Page 25 of The Duke I Wished For
“And I know, you know?” Daffodil babbled as her friends stared at her in concern. “I know he values those skills. Music, and social graces, and…and…embroidery!” At Jocelyn’s confused stare, Daffodil pointed out, “You said so yourself.”
“I see,” Jocelyn said slowly. Her tone was one Daffodil suspected nurses used with patients at Bedlam. “And that’s why you did not say yes to his proposal. Because…” Jocelyn cast a sidelong look at the others. “Because your embroidery skills are only adequate.”
Daffodil stared at her as the others waited patiently in silence for her response. “It’s not just that…”
“Daff, do you like the man?” Delilah asked.
Daffodil didn’t hesitate to nod. “I do. Yes.” Her mind called up that warm smile that softened his features, the way he took such great pains to make sure his daughter was happy, the way his gaze darkened every time he looked at her, as if…
As if he was really seeing her. As if he truly cared about her thoughts and her feelings.
Her breath caught in her chest as her heart swelled and her pulse quickened. “He’s a good man,” she said softly. “He seems so stern, but he’s kind and warm underneath his hard exterior, and such a good father and he deserves the best sort of wife. And what’s more, he deserves an excellent mother for Clarissa and I…” Her voice broke and she gave her head a shake, unable to go on.
Delilah leaned into her, giving her hand a squeeze. “And you…what, Daff?”
“I don’t know that I would be a good mother,” she whispered, tears trailing down her cheeks. “I’d like to be. I want to be. But…” She looked to Delilah, the one person here who could truly understand. “But what if I can’t?”
Delilah stared at her wide-eyed. “You cannot mean that.”
Daffodil shrugged helplessly. Now that she’d acknowledged the true reason behind her hesitation, she couldn’t ignore it. “Everyone always says how alike we are…” She cast her gaze at Delilah, begging her sister to understand.
“You and your mother,” Isabelle clarified.
“You’re nothing at all alike!” Jane shouted, her tone obstinate.
“But we are. Everyone says so, even Father.”
“No, Daff,” Delilah said. “Father often mentions how much you resemble Mother in appearance. That’s hardly the same thing.”
“But…but…”
“Is that what kept you from saying yes?” Jocelyn asked, her tone so surprised, Daffodil felt a little ridiculous as she nodded.
“Clarissa is sweet and innocent and so very vulnerable,” Daffodil explained. “She deserves an excellent mother.”
“And that’s you!” Delilah said, rising to her feet.
Daff shook her head in frustration, ready to protest. Couldn’t they see? “I don’t know the first thing about being a good mother. My only example of maternal love was…” She cast Delilah a meaningful look. “Well, you know.”
Delilah was frowning at her, her eyes filled with such strength of emotion, Daffodil was taken aback.
“Daff, I cannot let you go on thinking that you wouldn’t make the very best mother,” Delilah started.
“Oh, Lila, I know you want to cheer me, but?—”
“No!” Delilah interrupted.
Daffodil saw Jocelyn, Jane, and Isabelle staring at Delilah with the same shock she felt. Delilah was always so soft-spoken. Timid, really. To hear her raise her voice was rather alarming.
“Delilah—”
“No, you listen to me, Daff,” Delilah said, straightening beside her. “I know without a doubt that you’d make an excellent mother, because you’ve always been like a mother to me.”
“Don’t be silly,” Daffodil started.
“It’s true,” Jocelyn cut in. “You take care of Delilah as if she were much younger than you and not less than a year apart in age.”
“You take care of all of us like that,” Isabelle added.
