For a brief moment, their eyes met, and the tension between them shifted, becoming something else entirely. Ambrose's features softened, and for the first time, Daphne saw something other than irritation in his eyes.
Daphne forced a thick swallow, suddenly very aware of how close the both of them were.
"I..."
"What is it?" he prodded, "Where has your sharp tongue gone?"
He had stood up now, but never once took his gaze off her.
And then, he leaned in towards her. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her head started to spin. Suddenly, the world around her seemed to blur.
They were close, far too close. Her eyes dropped to his lips, and noticed that he was doing the same.
Inch by inch, both of them leaned closer to each other – almost as if they were about to...
A sound in the distance broke the moment, the snap of a branch, and Daphne jumped slightly, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Daphne!" Richard's voice echoed through the trees and they both jerked apart.
"Daphne! Are you hurt? What happened?"
Richard came rushing over, his face full of concern as he skidded to a stop beside Daphne. His hands hovered, unsure of where to touch without causing her further discomfort. His worry was palpable, his brow furrowed deeply.
Daphne stole a glance at Ambrose, who stood nearby, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The worry that had once dominated his features was now masked beneath a stern façade. She quickly looked back to Richard, feeling slightly disoriented by the moment.
How strange, she thought.This is exactly what I wanted. For Richard to care, to show concern. And yet... now that he is, it doesn't feel like I imagined it would.
In fact, if anything, it almost feels like heinterruptedsomething between herself and Ambrose. She chided herself for thinking that way, and turned her attention to Richard.
Theonlyman she should be paying any attention to.
"I'm fine, truly," she said finally, trying to soothe him more than anything.
"I thought something awful had happened to you," he continued.
"I was only lost," she smiled but it did little to defuse the tension. "I suppose my horse got tired, and decided that he needed a break – whether I liked it or not."
"You should ride with me," Richard insisted, glancing back at her horse, which was still too skittish to be of use. "I can't let you risk riding alone after that fall."
Daphne hesitated, her gaze shifting instinctively to Ambrose again. She didn't know why she looked to him, why his opinion in this moment mattered at all, but it did. And when she did, she caught it—a flicker of something in his eyes. Ambrose's jaw tightened, and his grip on his forearm shifted slightly, as if he was about to say something. But in the blink of an eye, he masked it again, his expression cool and collected once more.
Was that... irritation?Jealousy?
No, it couldn't be. Daphne should know better than to think that. He likely thought that they were wasting his time, and wanted to return to the Estate at the earliest.
Still, she could not help but steal yet another glance in his direction. This time, he avoided her gaze.
"What has happened to your arm?" Richard asked, suddenly alarmed. "Is that blood?"
Ambrose shrugged, dismissing it as he had done before. "It is nothing."
Daphne waited for Richard to say something more, but he seemed to take his brother's explanation at face value and did not push.
Was it always like this?She found herself wondering. The Duke did a good job at appearing as though he could withstand anything, perhaps his family had just grown used to it.
It made her concern for him grow. She knew that those that never asked for help somehow always needed it the most.
"It is not nothing," she interjected, against herself. "He managed to injure himself on his way here. It was bleeding quite heavily."
