CHAPTER 25
Ambrose did not make it to breakfast the next morning. But he had a feeling that the Dowager would not mind, for he had decided to embark on a far more significant journey.
He hadn't slept. The idea that Daphne could be leaving, possibly for good, filled him with an unbearable urgency. He had to see her. He had to speak to her, tell her everything, before it was too late. So as the first light of dawn filtered through his window, he made his decision.
He rode hard, faster than he had in years, his heart pounding in rhythm with the hooves of his horse as they thundered across the countryside. When he arrived at Daphne's estate, he barely took the time to dismount.
"Is Lady Daphne here?" he asked the servant who stood at the gate.
"Your Grace," the man straightened up immediately, "The family is not at home. They left at noon."
His heart sank. Could it be that he had already been too late?
"Where are they?" he demanded.
The servant hesitated for a moment, glancing around nervously before answering. "They have gone to the park, Your Grace. Lady Daphne, her sisters, and their husbands often take walks there in the afternoons."
Ambrose didn't wait for further details. He turned sharply, mounting his horse, and spurred it forward before the servant could say another word – a strange mixture of both relief and nervousness consuming him. Relief that at least she had not left yet, and nervousness that he was going to have to confront his own feelings.
Ambrose's heart was pounding as he arrived at the park, his horse panting from the speed he had pushed it to.
Daphne, where are you?
He knew that this might be his last opportunity. He had to find her. His gaze darted around the park. It was not as busy as usual, which was perfect as it made looking for her not so difficult. He walked around frantically in search of her, until finally...
There she was, standing with her sisters and their husbands. The sisters seemed to be busy in conversations with their husbands, but Daphne kept to herself. It was the first time he was seeing her since the house party, and the sight alone made his heart leap out in his throat.
"Lady Daphne," he called out to her, his legs carrying him over to where they stood faster than they ever had.
Hearing him approach, their conversation died down immediately. Several pairs of eyes were on him now, but he did not care for any of them. All he noticed was the way Daphne's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him.
For a moment, Ambrose's gaze met hers. There was confusion in her eyes, maybe even shock. But he also saw the hint of something else—something more fragile, like the vulnerability of someone who had been hurt. It pained him to see it, and it only fueled his resolve.
"Lady Daphne," Ambrose started again, "I need to speak with you."
Daphne blinked, as if she could believe what was happening. "Y...Your Grace, I.." she glanced around at her sisters, who seemed equally confused by his sudden presence.
"We must speak," he stressed. His voice conveyed an urgency that he had never before communicated to her, or anyone else.
Daphne's mouth opened, but she hesitated. Her sisters, sensing her unease, immediately stepped in, forming a shield around her.
"I don't think now is the time, Your Grace," Felicity said, her tone polite but firm. "We're having a family outing."
"Yes, perhaps another time," Joyce added, apologetically.
"I do not think you understand. It is important that I speak to Lady Daphne right now," Ambrose came across more demanding than he intended to. Of course, it was only a way to mask the desperation with which he needed to speak to her but it had the opposite effect.
Daphne pursed her lips, and then shook her head. "Your Grace, I believe that you said enough the last time we spoke."
Her words felt like a punch to his gut. He had already hurt her too much, and now she did not even want to see what he had to say. But before Ambrose could respond, her sisters were already moving to take her away. Annie looped her arm through Daphne's and gently began guiding her in the opposite direction, away from him.
"No," he said, rushing to follow them but he had barely made it two steps when Felicity's husband stepped in front of him.
"Your Grace," he firmly held up his hand, "I believe that the Lady said she does not wish to speak with you at this moment. It would be best if you adhere to her wishes."
Ambrose was not one to resort to fighting. But for Daphne, he would knocked anyone off his path if it meant that he could get to her. But out of respect to her sisters, he refrained himself from doing so.
Daphne was getting further and further away, her silhouette growing smaller as she was shielded by her sisters.
