Page 96 of Romancing Daphne

She couldn’t hold back a smile at his exaggerated tone.“Artemis was theonly one of us subjected to this puzzle during her lessons. Linus brought ithome with him during a visit.”

A brief moment passed as they continued unhurriedly working at the complicated pieces. Persephone sat nearer the sitting room windows, applying herself to a bit of embroidery. Artemis had taken full possession of the room’s fainting sofa in order to practice death scenes, having declared her previous efforts“sadly lacking in elegance.”

“Has your brother decided whether he means to leave the navy or continue on?”

The inquiry was a natural one but pricked her heart just the same.“He announced this morning that he had made his choice.”

James’s eyes immediately flew to hers. The briefest of seconds passed.“Oh, Daphne.” Those two words were saturated in compassionate understanding.“How soon does he return to his ship?”

Without a single word of explanation from her, he knew what hadhappened and precisely how she felt. No other person she’d known hadever been able to do that. His kindness coupled with her own shaky emotions nearly undid her.“He will be here less than one more week.” Thewords did not emerge entirely steady.“TheTriumphantis due to sail in six days.”

“This must have come as a blow.”

She nodded.“Part of me clung to the hope that he would choose toresign his post, but he is a man of conviction, and we are, after all, a country at war. By all accounts, that war will spread to two fronts in the weeksahead, the situation with the former colonies being what it is. I think I suspected all along he would return to fight.”

James turned the puzzle piece about in his hand, but his eyes never left her face.“If his principles dictate he return, then certainly he must. But I know how much you worry about him.”

Those were precisely her feelings.“I cannot fault him for his decision, but I am—”

“Concerned.” He smiled kindly.“I have ever admired your compassionate nature. In my experience, that is a far too rare quality.”

Heat stained her cheeks.Admiredwas a decidedly pleasant word coming from him—perhaps not the exact word she wished most to hear but encouraging, just the same. She felt rather like a fledgling chick inching closer to the edge of the nest, uncertain of what came next but not yet ready to brave the possibilities.

“My tendency to fret over people is nothing worthy of such praise.”

His brow furrowed.“Do you really think the complimentinsincere?”

“Not insincere, merely . . . exaggerated.” She judiciously applied herself to the puzzle, finding this new topic as disquieting as their previous. Why could they not go back to discussing the continents or the weather? Her footing was much surer in those arenas.

James apparently did not intend to let the matter rest.“And if I were to tell you that in addition to your kind heart, you have a remarkable wit?”

She shook her head, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the puzzle in which she had long since lost interest.“I am no comedienne, sir.”

“I suppose you also discount your admirable intelligence.”

“As my company is very seldom required by anyone, I have always hadample time for reading. It is not intelligence so much as years’ worth oflonely hours in need of filling with something. Anything.” She shrugged a little.“What good have my stores of trivial knowledge truly done me, after all?”

He offered no rebuttal, no further inquiries after her nonexistentcharms. When the silence grew overly long, she hazarded a glance at him, half expecting a look of dismissal or an eagerness to be about his business. But his gaze appeared riveted on her face.

“Good gracious, you actually believe that.” He sounded entirely shocked.

The blush she’d felt begin moments before intensified.“I know what I am,” she said quietly.“And I have long since accepted the truth.”

James stood abruptly.“Miss Lancaster. Would you be so good as to take a short excursion with me?”

She didn’t immediately comply, trying to ascertain his intentions.

“Please?” he added, his voice quiet but firm.

Reminding herself that she had decided to be brave, she rose. He did not offer his arm as she had expected him to but instead took hold of her hand, entwining their fingers, then led her directly to the drawing room doors and out into the corridor. She had not at all sorted out his reasons for their sudden ‘excursion’ but was too lost in the wonderful feel of her hand in his to think overly much about it—until they reached their destination: the large gilded mirror hanging near the entryway.

James released her hand and turned her to face the looking glass hanging at a level just right for viewing nearly all of oneself. He stood directlybehind her, ever so slightly to the left. Their eyes met in the mirror.

“Tell me what you see,” he said.

An odd request, to be sure.“You and I and the corridor.”

“No. I mean, when you look at yourself, tell me what you see.”

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