Chapter Forty-One

A note from James arrived with Daphne’s cup of chocolate the next morning, asking her to take a walk with him about the grounds near lunchtime. She didn’t have to even ponder the invitation. Accepting was automatic.

She saw him before he saw her, his attention claimed at the moment she stepped outside by something in the opposite direction. The breeze ruffled his hair, giving him a very natural at-ease look. The tension he’d constantly worn during those first weeks of the London Season had disappeared. Freedom from the tyranny of his father had done James a world of good.

He smiled broadly the moment his eyes fell on her. Daphne’s heart warmed at the pleasure in his expression. No one ever seemed as happy to see her as James did.

“Good day, Daphne,” he greeted her, taking her hand in his. He did not hold himself to the more formal salute of kissing the air above her hand but pressed his lips to it directly. “I hope you have no other engagements this afternoon.”

She shook her head, reminding herself to breathe. “Do you?”

“None but this one.” He pulled her arm through his, and they walked for a moment in silence. “I have come to truly like your childhood home, Daphne.” James wore a look of quiet contentment.

“It is very beautiful,” she said. “Though you did not see it in its more ramshackle days. Without the means of keeping it up, the land and house grew too neglected, I fear. Adam’s attentions have rectified that over the past seven years.”

“I did not mean merely its appearance,” James said. “I’m not sure precisely how to explain what I mean. It is the feel of the place I’ve grown to value most. It is peaceful. My childhood home was anything but. I did not realize until I came here how much I felt that lack growing up.”

Peaceful. Daphne nodded to herself. The estate always had felt that way, even if the feeling hadn’t entirely freed her of worries and upheavals. “I remember during our picnics I would lie back on the blanket and watch the clouds pass above me and simply soak in the quietness of it all.”

“That sounds absolutely perfect,” James said.

He continually surprised her, understanding the things she valued without having to ask. “We had a particular spot we loved most.” She relived the memories even as she spoke of them. “It sat just far enough from the house that we could forget for a time the pull of responsibilities and worries. We were permitted to be carefree children for the hour or so we lingered there.”

“It was a happy place for you, then?”

She sighed. “Very.”

They turned down a path that led along the side of a copse of trees. A light breeze rustled the leaves and created ripples in the ankle-high grass just beyond the narrow path. Daphne leaned her head against his upper arm, discovering that doing so felt entirely natural.

“I was concerned about you last night,” he said. “You were very quiet.”

“I have had a lot on my mind.”

“Sometimes it helps to talk with someone,” James said.

She turned her face up to him. “You always have been quite willing to listen to me. And you even manage not to appear annoyed that I am taking up your time.”

“Perhaps that is because I am not annoyed.”

“Not at all?” She doubted he found recountings of her difficulties a pleasing way to pass an afternoon.

“I find I very much enjoy talking with you,” he said. “You are not empty-headed or demanding. Better yet, you are not a shrew.”

“A shrew?” Daphne chuckled at that. “I should hope not.”

He stopped walking, necessitating her own halt. James released her arm. Just as her heart began to drop, he stepped in front of her, taking her hands in his and smiling. “I have missed your laugh. It is far too rare a sound.”

Warmth stole across her face.

He stood silently watching her, his eyes continually drifting toward her mouth. Daphne’s heart pounded in her throat. He swallowed, still silent and intent on her face.

James pushed out a breath. “You’d best put that dimple away, Miss Lancaster. I swore quite faithfully to your sister that I would behave with utmost decorum.”

Somehow, that only made her smile wider.

He shook his head, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “See, now this is precisely why I had to decide against a picnic.” He began down the path once more.

Daphne quickly caught up to him. “A picnic?” She had yet to go on a picnic. The one in London hardly counted, having ended in such monumental disaster.

“I even inquired after your family’s traditional picnicking spot,” James said, his step very nearly jaunty. “It proved far too isolated, especially considering your unwillingness to keep your dimple out of sight.” He smiled at her as though he would rather be there with her than anywhere else in the world.

“What have you planned instead?”

