"You deserve to be happy," Ambrose's tone softened. "And you will find that happiness with my brother."
His face twisted with pain as he said the words, and another stream of tears began to flow out of Daphne's eyes. Gently, he wiped them away, his touch lingering for just a fraction of a second more than it ought before he pulled away, and detached himself from him.
Once again, Daphne felt a profound loss when he did.
"I cannot give you a marriage, which you deserve to have," he continued. "I have decided not to marry, and it is a decision I made long before I ever met you. My brother can keep you happy in a way that I am unable to."
Daphne felt another fresh batch of tears come on. Now that he was finally giving her answers, she almost wished that he didn't for the truth was much more painful to bear.
"Why must you impose those limits on yourself?" she said through shaky breaths.
"You will not understand," he retreated slightly.
"And you will not explain either?" Daphne felt as though she was trying to hold on by a thread – the strength of it not enough to reel him back in when he had already made up his mind like this.
"I will stay out of your affairs, as I promised," he looked away, as though he dreaded the notion just as much as she did. "You will get married to my brother, and make a home with him, as you had always planned."
"And where will you go?" Daphne's tears were freefalling now, and she blinked rapidly to stop them from blurring her vision.
"Away for some time," he admitted. "As noble as I wish to be, it is difficult for me to see you with him. But he will look after you, I shall make sure of it."
"You have made up your mind, and nothing I say can change it?" Daphne mustered up the last of her strength to ask the question.
Their gaze met, Ambrose looked as though he might break, his resolve crumbling beneath the weight of her question.
"Sometimes, it is wise to look at the practicalities of life over our wishes," he gave her a smile but it was coated in sadness. "I wish you the very best."
Of all the things that Ambrose had said to her – all the taunts, all the insults, even the compliment he had given her when she had least expected it – this sentence had the most profound impact on her being. Even though he stood at a distance, it felt as though he had punched her in the gut, leaving her deflated.
He did not even wish to try. He hadrejectedher in no uncertain words.
Daphne steadied herself, swallowing her tears, "If that is what you truly want, Your Grace, then I shall no longer argue with you."
Ambrose noticed the sudden formality in her tone, and a pained expression crossed his face. But he made no effort to amend it.
"That would be for the best, Lady Daphne."
They exchanged one last glance – and Daphne wondered if this was to be the last time they saw each other for a long time. Thethought overwhelmed her, and even though she stood next to the trees under the nights sky, suddenly she felt as though she was suffocating.
"I..." she spluttered out, "I shall go inside now."
Without warning, she picked up her dress and scurried her away out of there, knowing that if she glanced back one last time, she would not be able to make herself leave again.
But there was no use for wishing or wanting anymore. He had made the decision of their future together, and the faster she came to accept it, the wiser it would be.
CHAPTER 22
Daphne stood at the top of the staircase, and watched as one of the house staff lugged her trunk down the stairs of the Estate. The young man gripped the handle of the oversized baggage, his face straining with the effort. He staggered slightly as he attempted to balance the weight of the trunk, his knees bending under the load.
Indeed, it was heavy. But the load in her heart felt heavier than anything that could fit into those trunks. Fingers gripping the wooden frame of the staircase, she exhaled a deep sigh.
The day had arrived when it was time to make her departure from the Estate.
"Daphne," Joyce called out from behind her, "Daphne?" her voice grew more impatient as she got closer.
"Yes?"
"I have been calling out for you, and you have stood ignoring me," Joyce lamented, her brow furrowing.
