Page 2 of Earl for the Summer
Clasping her fingers tightly around the note Sebastian had passed to her, she closed her eyes, recalling the two simple lines it contained.
Just a few moments alone with you is all I crave. Come to the Welbournes’ library.
He was going to propose to her. Daphne felt the certainty deep in her heart. He wouldn’t bid her to risk so much if the reward he intended to offer were not so great.
Mrs.Daphne Moreland. Pride at taking his name filled her chest with warmth. And one day, when he inherited, she would be proud to become Lady Hurst.
Goodness, they would be happy together. So gloriously happy. The prospect of waking with him. The notion of sleeping beside him. She could see it all in her mind’s eye.
Pushing away her doubts, Daphne rushed toward the Welbournes’ library. The door was set back beyond thetownhouse’s grand stairwell, blessedly hidden from the view of anyone else who might be striding down the hallway.
Cracked open an inch as it was, a tantalizing sliver of light spilled onto the marble floor beneath her feet. She paused, not debating, just savoring the moment. Once she crossed the threshold, her life would change forever.
Daphne licked her lips. Tonight, she’d have her first kiss from the first man she’d ever given her heart to. Theonlyman she would ever give her heart to.
The sound of voices stopped her.
Good grief, had another couple already secured the library for a tryst?
Daphne lifted her hand from the door latch and began to retreat, but then she heard the smooth, deep voice she heard in her dreams. Anticipation coiled in her belly. Oh thank goodness, Sebastian was already here.
But then another gentleman’s laughter sounded in the room, then another’s. The three seemed to be engaged in jovial conversation.
Daphne leaned in, trying to catch their words.
“We should be off,” one man said.
“Don’t want to interrupt your tête à tete,” a second affirmed.
“Off with you both,” Sebastian told the men.
“On the lips,” the first man insisted.
“To hell with that,” Sebastian barked. “I’m having more than a bloody kiss.”
All three quieted and then joined in low, lascivious laughter, thick with suggestion.
Daphne’s belly pitched down toward her slippers, and as much as she wanted to escape and hear no more, curiosity kept her frozen in place.
“The bet is for a kiss, Moreland,” the first man said firmly. “We’ll be listening from the hallway to confirm it.”
“You’ll do more than listen,” Sebastian insisted. “You must see that we’re not caught.”
“She has a dowry from her duke brother-in-law, an angel’s face, and a delicious figure, would it be such hell to be leg-shackled to her?” one of the men asked.
“Perhaps not,” Sebastian admitted, “but I aim to dodge the parson’s noose for a bit longer. Still, I do intend to win this wagerandhave a proper taste of her damnably pert breasts.” His arrogant tone was one Daphne had never heard from him.
The men let out another round of laughter.
Daphne clutched her stomach. Bile burned her throat. Laying her palm on the door, she stepped forward, determined to see his face. Determined to look into those amber eyes and see the truth—that she had never been more to him than a wager.
A silly, trusting debutante. Easily seduced. A gullible fool.
Her other hand balled into a fist, nails digging into the skin of her palm. Then tears came, spilling down her cheeks.
That’s what stopped her. She wouldn’t give him that. She wouldn’t let him see how deep he’d cut her. He wouldn’t care anyway. He never had.
She swiped at her cheeks, turned on her heel, and made her way back to the ballroom on wobbly legs. Nothing had been true. Weeks of dreaming, hoping, carving out such an enormous piece of her heart to stamp his name upon it. And it had all been a facade. A handsome, charming facade.
