“No,” Daphne lied, unwilling to embarrass herself further by sharing last night’s events. It would do no good to reveal her foolishness to Natalie or Pippa.
The carriage swayed as it turned into the drive before jerking to a stop before the house. Daphne pushed the wool blanket from her lap and collected her reticule while they waited for the footman to assist them from the carriage.
“We’ll continue our lessons in your room. Just give us a little while to freshen up.” Natalie gave Daphne a pointed look.
Daphne attempted to stifle a yawn. The day had left her exhausted and desperately wanting a nap. "Might we wait until you come to help me ready for the musical? I'm dreadfully tired."
“Perfect.” Pippa nodded her head in a matter of fact gesture. “I am quite certain my husband is awaiting me. He’ll be cross if I do not spend some time in his company after being away all afternoon.”
“A nap with Christian does sound pleasing.” Natalie gave a teasing grin. “Though I doubt we’ll sleep.”
Daphne’s eyes widened at the scandalous words. “Natalie.” She shook her head in admonishment.
Her cousin’s vibrant laughter bounced around the carriage. “Do stop being such a prude.”
Pippa sighed, turning a reproachful gaze on Natalie. “Truly, Natalie, she is an innocent. We ought to keep our corruption to a minimum.”
“Oh very well.” Natalie rose as the footman opened the carriage door. One by one he handed them down before closing it again.
Daphne pulled her cloak tight against the cold winter air as she mounted the porch steps. The warmth of her bed would be most welcome indeed. As well as the escape that sleep would provide her.
Tonight would be soon enough to fret over kisses.
Chapter 6
Marcus leaned against the floor to ceiling window frame as he watched Daphne play the harp. Her skilled fingers worked the strings sending pleasing music through the space and for a moment he wondered what it would feel like to be caressed by her. Gooseflesh erupted on his arms and the nape of his neck at the thought of her soft flesh stroking his.
“Clarendon, it’s been quite some time.” The Duke of Sheridan approached with Bradford at his side.
Marcus gave a bow. “It is a pleasure to be back in your home, Your Grace.”
The duke gave a jovial grin. “My duchess out does herself for the holiday festivities.”
Marcus had spent many a Christmastide at Harrington Gardens as his own family did not go out of their way to make the holidays special. But then, considering that the duke and duchess always held a grand celebration, he supposed his parents had no reason to. Given their close proximity as well as their friendship with the Duke and Duchess of Sheridan, his family would be foolish to try and compete.
Marcus returned the aging man’s smile. “That she does.”
The duke brought his hand to his mouth to cover a cough.
Bradford clapped his hand on his father’s back. “Perhaps some water?”
Marcus’s gaze drifted back to Daphne. Her golden tresses had been styled differently tonight, left to flow over her shoulder in shiny waves rather than gathered tightly at the nape of her neck. She’d had it loose in the kitchen as well and he rather liked it that way.
“Water would be good,” the duke said. He sat in a chair near the window before addressing Marcus again. “My niece is a vision tonight. Is she not?”
Marcus stiffened, returning his gaze to the duke. Bloody hell, he’d been caught ogling her. “Indeed.”
The duke’s gaze took on a decided sparkle as he turned his attention toward Daphne. “She’d blossomed into a fine young woman. Affluent, kind, and pretty. All she requires now is a husband.”
Marcus nearly chocked when the duke turned expectant eyes on him.
The duke raised on bushy grey eyebrow. “You are of the age to marry. Perhaps the two of you would suit?”
"Though the lady is lovely, I'm in no hurry to take a wife, Your Grace." Marcus tugged at his cravat finding it suddenly too tight. He was captivated by Daphne, intrigued, to say the least, but certainly not marriage minded. She'd simply taken him by surprise with her request in the kitchen and by how much her looks had evolved since he'd last paid her mind.
“Mores-the-pity, for I don’t believe she will remain unwed for long,” the duke said. Another cough raked his body causing his shoulders to rise and fall in quick little successions.
Marcus studied the man for a long moment. His skin had a slight grey tone and his eyes reflected a wariness he’d not noticed before. He had the sinking feeling that water alone would not cure the duke. “Is the anything I can do for you, Your Grace?”
