Page 77 of A Temporary Bride for the Duke

Daisy hesitated again.

Edmund looked away for a moment, as if restraining something. When he spoke again, his voice was lower. “I should not have left you alone near him.”

“I am not your responsibility.”

“Yes,” he agreed at once. “Yes, you are, Daisy. You are my fiancée. Even if it’s only for… Either way, I have a duty to protect you.” He paused and caught his breath. Then, in a much moremeasured tone, he added, “I would not have left you if I had known he would speak to you like that.”

Daisy’s fingers curled slightly at her sides. “I am not in need of rescuing,” she said.

“I did not say you were.” He stepped closer, then knelt so that they were eye-to-eye with one another.

“I do not care what he said,” Edmund said. “Not in the sense you think I do.”

Daisy frowned slightly. “Then what do you care about?”

That made him go still.

“I care that you came out of that room looking distraught,” he said.

“It is not your place to care,” she said.

The words sounded feeble, even to her own ears. She wanted Edmund to care because she did. She cared for him deeply, and when he looked at her with such loving devotion, she could only hope and pray that she was understanding him correctly.

“It seems I cannot stop myself,” he said.

Daisy blinked. “What?”

He exhaled once, sharply, like a man trying to step back from a ledge.

“I am trying to speak to you sensibly,” he said. “I am trying to remind myself of every reason this must remain… contained.” His gaze held hers now. “And still all I can think about is the way you looked when you came out of that room.”

Silence. The air between them changed, not suddenly, but unmistakably.

Daisy’s pulse stumbled. “Edmund?—”

He shook his head slightly, as if interrupting her before she could steer him away from saying what was on his mind.

“No,” he said, quieter now. “He cannot speak to you like that when I am not there. He cannot speak to you, full stop. A man like Dulforth should not be permitted to share the same room as you.”

Daisy’s hands had gone still at her sides. “Edmund…” she began again, but this time it was not a protest. It was uncertain.

He looked at her properly then.

“I am trying,” he said quietly, “to do the correct thing here. And I am failing at it.”

He inched forward, not suddenly, but decisively this time.

Daisy did not scoot back.

His hand lifted slowly, as though giving her every possible chance to refuse. When she did not, his fingers came to her cheek.

“Daisy…” he breathed, and she leaned into his touch, desperate for its warmth.

That seemed to motivate him.

For he surged up, fitting his lips gently to hers. He waited for a split second, perhaps for her to push him away, but she could not do that.

No. No, I cannot. Not now.