Without thought, Marcus slammed his tumbler down, turned, and propelled himself toward the pond. Ashe had no business with her. The man was a bigger rogue than he with next to no moral compass. His intentions could not be honorable. They never were. Further, the man had no qualms about ruining innocent women. In his view, if the woman was willing she wasn’t so innocent.
Fury burned within Marcus as he stepped back into the cold night. He had to warn Daphne—had to save her from Ashe.
He drew in a deep breath as he stopped through the snow. She wouldn’t truly take advantage of Bradford’s relation. The man may be without honor where ladies were concerned, but he valued his friends. Besides, Ashe had to know that they’d throttle him if he ruined any one of the ladies in residence.
Marcus relaxed a measure, though the need to warn Daphne still sat heavy in his mind. Ashe may not ruin her, but he may well leave her broken-hearted. She did not deserve to be toyed with. He caught sight of her near the opposite side of the frozen pond. Forgoing his skates, Marcus slid across the icy surface on the soles of his boots.
“Lady Rosamond,” He called after her.
Daphne turned toward him, her eyes widening a fraction before she glanced back at Ashe.
Marcus stopped beside her, his pulse hammering. “I need to speak with you.”
“I’m busy at present.” She looked from him to Ashe. “Mr. Ashe is regaling me with tales of his youth.”
Marcus’s jaw ticked as he studied his friend. He’d wager Ashe was amusing himself by playing with her emotions. He’d charm her for the duration of the house party then never pay her mind again. The idea rankled, causing Marcus’s anger to burn hotter. “I’m certain Mr. Ashe will not object to my stealing you away.”
Marcus met Ashe’s gaze with a glaring stare. “Would you?”
“Of course not.” Ashe lifted Daphne’s hand to his mouth then placed a kiss over her glove covered knuckles. “Until next we meet, My Lady.”
Daphne blushed, a sweet smile tugging at her lips. “My Lord.”
Marcus pressed his lips together and balled his fists at his sides. He wanted to pummel Ashe. To call him out and demand he leave Daphne alone. Perhaps he should do that very thing.
“Is something the matter?” Worry laced Daphne’s voice as she laid a hand on his shoulder.
He turned back to her, his anger giving way to her touch. “I’m worried about you.”
“Me? Why?” A line crossed her forehead as she stared back at him, confusion swimming in her gaze.
He pondered his next words for a moment not exactly sure how to convey his fears. He couldn’t very well tell her how Ashe used woman then discarded them. One simply did not speak to ladies about such things. He had to formulate a more delicate way of conveying his meaning.
“I assure you, I’m quite well.” Daphne removed her hand from his shoulder.
Marcus shook his head. “Ashe is not for you.”
A slight grin tilted her lips. “You think I have romantic inclinations toward Mr. Ashe?”
“You have been spending quite a bit of time with him.”
Daphne stepped closer—to close, for Marcus nearly took her on his arms.
She shook her head a decided sadness clouding her eyes. “I’ve given my heart to another so you needn’t worry about that.”
He stopped himself from asking who she’d gifted her heart to. The answer shone in her blue gaze and sizzled in her touch. His fingers twitched with the need to pull her against him—to claim her—but he could not.
Instead, he averted his gaze and swallowed past the tightness in his throat.
“Marcus?”
He turned back to her, the expectant look in her eyes tugging at his heart, and said, “Goodnight, Daphne.”
Appearing crestfallen, she nodded. “Goodnight.”
Rather than sliding across the pond on his boots, Marcus stepped onto the snow-covered ground at the edge of the pond. As he made his way around the skaters, he pondered what Daphne had said as well as what she’d left unsaid. Perhaps he only imagined that she’d meant him. Maybe she had fallen in love with someone else entirely.
He could only hope that was the truth of it, and that the lucky gentleman deserved her love.
