"It is alright," Daphne said, getting up from her place of sitting. Her voice sounded tired, despite getting a full night of sleep. "I think I am prepared enough."
After all, what difference did it make about her appearance looking perfectly polished if she felt the only dread inside?
"You look wonderful, My Lady. Lord Richard is a lucky man, indeed," the maid said.
"Thank you," Daphne tried hard to contort her wince into a smile. But it ended up looking like a strange combination of the two. And then she lowered her voice down to a whisper, one that only she could hear. "I suppose I must get it over with."
When she arrived downstairs, Lord Richard was waiting for her in the drawing room. Next to it, her sisters had lined up, eyeing her with anticipation and curiosity.
"Good luck, my dear."
"I am sure you'll return with good tidings."
"I shall begin preparations soon!"
Daphne ignored them, and steadied herself before entering the drawing room.
"Ah, Lady Daphne," Richard stood up to greet her. "Lovely to finally meet you again."
Daphne feigned a smile, even though the sight of him did not muster any kind of excitement inside of her.
"Lord Richard," she curtsied politely, "I hope that your journey here was well, and without trouble."
"Ah, yes, yes. It was, please take a seat," he said, gesturing to the space next to him. Reluctantly, she sat down and immediately busied herself with the fidgeting of her fingers.
Stop that.Ambrose's voice sounded out in her head, and she nearly jumped. Truly, there was no escaping him. Even the most mundane things had now become associated with him. It was as though he had permanently etched himself into her memory.
Like how you brand cattle – marked for life.
Richard shifted uncomfortably, and it dawned on her that perhaps this was just as nerve wracking for him as it was for her.
"Lady Daphne," he began, rubbing the back of his neck, "I know you must be wondering why I called on you this afternoon. I... well.. I was.."
Daphne wondered if she should interject to make him feel more at ease, as he clearly seemed to be struggling with his words. But her own heartrate had sped, her fidgeting exacerbated.
"I was hoping to speak to you about something."
Amatter of great urgence,as he had called it. "What is it, My Lord?" she said, slowly. A knot formed in her stomach as she anticipated what was coming.
"I've been thinking," Richard continued, his eyes not quite meeting hers. "We've spent a considerable amount of timetogether recently, and... well, I have always thought highly of you."
Don't say it, please. For heaven's sake, don't say it.Daphne shot him a worried look, but then replaced with a smile, not wanting to look ungrateful.
He paused, then cleared his throat, "Perhaps you already have an inkling about what I am about to say to you next. You are a smart woman, of course."
Daphne had always taken pride in her intelligence. But at this moment, she almost wished she was as daft as tree bark, so that she could avoid this moment altogether. Blissful ignorance, as they say.
"And so... well, my mother has been quite adamant about the... matter of marriage," he continued, "I was fortunate enough to spend some time with you at the house party, and I believe that she quite likes you as well. And so..."
He stumbled on his words again, and Daphne drew her hands into a fist so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"And so... I believe that we would make for a good match," he was out of breath as he finished the sentence, only to be met with silence. "Wouldn't you agree?"
Daphne looked up at him, and blinked slowly. "In marriage?" she nearly choked out the words.
What is wrong with you?She chided herself. This was what she had wanted all this time – a proposal from Richard. But now that the moment had arrived, she felt as though she would rather beanywherethan here.
"Yes, in marriage," he replied, "I suppose what I am asking you here is that would you like to marry me?"
