Hope.
With her next words, Lady Rutherford shattered that fragile bubble. “Which certainly explains his request that you join him in the courtyard.”
“The courtyard,” she repeated vacantly. “Like a hanging?”
The marchioness burst out laughing, and before Daria knew what she intended, the generous-hearted woman swept Daria into her arms. “Without a doubt, he’d have seen it that way before. Married to you now, Daria, I believe Argyll is about to have an entire new outlook on life.”
“I don’t understand, Lady—?”
“You are to call me Faith, as we are now sister.” Lady Rutherford slipped her arm through Daria’s. “Now, come along.”
And so, Daria went along.
The carriage wheels rattling along the smoothest cobblestones of London marked the way to…
A place she did not know.
On account he’d blindfolded her.
Also, on account that he hadn’t spoken to her.
Strangely enough, the soft silken covering he’d tied about her head had a calming effect. In the hush of the carriage, the steadyclump-clump-clopof the team’s hooves against the cobblestones and the sound of her own breathing created an odd sense of peace.
As she saw it, there was one of only two options—she was about to meet her end. Or he was having their marriage annulled and return her home.
Both seemed equally awful.
But why blindfold her?
Daria worried the edge of her nail between her teeth.
Perhaps it was his way of delivering what he thought would be a desired gift—bring her back to the Kearsleys.
“Are you at all curious, wife.”
Daria jumped.
That he could sound so genial about the end of their time together struck.
“I expect that is the point of blindfolds and secrecy,” she said, her voice somehow even.
“It will all be answered soon.”
The husked, ominous quality of his voice sent her heart into a quicker rhythm. Whatever calm she’d found evaporated. She bit harder at her finger.
There came the faintest whisper of air.
She gasped as strong, warm fingers closed around her wrist.
“Here, now,” Gregory murmured, the timbre of his baritone soft and soothing—like warm chocolate poured slowly over her nerves.
She felt a gentle tug at the back of her head. Then the blindfold was gone.
Daria blinked against the sudden rush of light, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them again, slowly. Gregory leaned forward on the deep blue velvet bench; her hand cradled between both of his larger ones.
She swallowed.
Warmth seeped through his touch. With the pad of his thumb, he stroked back and forth along the length of her index finger.
