In the wee hours of the morning, Daphne tiptoed from the parlor, careful not to wake Alex from his slumber. She went to her bedchamber, washing away evidence of the night's events in a hot bath before she dressed, pulling her long blonde hair into a neat bun.
As the sun crested the horizon, she mounted her horse and rode for the village. With the stroke of a pen she closed the account Alex had opened for her and Henry.
By mid-afternoon, she sat at her writing desk, attempting to find the words to convey her jumbled thoughts. She tapped the end of her quill against the rough texture of the paper, her mind spinning with thoughts about Alex. She had no wish to bring hurt upon him and was exceedingly grateful for what he had done for her and Henry. Still, she could not accept his generosity. Certainly not now that she had come to care for him.
She closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she realized the truth of what she was feeling. No, it wasn't just care that she had for him - it was love. No matter how hard she'd tried to avoid it, somehow her heart had found its way into his hands. There was no turning back now. He owned her heart and she could not simply demand it back. All she could do was set him free and hope, that in time, her heart would heal.
She crumbled the parchment in her fist, then tossed it into the wastebasket. That had been her second attempt and the words still rang hollow and harsh. A fresh tear pricked her right eye and she dashed it away before taking pen to paper once more.
My dearest Lord Brunsford,
Your kindness and generosity where Henry is concerned warms my heart. Though I must insist upon returning your astonishing gift, I will always be grateful for what you did. In addition to returning the funds, I must also insist upon ending our wager, as well as our association once and for all.
Though I shall always look upon the moments we shared with fondness, I must recognize the fruitlessness of it all. There is no future for us.
We have been courting ruin and cannot expect our luck to continue. I would not wish to trap you in marriage, any more than I wish to damage my own reputation. Don't you see that neither of us can win? It is best for us to put these weeks behind us and move on with our lives.
Fondly,
D
She smoothed the wrinkled paper between her fingers, tracing the looping letters as though committing them to memory. Her heart thumped in her chest, each beat a reminder of the impossibility of their situation. But despite the crushing weight of it all, she refused to falter. Alex would never make an honest woman of her, and she could not bear the thought of being his mistress. She would not put Henry, Alex, or herself in a situation that would bring shame or unhappiness to any one of them.
Daphne folded the parchment, her heart aching more with each passing moment. She dripped a dollop of hot wax onto it, then pressed her seal into the wax. With trembling hands, she rang for a footman, pacing anxiously until one appeared.
The servant bowed low as she shoved the letter into his hands, "Deliver this to Lord Brunsford straightaway. He can be found at Almerry."
“Yes, Ma’am.” The footman turned, quick on his heels, and hurried out of sight.
Daphne slowly lowered herself into a nearby armchair, its soft velvet cushion enveloping her as she curled up in a tight ball. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her shoulders shook with each gasp of air as she cried. She stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, allowing all of her sadness and despair to flow out.
“Whatever is the matter?” Phoebe’s sing-song voice broke through Daphne’s melancholy.
Daphne lifted her head, dashing moisture from her cheeks. She could not say how long she’d been sobbing, but the sun now sagged low in the sky. She drew in a shaky breath, and answered. “I found myself overwhelmed is all.” She forced a weak smile. "There is no need for concern."
"Rubbish," Phoebe said as she crouched down beside Daphne, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I am a wonderful listener if you would like someone to share your burdens with."
Daphne nibbled at her lower lip, contemplating. Maybe she should confide in Phoebe. Her sister-in-law had always been a source of comfort as well as a reliable confidante. At the same time, Daphne was not certain she could put voice to her sorrow.
Writing that letter had gutted her. What would happen if she attempted to speak of what had happened? She might fall apart completely.
“Perhaps some tea?” Phoebe asked, brushing her fingertips up and down Daphne’s arm in a soothing gesture.
Daphne swallowed, her throat so dry it pained her. “Thank you,” She forced the words out. "Tea would be lovely."
Phoebe smiled at her, then stood. “I will see to it at once.”
Without a word, Phoebe filled two steaming cups of tea and settled into the chair beside Daphne. She offered a gentle smile, her eyes brimming with compassion as she brought the cup to her lips.
Daphne held the hot cup of tea close to her chest, the steam rising and curling around her face. She stared out at the gray sky from the chamber window as she thought through all that had happened.
In the end, she came to the same conclusion she had last night. She could no longer dally with Alex, and she must find a husband henceforth.
Daphne glanced over at Phoebe, who was perched regally on the armchair, a dainty teacup and saucer in her hands. The warm concern she saw in Phoebe's hazel eyes made Daphne's heart swell. She managed to muster a faint smile and said, “I think I am ready to re-marry.”
“Oh, Daphne. I know how hard that decision must be for you. It is no wonder you were out of sorts.” Phoebe set her teacup down and slid closer to Daphne. “You know it is what Roland wished for you, and none of us would ever disparage you for doing so.”
“Yes, of course—”
