Page 34 of Romancing Daphne

Artemis shifted to a seated position, her eyes growing larger with obvious excitement.“But you are a mere two steps from ‘love.’ A little effort and you could get there quickly.”

Daphne shook her head.“These schemes you are hatching will do you no good. For one thing, Lord Tilburn and I have been acquainted for only a couple of weeks, hardly enough time to be scheming as deeply as you are. For another thing, you are only fifteen. Adam will not agree to a come-out while you are still so young.”

A dismissive wave of the hand clearly communicated Artemis’s feelings about Daphne’s logic.“Adam has been desperate to be rid of the lot of us for years.”

Obviously Artemis did not know their brother-in-law very well. Though he often grumbled about his responsibilities as a guardian, he cared more for them than he let on.

Daphne had been rather afraid of her formidable brother-in-law when she’d first come to live with him. She had taken solace in the assumption that she would be as overlooked in his home as she had been in her own. Her family loved her—she didn’t doubt that—but when she was little, she often went days at a time without any of them paying her much heed. Only Evander, her oldest brother, had regularly thought to check on her when the silence had stretched out.

Adam, however, had surprised her. He had noticed when she was particularly withdrawn. He had never permitted long periods of self-pity. He had welcomed her company, had even sought it out. In his home, she no longer felt so disposable.

“We could do this, Daphne. Two steps is not so very large a leap.” Artemis’s thoughts had not strayed far.“Lord and Lady Techney certainly would not have invited us to dine with their family if Lord Tilburn weren’t at least leaning in thedirectionof an earnest courtship.”

Good heavens, the girl looked ready to burst with excitement. The last thing Daphne wanted was to be Artemis’s latestproject.

“Persephone’s abigail could fix up your hair—your Eliza prefers styles that are far too simple. And you could borrow that paisley shawl I pestered Adam into buying me—”

“I appreciate your offer of help”—the white lie seemed entirely necessary—“but I would far prefer to leave things as they are.”

“You mean you would prefer to not draw attention to yourself.” Artemis clearly disapproved of that notion.“If Lord Tilburn doesn’t notice you, how can you expect him to ever move past ‘liking’ you? There is a reason gentlemen do not fall in love with the furniture.”

The comparison was not particularly flattering. Daphne wanted to believe she had made more of an impression that evening than Artemis insinuated. She had forced herself to join in the conversation with the Tilburn brothers. After her initial moment of timidity, she had found them remarkably easy to talk with. Lord Techney, however, was not. His visage never wavered from stern, his tone of voice always a mixture of overdone civility and arrogance. She had overcome her discomfort with Adam once upon a time and hoped the same would occur with James’s father.

Artemis rose from the bed and leaned against the bedpost in a pose that would not have been out of place in a painting of some epic tragedy.“When Lord Tilburn begins to grow bored with you and you realize that leaving things as they are is not enough to make you stand out in the crowd, I will be more than happy to help.” She sighed rather loudly.“I will be in the nursery, pining away and suffering.”

Daphne shook her head as Artemis left the bedchamber. She would have far preferred to have Persephone offer advice. Their oldest sister, however, had seemed a touch worn out that evening. Daphne didn’t want to bother her if she was unwell.

She blew out the candle and settled in under her blankets. Though she wanted to entirely discount Artemis’s warnings, Daphne found the words would not leave her thoughts.

When Lord Tilburn grows bored with you . . .

Not enough to make you stand out in the crowd . . .

Daphne never had stood out, never had garnered notice. The smallest of knots began to form in her stomach. James didn’t overlook her as nearlyeveryone else did. He had noticed her as a child and again now that shewas grown. He did not so readily dismiss her from his thoughts. Not yet, at least.

“All will be well,” she told herself. But deep inside, a hint of doubt remained.

Chapter Thirteen

James could sense a pendingdisaster from the moment they arrived at Falstone House. Her Grace had invited his family to a small gathering but two days after the family dinner. Mother had spent the short carriage ride in noticeable discomfort. Ben had spent it in utter silence. Father’s expression bordered on giddy. This farcical courtship was supposed to have been undertaken for the sake of the entire family. Only Father appeared remotely happy about any of it.

They were ushered inside by a very correct butler and greeted civilly,if briefly, by the Duchess of Kielder. TheDangerous Duke eyed James with what could only be termed disapproval.

James saw his mother seated comfortably at just the right distance from the very low-burning fire, which also fortuitously happened to be outside of the conversational circles of any of the other guests. That, as much as the warmth, would secure Mother’s comfort to the greatest degree possible.

“Is there anything I can get for you, Mother? Anything you need?”

“No.We are here and must simply make the best of whatever treatment we are subjected to.” Mother’s eyes darted about as if expecting anax-wielding murderer to jump out at any moment.“We must make every effortto put our best foot forward.”

And bywe, Mother meantyou. James knew she did not mean to burden him, but so many responsibilities invariably fell on his shoulders. He offered a bow of acknowledgment and turned to face the room. He would mingle with the other guests and do his duty by Miss Lancaster, but someone ought to stay near Mother to see to it she held up under the weight of her fears.

He spotted Ben not too far distant speaking to Miss Lancaster. Theirs appeared to be quite an involved conversation considering it could not have been going on for more than a few minutes.

He would begin there. Miss Lancaster must be given at least a moment of his attention—just as soon as he saw to Mother.

“Miss Lancaster,” he greeted as he reached them.“Forgive the interruption. Might I steal Ben away a moment?”

That touch of pink he so often saw colored her cheeks once more.“If you promise not to drop him on his head. The poor man is only just beginning to make sensible conversation.”

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