Page 5 of The Duke I Wished For
“Don’t fall behind.”
“Yes, Mother.”
But she did fall behind. It wasn’t even like she’d planned it. First her feet seemed reluctant to move and she found herself shuffling behind her mother, falling farther and farther back. Then her stomach revolted as her mother waved to a tall, gangly-looking man on the far side of the room.
Then someone bumped into her, which sent her stumbling sideways.
And that was how she happened to barge into the group of men who’d previously been hiding her and her mother.
“Oh, pardon me,” she said quickly.
But most of the men in the cluster were distracted at that moment by the approach of the Duke of Amesbury.
“Your Grace,” one of the men said. “How good of you to invite us.”
And then the other three men moved toward the duke, and Daffodil found herself standing alone with the tall tree trunk of a man. Or rather, she stood directly in front of him, blocking his path to join the others who were now gathered around the duke.
“Er, pardon me,” she murmured.
He gave a little tip of his chin in acknowledgment, the act stiff and proper. He started to shift, to walk around her, but just then Daffodil caught sight of Mr. Benson again and she panicked, shifting once more to put the tree trunk of a man in front of her.
She’d say this for the tall, broad, handsome fellow…he might have an alarmingly grim disposition, but he made for an excellent hiding spot.
She peeked around his broad frame and her breath caught at the sight of the sneering, pale Mr. Benson. The man looked…awful.
Was that possible? Could a man actually look cruel? Or was she just scarred from her experience with the wretched Mr. Pennywind?
Another peek confirmed her suspicion.
No, he looked wrong. Off. There was a light missing in his eyes, and his chin was far too weak. And?—
“Miss…”
Daffodil lifted her chin to face the man who’d spoken in that rough, rumbly voice. She found herself staring at a cravat, so she lifted her chin higher until she could see those piercing brown eyes staring down at her.
Goodness, he truly was a tall specimen.
His brows lowered even further. “May I help you?”
It didn’t sound like a kind offer of assistance. More like a civil way of saying “get out of my way.” But Daffodil still sighed wistfully as she murmured, “Would that you could.”
He blinked. “Pardon?”
She shook her head. “Apologies for the interruption. But you see, I…” She trailed off with her lips still parted, temporarily speechless in the face of those dark eyes and that furrowed brow.
Also, she had no notion of what to say. That didn’t help her speechless state one bit.
Apologies for the interruption, but you see I’m hiding like a coward and you bear a striking resemblance to my favorite safe haven tree trunk.
No, that would not do.
She swallowed hard again. “I apologize for the intrusion but…”
“Where is that girl?” Her mother’s voice reached her from the left, and panic set in as she shifted to the right just as he’d taken a step to his left. To an onlooker it would have seemed like they were participating in some newfangled dance.
Perhaps it was time to make a run for it. She’d deal with the consequences of her mother’s anger later. Her mother’s voice had come from the left so she took another step to the right, just in time to see Mr. Benson moving toward her. His gaze met hers and this time there was a light in his eyes, all right.
But it was a sickening light. It was the sort of gleam Mr. Pennywind had gotten whenever his gaze drifted to her decolletage or his hands strayed too low when they danced.
