Page 60 of A Temporary Bride for the Duke

Iam in terrible trouble.

Daisy and the Duke had not spent more than two minutes with one another since she had arrived at the house party. But when Daisy strolled out towards the gazebo and found him sitting there all alone, she could do nothing but stare at him.

He is breathtaking.

The late afternoon sun was gradually dipping its way toward the horizon line, casting shadows across the Duke’s face. He sat motionless, like a hunk of granite rock, and allowed nature to consume him and alter his features. The light struck his eyes, bringing forth the sparkles she most admired.

Her breath came shallowly as she continued to look at him. Meanwhile, his expression remained impassive.

Does he want to be alone? Am I intruding?

She just could not tell.

Daisy blinked at his blank face, wondering what he was thinking, or if he wanted her to go away. Just as she thought it, he moved, making a space for her on the bench.

She nodded in thanks and sat down, and they both stared at the parterre of flowers before them in silence.

“It was a mistake, I know it. I’m sorry,” Daisy finally blurted, unable to take it anymore.

He turned slowly to stare at her. “What was a mistake?”

“The kiss.” She shook her head. “Obviously, it was a mistake.” She turned to him, trying to smile. “I completely understand that. It happened weeks ago, and we have yet to speak of it.” She knew she was rambling, but could not stop herself now that she had begun. “I ought not mention it now. I’m sure it would be best if I held my tongue…my tongue…but…oh!”

She cringed as she realized how her words had tumbled out of her and she had stopped speaking at the most inconvenient moment.

“Oh.” He said nothing more.

“Yes…” She cleared her throat. “You don’t have to worry that I will… get ideas. I remember our agreement.”

The Duke’s eyebrows rose. “Our agreement. Of course,” he mumbled at first, then spoke in a more even tone, “nothing’s changed. We’ll proceed as before.”

Daisy felt a spark of hope deep within her chest wither. “Yes. I thought you might say that. We will act as if the kiss never happened.”

The Duke paused, frowning momentarily. Then, he nodded, “Precisely.”

She rose, flicking a brief glance at him before forcing her gaze away. “I’ll leave you alone. Good day, Your Grace,” she said, and dropped into a quick curtsy.

He stood as well, inclining his head in return.

Daisy did not wait for anything more. She turned and walked away too quickly, her steps a fraction uneven on the gravel.

Her chest felt tight, though she kept her face carefully composed.

I should have known. I should not have mentioned the kiss. It clearly meant more to me than it did to him.

Ahead, she caught sight of Lydia. Relief came too fast, almost sharp, and she hurried toward her before she could reconsider leaving the Duke behind.

Edmund continued to sit at the gazebo, unsettled by Daisy’s words.

He didn’t know if she was right about their kiss being a mistake. He was in two minds about it. On the one hand, he was relieved that they’d cast that aside.

On the other hand, he still could not get her out of his mind, and he wished he could kiss her again.

A white moth with black speckles flitted mere inches from his nose and the sight of the winged creature brought with it thoughts of Mary. Their relationship had been so uncomplicated… easy. Free of inconvenient desires and runaway feelings. They held each other in high regard and shared a deep friendship. Like the moth, they had soared on a breeze until fate stepped in and took her away from him.

But with Daisy…matters are not so easy.

“Ah, there you are. Hiding from the hoi polloi, as always?”