambrose forced a chuckle to escape. He was a bundle of nerves, but he couldn’t forgo this opportunity to explain matters. “I’m prepared to do whatever necessary in order to convince you of how much I love you.”
“I don’t doubt your love for me. However, I felt betrayed when I discovered you were to meet with Madame Sinclair.”
The hurt he recognized in her gaze tore at his heart. He needed to reciprocate her open honesty with his own confession but the lump in his throat prevented him from replying. He dropped his gaze to the table and said, “Please accept my sincere apologies. My intention was never to hurt you. Pray let me explain.” He forced himself to meet her gaze. When she nodded, he continued, “I have never shared a bed with a woman, nor do I intend to unless she is my wife. I only wished to gain information from the madam. I wanted to…”
Daphne glanced about the room and then leaned in closer to complete his sentence. “To be prepared. I understand.”
Inches away from her, his heart thudded in his chest. She understood him like no other would.
Daphne shifted and straightened in her seat placing more space between them than he liked. She let out a sigh and said, “After reading Madame Sinclair’s note, it dawned on me that your meeting with the woman was not that different from me prying details out of Sue.”
Relief that she wasn’t cross at him was quickly replaced with panic. “You have been in correspondence with Madame Sinclair?”
A slight frown appeared briefly and then quickly disappeared as Daphne replied, “Lady Archbroke facilitated the delivery of a missive from your instructor.”
“There was no instruction, merely an exchange of information.” He turned and reached out to cup her hands in his. “I swear.”
Daphne smiled and said, “There’s no need for you to worry so. I believe you.” She dropped her gaze to their hands. “I’ve known about your…”
“Inexperience?”
She shook her head. “Your desire to wait until marriage. I wanted to help. Ease things by gaining knowledge on the subject. After our kiss, I thought we could discover and learn together. But upon reflecting on events, I realize my eagerness to share what I’d learnt from Sue placed you at a disadvantage.”
Her confession touched his heart. “I think you had the right of it, but I mucked it all up by not trusting… by not communicating… by not following my heart.”
Daphne lifted her eyes to his. “I love you.”
“I love you.” He pushed back his chair and fell to one knee. “Lady Daphne, will you marry me?”
Daphne nodded and smiled. “Yes.”
He jumped up and turned to address everyone in the room. “She said yes! Lady Daphne has agreed to marry me.”
A round of applause went up in the air. Ambrose presented his hand for Daphne, and as soon as her hand was in his and she was standing, he set off for the hot house. The grand gesture he had decided upon required privacy.