Page 2 of Romancing Daphne

Daphne nodded. She knew of Adam’s reputation and that he had earned every ounce of it. She further knew that he had a kind and caring heart beneath it all. He would not, however, be happy to find her on the terrace, at odds with his instructions. He was very accustomed to being obeyed in everything.

“Fly away, Little Sparrow,” the young gentleman instructed.

“Please do not tell the duke I am out here.” Her words did not reach above a whisper—they seldom did.

“You are not actually in danger, are you?” Genuine concern touched his words.

“No, but he will be very put out with me.”

“I give you my word not to reveal your secret. And I assure you, a promise from James Tilburn” —a tip of his head told her the name was his own—“is as good as gold.”

She sensed that about him—that he could be trusted.“Thank you, sir.”

“You are quite welcome.” He offered the very briefest of bows and one final smile before slowly making his way back toward the center of the terrace.

Daphne watched him for one drawn-out moment.James Tilburn.Shecommitted the name to memory. James Tilburn, who thought her prettyand did not readily overlook her. James Tilburn, who called her Little Sparrow and spoke kindly to a young lady most dismissed on first glance.

He would not give her another thought. Indeed, he had probably already forgotten her. She, however, knew she would forever cherish the memory of him.

Daphne slipped into the empty book room and up the back staircase to her bedchamber, lost in her thoughts. She would likely find her mind wandering to him again and again over the days and weeks that stretched ahead of her. Perhaps she would see him again or hear of him in the passing comments of those around her.

“Someday,” she told herself,“I should very much like to marry a gentleman exactly like James Tilburn.”

* * *

James delayed his return to the ballroom as long as possible. At only eighteen years of age, he fit absolutely nowhere. He was too young to be asuitor,fartoo young to keep company with the matrons and seasoned gentlemen, and too old to be left at home, where he would much rather be.

His father, the Earl of Techney, had very strong opinions on the duties of his heir—attending Society’s most anticipated functions, studying at Oxford andnotCambridge, belonging to any gentlemen’s club that would accept an applicant from a family only two generations deep in the peerage, driving to an inch, being handy with his fives and deadly with a length of steel. Lord Techney permitted his son no say in his schedule nor his future.

Inside the Falstone House ballroom, the current set came to a close. James quickly glanced at the tiny, dark-haired girl he’d found spying onthe balcony. She slipped nearly silently into an adjacent room, no doubt returning to the nursery. He hoped the poor child would escape the wrath of her host. How closely related was she to the Dangerous Duke? If she was forced into his company often, it was really no wonder she seemed so painfully shy. He felt certain very few people had been treated to the sight of her adorable dimpled smile.

He resignedly stepped back into the thick of the crowd. There were times when he wholeheartedly wished he could disappear as easily as that quiet little girl had, because he very much feared that eventually his father would find a way to control him completely.

Chapter Two

London

April, six years later

“You wished to see me,Father.” James stood in the doorway of his father’s library, no idea why he’d been summoned. Father never requested his presence unless he required James to do something inconvenient or unpleasant.

“Sit, Tilburn.” Father always addressed him by his courtesy title and never with any degree of paternal affection. The man twisted his signet ring around his smallest finger. James recognized that smug gesture. Something had Father feeling exceptionally satisfied with himself. That was not a good omen.

Father’s mouth turned up in a pleased smile.“The Duke of Kielder summoned me to his home this afternoon.”

James’s lungs seized. No man in the entire kingdom inspired the levelof heart-stopping fear His Grace did. His presence at any event broughtSociety to an awe-inspired halt. The mere mention of his name left gentlemen, old and young alike, quaking in their shoes. A summons from theDangerous Dukewas not generally considered afortunateturn of events.

Father continued spinning his signet ring, his face alight with eager anticipation.“His Grace finds our family quite impressive.”

James doubted that very much. No one with His Grace’s standingcould possibly be in awe of the family of a lesser-known earl whose great-grandfather had been nothing more significant than a minor land owner in an insignificant corner of Lancashire.

“His Grace spoke highly of us—ofyou, as a matter of fact—though I am certain you have no comprehension of how significant that is.” Fatherleaned over his desk, capturing James in a look of budding excitement.“This is your opportunity, Tilburn. You’ve captured the notice of a man who holds all of Society in the palm of his hand. His approval can raise even the lowliest of thetonto places of influence and significance.”

James cared very little for the shallow and ever-changing opinions ofSociety’scrème de la crème.He came to London every Season and tookpart, to an extent, in the social whirl. But his focus had ever been oncultivating his place in political circles. One day when he assumed his father’s title, he wished to undertake his Parliamentary duties with some degree of competency. That he had found his footing, however comparatively humble, amongst some members of thetonand had received invitations to a few events was nice but not crucial to his happiness.

“His Grace made a suggestion,” Father added, blind to James’s lack of enthusiasm,“and I, of course, accepted on your behalf.”

A lump of apprehension began to form in James’s stomach.“What precisely did he suggest?”

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