Page 17 of The Duke I Wished For
The grass still held the morning dew, her slippers growing wet as she tiptoed across the square, standing below the maypole.
In a few short hours, the entire square would be abuzz with activity. They’d dance about the pole, of course, a stage having been erected for the small orchestra. People would bring picnic lunches, and the local tavern had even rolled in several barrels of fine ale to serve.
But now, in the quiet morning, it was empty. Only the gentlest breeze flapped at the ribbons and she reached out a hand, plucking one of them between her fingers, a frown marking her brow. She still didn’t have a wish. Not like Isabelle’s library or Jane’s desire for horses.
And yet, a wish had begun to form. A hope so deep, she could hardly bring it forward. She wished…she wished to be worthy of a man like the duke. She winced at the thought, knowing it was silly. He’d never choose her. She didn’t have the skills or the dowry to be considered for the position of the duchess. But wishes didn’t have to be grounded in reality…did they?
She slipped back inside, to her room, and carefully dressed her hair as she waited for the rest of the school to wake.
Once she was done, she sat at her windowsill and watched the Mayfair square slowly fill until it was abuzz with preparation.
Families would attend along with the daughters of Madame Bellafonte’s school, but not even the prospect of her mother could dim Daffodil’s enthusiasm today. Something about making that wish had lightened her insides, and excitement and the prospect of all the fun made her leg bounce with anticipation.
“Can you believe it?” Jocelyn burst into her room without even knocking. “It’s finally here. May Day.”
Daffodil rose from her window seat, laughing at her friend. “I know. I’m near bursting with excitement.”
“Me too.” Jocelyn gave her a wide grin.
Daffodil’s brows hitched up as she assessed her friend. Jocelyn was always cheerful, but of all the ladies at Madame Bellafonte’s school, Jocelyn was by far the most refined. The oldest of the lot, and having already made her debut, Jocelyn tended to have a flirtatious, worldly air about her when they were in society, and even here at the school she didn’t typically exude such childlike wonder.
Daffodil cocked her head to the side. “Tell me, what has you atwitter for today’s festivities?”
Jocelyn’s gaze slid away. “I love spring, that’s all. It’s filled with so much hope and promise, it seems any problem is manageable this time of year. Does it not?”
Daffodil had to agree. She thought back to her wish she’d made a few hours ago and her pulse thrummed in her ears. Three days had passed since she’d had the tea party with Clarissa and Hathshire. And in that time, they’d both filled her thoughts and her dreams. Was there a path forward that did not involve Mr. Benson and an unpleasant marriage? Did she dare to hope her wish might come true?
“I have to confess that I agree.” Her fingers twisted together as she turned to look at the maypole once again. Did wishes ever come true?
Jocelyn plopped on the bed just as the door opened again, Isabelle entering. She also wore a wide smile, her eyes dancing with excitement. “What are we agreeing about?” she asked as she took a seat next to Jocelyn.
“Daff is filled with hope,” Jocelyn answered. “As am I.”
Isabelle looked between the two of them, eyes shining. “I don’t know what’s filled you with optimism, Jocelyn, but I know what’s brought Daffodil’s mood up to dizzying heights.”
Daffodil sank back down on her window seat, eyeing her friend. “You do not.” Had she been that obvious the other day at the duke’s home? Had he noticed? Suddenly, she felt like a silly fool.
Isabelle only gave a gentle laugh and, rising, crossed to put a hand on Daffodil’s shoulder. “Don’t fret.”
Clearly, her friends could easily read her emotions. Gads, she must be an open book. Biting at her lip, she attempted to explain. “It’s just that he’s so handsome…and a duke…and…”
“Wait,” Jocelyn interrupted, rising as well. “You are interested in the duke?”
“Who’s interested in the duke?” Jane asked, coming into the room, her red hair plaited and twisted in the most adorable upsweep.
“Daffodil is,” Isabelle answered. “And he’s interested in her too.”
The words made her pulse jump again and her hands fluttered uselessly at her sides. Was there a chance those words were true?
“Is he?” Jocelyn gave a little clap. And then she patted Daffodil’s other shoulder. “And why wouldn’t he be? You’re so lovely and warm.”
“Thank you,” she said, truly grateful. As much as she’d been dreaming about the man, she’d also had some niggling fears that sent butterflies flapping about her belly.
She knew how she felt about him, but what were the odds he’d be interested in her? He was so wonderful and she…
Jocelyn’s next words had Daffodil wincing all over again. “And besides, it’s well known he’s actively looking for a wife.”
Should that make her feel better? It didn’t. She’d already known that fact, just as she knew he’d made a list.
