“I did not mean to ignore you, Lord Veltroy.” Daphne lowered her spoon. “I must confess that I was lost in thought and failed to hear your question.”
He gave a warm smile, fine lines crinkling around his brown eyes. “That is quite all right, my dear.” Lord Veltroy's wrinkled face lit up with genuine curiosity as he leaned forward in his high-backed chair.
He was a kind old man and, no doubt, only trying to make polite conversation. Daphne gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, and to answer your question, I do plan to take up residence in the city.”
Having no wish to continue the conversation, Daphne returned to pretending that she was, indeed, enjoying her soup. Before long, she heard Lord Veltroy chatting with the woman seated on his other side.
Daphne bit her lip, steeling herself as she snuck a glance at Alex. He was staring down into his steaming bowl of soup with a furrowed brow and what looked like grief darkening the circles under his eyes. When he caught her looking, their gaze locked and an intensity passed between them that made her stomach lurch. She read something in him that surprised her—a hurt close to her own, it seemed. But in the same instant, she reminded herself that he had offered no more than a life as his mistress. Contempt rose in her throat as her appetite vanished.
“Daphne, dear,” Lady Chesterfield said.
Daphne glanced up the expanse of the table to where Lady Chesterfield sat, holding a crystal wine glass.
Lady Chesterfield looked Daphne up and down as if searching for something. “Are you unwell? You look a bit pale,” she said, her voice laden with concern.
Daphne winced slightly, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “I fear I have a bit of a headache,” she said softly. “May I be excused?”
“Yes, of course. I will have a tonic sent up.”
How Daphne wished a tonic could cure her, but deep down she knew only time could mend her ailment. She waited for a servant to pull out her chair then left the room with measured strides, resisting the urge to run.
Closing the door behind her, she kicked off her shoes and let out a deep sigh. She stumbled to her bed, where she collapsed onto the mattress in a heap of tears. Her shoulders shook as she processed the range of emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface: grief for possibilities never explored, despair for what was and what could have been.
A knock came at the door, gentle yet persistent. Daphne ignored it, pulling the blankets tighter around her body. The door opened and Rebecca stepped inside, her slim figure silhouetted in the doorway. She took a few slow steps forward until she spotted Daphne, huddled at the edge of the bed. “Daphne?” Rebecca said as she sat down next to her.
Unable to shut off her emotions, Daphne sobbed harder and shook her head.
“Oh, dear,” Rebecca said, her voice soothing, “what has happened?”
Daphne cradled her face in the crook of her arm. “I fell in love with Alex.” She sniffled, a fresh wave of tears cresting her eyes.
Rebecca handed her a handkerchief then wrapped a comforting arm around her. “That may not be such a terrible thing.”
"Oh, it is. I assure you," Daphne said between sobs as she blotted her eyes with the embroidered handkerchief. "He asked me to be his mistress. The rogue has no desire to marry. He only wishes to play with me like a child's toy then forget about me once he grows bored."
“I am certain you are wrong.” Rebecca patted Daphne’s hand. “He has been nearly intolerable of late. Moody and depressed. He even snapped at Camden yesterday. His heart is hurting. I recognize the pain in his eyes.”
“I do not believe it.” Daphne shook her head. "If he is upset it is only because he did not get his way."
"But it is true." Rebecca said, her gaze sincere. “I would not mislead you. Alex loves you. He just has not realized it yet, or he is too afraid to admit it. I am not sure which is true. Perhaps both. But I recognize the signs. Camden does, too. Alex is heartbroken.”
Daphne's shoulders slumped as she wiped away her tears. “I cannot allow myself to hope. My heart cannot withstand anymore hurt.” She sniffled. “I just can't.”
"There, there." Rebecca offered a sympathetic look as she patted Daphne's arm. “Do you want me to speak with him?”
Daphne shook her head, her heart heavy with sadness. “Please do not say anything. If we were fated for one another, he would know it. He would not let me go.”
Rebecca gently stroked Daphne's hair and whispered, "Sometimes, the brain is the last to know when the heart has found its match. Do not lose hope, Daphne."
Daphne managed a wobbly smile then doubled over with a gut-wrenching sob, burying her head in Rebecca’s shoulder.
Rebecca hugged Daphne paying no mind to the tears staining her gown. “Everything will work out in the end. Have faith. You will see.”
A part of Daphne desperately wanted to believe Rebecca’s words—especially the ones about Alex—but she did not dare. There was no future for them. She had known it from the very start and had no one save for herself to blame for her current state.
Fourteen
In the weeks following his confrontation with Daphne, Alex buried himself in hard work. He spent the first day barking orders and complaints at the builders until Camden interfered. After that, he found jobs of his own to take his aggression out on. Three days later, his mood was no better, and last evenings dinner party only added to his unease, anger, aggravation—hell, he did not know what he was feeling anymore.
