They continued their little dress-up for what seemed like forever, fussing over every small little detail. But by the end of it, they had truly transformed Daphne into a vision of beauty.
"Lovely," Felicity, the eldest of the four, marveled. "Just... lovely. Oh, she has grown into this lovely lady right in front of our eyes."
Daphne tried to turn back to get a glimpse of her own reflection, but was quickly chastised by Annie.
"Hold still," she urged, fussing with the hem of her dress. "Just let me fix this one last thing... and there! Perfect!"
Daphne sighed, finally glancing at her reflection in the mirror.
Perfect.
It wasn't a word she was sure she could ever live up to. But she wasn't about to let her sisters—or anyone else—see her doubts.
CHAPTER 2
Oh, Richard. Where are you?
Daphne had kept her fingers crossed the entirety of the carriage ride. Though she would never admit this to her sisters, she quietly hoped that a certain Lord was in attendance tonight at the ball.
Sure enough, when the sisters reached, Daphne felt like she was a woman on a mission. Amidst the soft music, the colorful rush of gowns, and the eager gentlemen in pursuit of a match, her own gaze was hopeful to land on the face that she thought of more times than she'd like to admit in the last forty-eight hours.
She couldn't help but feel a twinge of anticipation at seeing him again. It was one of the larger balls of the season, and surely a Lord like himself would be expected to be in attendance.
But as she weaved her way through the crowd, she found herself colliding with something—or rather, someone—far lesswelcoming. The impact sent her stumbling back a step, her hand instinctively clutching her skirts to steady herself.
"My apolo–"
"Watch your step," a deep voice snapped at her. "You would have crashed into me, and caused injury to yourself."
Daphne's head shot up, her heart jolting not from the collision, but from the man standing before her.
He was tall—towering, in fact—with dark eyes that held a sharpness she didn't appreciate. He might even be taller than Richard, and she had thought of him as spectacularly tall. And he was so unrealistically handsome. Even with a frown on his face, she couldn't take her eyes away from him.
For a moment, she blinked.Had she met him before?His face felt familiar to her, but she could not place where exactly she knew him from.
His jaw tightened, his expression hard with annoyance as if he were silently accusing her of being entirely at fault for the collision.
"Me?" she shot back without thinking. "It takes two to collide. I was not the one walking in a rush. Perhaps you should learn to heed your own advice, my lord."
Daphne had not intended to get herself into a squabble this evening – especially so early. But something about the way that this man looked at her invited her to abandon the lady-like mannerisms she had promised to hold onto tonight. His tone alone infuriated her, as though he was speaking to someone beneath him.
"I see," his lips curled into a condescending smile, "So the lady wishes to walk as she pleases, and expect others to part for her? Of course, I should have known."
Daphne gritted her teeth. "Youwere in my path."
"My lady, I do not wish to judge so hastily, but if this encounter is any indication how you go about life, then I must say that I feel quite sorry for those who have to be in your company. Do you always expect others to pick your pieces behind you?"
The nerve of him. He was provoking her.
"I beg your pardon? If anything, you were standing directly in the path!"
The tension between them crackled, the air thick with their barely contained irritation. What a pity for such a handsome face to hide such an arrogant personality.
The man let out a low, disbelieving laugh.
"Typical."
"Typical?" Daphne pressed, growing more irritated by the moment. "How are you to know what is typical, and what is not? You have only met me a moment ago."
