It was... unsettling. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful or annoyed.
Lord Whitby did not utter a single word for the rest of the breakfast.
Instead, opting for a much more demure – and embarrassed — countenance. A marked contrast to his earlier glee at Daphne's expense, and she couldn't help but feel a small, guilty flicker of satisfaction.
As much as it pained her to admit, the Duke knew how to put someone in their rightful place. And for that, he at least deserved a word of gratitude from her side.
Stealing a glance in his direction, he saw him engaged in conversation with Lady Eugenia once again.
Not now, then. But perhaps later, she would like to speak to him.
Later in the evening, Joyce was helping Daphne prepare for tea time in the terrace in their chambers. She stood behind Daphne, carefully fastening the last of the delicate pearl buttons on her sister's gown.
"There," Joyce said, stepping back to admire her work. "You look lovely. Perfect for a little tea on the terrace."
She glanced at her sister in the reflection of the mirror, the question that had been gnawing at her since breakfast dancing on the tip of her tongue.
"Joyce," she began hesitantly, "can I ask you something?"
Joyce raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sister's tone. "Go ahead."
Daphne fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, trying to find the right words. "Have you ever... thought that someone might despise you, but then they do something kind, and it makes you question everything?"
The question had been gnawing at her since the Duke's intervention this morning at the breakfast table.
"Why do you ask? Did something happen?"
"Oh, no," she said quickly, waving a hand dismissively. "Nothing of the sort. I was only asking out of general curiosity." She could hardly tell Joyce about the morning's events—not when she herself was still trying to make sense of them.
"General curiosity?" she echoed, her tone carrying a hint of skepticism.
"Can you stop answering back with more questions?" Daphne said, impatiently.
Joyce chuckled, "Fair enough. I know better than to convince you to tell me something that you do not wish to. As far as your question goes..." Joyce paused for a moment, reflecting, "Well – I suppose it does not warrant such a simple answer."
"Try."
"People are complicated, you know," Joyce shrugged. "Oftentimes what appears on the surface is not what is truly intheir hearts. Perhaps this mystery person does not dislike you so much after all."
Daphne's cheeks warmed instantly. "Oh – this has nothing to do with me, Joyce. Do not be so ridiculous."
Her sister raised an amused eyebrow in her direction. "Does it not? Pray tell, what is it about then?"
"It is a book I am reading," Daphne lied. "One of the characters... he did something confusing. I was just wondering what your thoughts on the matter would be."
"If you say so, Daphne. If you say so," Joyce chuckled.
A gentle knock echoed through the room. Both sisters looked up, their conversation momentarily paused. One of the housemaids entered the room and curtsied.
"Begging your pardon, Lady Daphne," the maid began, "Lord Richard has requested to see you in the gardens."
"Oh?"
She hadn't expected Richard to call on her again so soon after their walk in the garden earlier. Her heart gave a small, nervous flutter, though not the sort of excitement one might expect before seeing a suitor. Instead, it felt more like... uncertainty.
"Well, thank you. Let the lord know that I shall join him in a moment."
The maid curtsied again and backed out of the room, leaving the two sisters in silence.