He assumed a very serious demeanor, one belied by the lingering amusement that tugged at his mouth. “A most proper walk around the grounds, Miss Lancaster.”

“And there is no chance we might have a picnic?”

“Your sister and brother-in-law would decidedly disapprove. And though I am rather fond of picnics, I am also rather fond of being left alive.”

His teasing tone proved infectious. “I suppose your life would be a very steep price to pay for a single picnic.”

“I am pleased that you think so,” he said. She loved seeing him smile so freely. He rarely had before breaking with his father. “I am likewise pleased that you have agreed to such a lackluster activity as taking a turn with me. Strolling with a rather ordinary fellow cannot be nearly as enjoyable an excursion for a beautiful lady.”

A beautiful lady. To hide her furious blush, Daphne offered a light comment. “I do believe you are flirting with me.”

“I most certainly am,” he replied.

An excited yelping cut off whatever he intended to say next.

James turned in the direction of the sound. “Blast it,” he muttered under his breath. “That pup manages to ruin more moments . . .”

She slipped her hand from his and began leisurely walking back toward the house. “I’ll leave the two of you alone, then.”

He called after her, his voice nearly begging, “Please, don’t leave.”

The words reverberated in her mind, echoing in her own voice again and again, the sound reminiscent of the very little girl she’d once been, through her growing up years, and as recently as the silent pleas she’d held back during Linus’s departure. “Please, don’t leave” had ever been her words. So many times she had begged using that precise phrase, but never had it been directed at her.

She turned back just as James reached her. His was a look of near panic. Had he truly been so upset at the possibility of her walking away?

“Daphne,” he breathed out her name, relief filling the single word to near bursting. “I hadn’t meant to make such a mull of things. I have been racking my brain trying to think of the right way to go about all this, but romance and courtship are hardly my forte.”

“Romance?” The word emerged so quietly he likely hadn’t heard.

“You deserve all of that, but I’m such a muttonhead about it all. I will try. I swear I will. Only, please, Daphne.” He took hold of her hand, the gesture almost frantic. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Her heart pounded, her thoughts swirling around.

“I realize life has not taught you to trust easily. My own history with you has only added to that. But I swear to you, I will not walk out on you. So, please, do not walk out on me.”

Good heavens, he looked very nearly desperate, worried to the point of utter agitation.

“Why is it so important for me to stay?” she asked, praying his answer was the one she longed most to hear.

He gently took her face in his hands. Stepping closer to her and bending so they stood nearly eye to eye, he whispered, “Because I cannot live without you.” He closed his eyes, anguish radiating from him. “Because if you ever left me, I’d be broken. Just like Apollo mourned his Daphne the rest of his life. Just as your father still grieves for his wife. I’d be lost without you, Daphne.”

“Oh, James.” Emotion broke her words even as hope surged within her.

He leaned his forehead against hers, eyes still closed. “I love you,” he said quietly. “I love you.”

Words she thought never to hear, though she’d dreamed of him saying them since she was twelve years old. “I was not leaving, James.”

He opened his eyes and pulled back only enough to look at her. “Not now? Or not ever?” he pressed as though he depended on that answer to go on.

The implications of his question struck her with such force she required a moment to catch her breath. He wanted her with him always. He loved her. “I’ll not ever leave you, James.”

He kissed her gently, holding her with a tender earnestness, as though she were a very fragile treasure. He broke the seal of their lips but immediately thought better of it and kissed her once more.

“We should return to the house,” he said after a moment. “Else your brother-in-law will likely make good on his threats and murder me at last.”

“I won’t let him.”

He kept an arm around her waist as they walked up the path once more. “He is the Dangerous Duke,” he reminded her.

“Yes, but I am not afraid of him.”

James pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You do not fear the Duke of Kielder. You were not intimidated by my father nor crushed by the unkindness of the Bowers, and by some miracle, you have begun to forgive me for my many trespasses against you.”

“I have had a very busy Season.”

He laughed and pulled her ever closer. “You are remarkable, my dear.”

She very much feared she would wake up at any moment to discover this all was little more than a glorious dream.