Page 24 of The Duke I Wished For
Daffodil tried to imagine little Jane confronting the big, formidable duke, and the thought was enough to make her lips quiver and the sound that escaped was as much a laugh as it was a sob.
Delilah nudged her gently. “Tell us what’s wrong, Daff.”
All four of her friends waited expectantly, their expressions filled with such gentle understanding, she nearly wept all over again. But with a shaky exhale, she finally told her friends about the duke’s proposition.
When she was done there was a moment of silence, which was quickly broken by a litany of questions.
“The duke proposed?” Jocleyn’s wide eyes met hers.
“What did you say?” Isabelle asked.
Delilah was still gaping at her. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“Do your parents know?” Jane added.
Daffodil shook her head, answering the last question first. “I probably should have told them but…”
Delilah winced in sympathy. “Once Mother finds out, there’ll be no question of whether or not you accept.”
Daffodil nodded, her chest tightening painfully. That was it exactly. Her mother wouldn’t care at all about her feelings in the matter, only what the family could gain. And a duchess for a daughter would be the coup of a lifetime for the countess.
“So I take it you don’t wish to marry him then,” Isabelle said softly.
Daffodil’s lips parted and she stared at her kind friend with a stricken look. “No, it’s not…it’s not that I don’t want to…”
Jocelyn pursed her lips. “You might not have much of a choice if his mind’s made up. I don’t claim to know the man, but dukes, from my understanding, have a way of getting what they want. And this one clearly wants you.”
Daffodil’s chest constricted with hope…and fear. “But…but…how do you know?”
Her friends exchanged looks, before Isabelle hesitantly offered, “Er, because he proposed marriage?”
Jane nodded enthusiastically. “I don’t know much about men or marriage, but a proposal seems like a good indication that he wants to be with you.”
“Did you say yes?” Delilah asked, her soft voice cutting to the heart of the matter.
Daffodil shook her head, pressing her lips together to hold back another sob as she replayed that horrifyingly awkward moment after he’d proposed when shock had rendered her utterly senseless.
Jocelyn was eyeing her oddly. “Did you say no?”
Daffodil shook her head.
“Then…” Jane looked to each of the girls in turn before facing Daffodil. “What did you say?”
Daffodil’s head was tipped down and she found herself staring at the needle and thread in her lap. Lips quivering, she gave in to the next sob and her words came out on a wail. “I spoke of embroidery!”
Delilah wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. “I…I don’t understand.”
“Embroidery? As in…” Jane nodded to the fabric in Daffodil’s lap.
Daffodil nodded.
Isabelle patted her knee, clearly at a loss for words.
Jocelyn studied Daffodil like she was a particularly perplexing puzzle. “What precisely did you say about embroidery?”
“I just…I don’t know, I was so surprised,” Daffodil said.
“Of course you were.” Delilah gave her hand another squeeze.
