"I don't know," he admitted quietly, though even as he said it, he knew it wasn't entirely true. He did care for Daphne—more than he wanted to. More than he should.
"Well, you clearly feel something," Benedict said, “Otherwise you would not be here, running away from her.”
Ambrose did not reply, but Benedict continued on regardless.
“And if I am being frank, then I have never seen you like this before. You don't talk about her like she's just another woman. You talk about her like she's the one you can't get out of your head. And trust me, Ambrose, that's not something you can ignore."
Ambrose rubbed a hand over his face, the exhaustion finally catching up to him. "It's not like I wanted this to happen. This whole thing started only because I wished to prove to my brother that she is unfit for marriage.”
Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Benedict cracked an amused smile. “And then you ended up falling for her in the process? It would be quite romantic, if it was not so ironic.”
Ambrose shot him a glare. “There is no romance.”
“Yet.” Benedict laughed. "Things don't always go the way we want. But if she's worth thinking about this much, then she's worth confronting your feelings for. Hiding from it is only going to make it worse."
Ambrose remained silent, his mind racing with thoughts of Daphne. She wasn't like anyone else. She challenged him, frustrated him, intrigued him in ways no one else ever had. But she was also dangerous—dangerous to his carefully constructed life, dangerous to his relationship with his brother.
And yet...
Benedict's voice broke through his thoughts. "You can't run forever, Ambrose. Eventually, you're going to have to face it."
"She's unlike anyone I've ever known," Ambrose said finally, his voice low but steady. "She's stubborn, infuriating at times. But she's also... she's brilliant. And I can't get her out of my mind."
"Sounds like you've got it bad, my friend."
Ambrose shook his head, "I..."
"Don't even try and deny it," Benedict replied. "You care about her. That much is clear. The question is, what are you going to do about it?"
Ambrose stared at the floor, the weight of Benedict's question pressing down on him. What was he going to do? He had spent so much time trying to avoid his feelings, trying to convince himself that they were a mistake, that he hadn't stopped to consider what would happen if he actually confronted them.
"I don't know what I'm going to do," Ambrose said quietly. "But you are right. Running away from it has not done me any good."
He was convinced that it would kill him.
Benedict clapped him on the shoulder, "That's the first step. You've admitted it. Now, you just have to figure out where to go from here. And if I know you..." a knowing smile played on his face, "you are a smart man. You shall have the answer in no time."
Ambrose felt a strange sense of clarity settle over him. He couldn't deny his feelings for Daphne any longer.
He would have to return to the estate, and settle this altogether. Even if it meant coming clean to his brother, or...
Daphne.
Somehow, the prospect of admitting that he kissed Daphne seemed a lot less intimidating than confessing to Daphne herself.
CHAPTER 21
The final night of the house party had arrived, and as Daphne stood in front of the mirror in her room, she felt an overwhelming sense of bittersweetness. The house party had been a mere week, but it had felt like an eternity—long enough to change everything, to upend the world she thought she knew so well.
As she stared into the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of her gown, her reflection did nothing to reassure her. A mere seven days ago, she had arrived at the estate with one goal in mind—to secure a future with Richard. But now...everything had changed.
"Oh, you look beautiful," Joyce remarked as she walked up behind Daphne. "You look like a proper Lady in that gown. I am sure that Richard will not be able to stop staring."
Daphne forced a smile. "Yes, I hope that he likes it."
"And perhaps...." Joyce trailed off, "perhaps you might catch the attention of the Duke as well."
"Oh," Daphne nearly jumped at the mention, "do you know if he has returned? From wherever he had disappeared off to?"
