Romancing Her Rival - Joanna Barker Page 0,12

hand, barely feeling the pressure of it. She thought Daphne weak-willed—too controlled by her mother to run the estate. Daphne wished she could refute it, toss those words to the wind and watch them whisk away. But there was too much truth there. She’d never been one to go her own way. Her mother did control her life—she chose her clothes, her activities, who she associated with. She had only allowed Daphne to come alone to Cheriton this time because of how much was at risk.

But it was not just Mother. It was Daphne. She’d always been content to follow, even at school with her dearest friends. She was no leader, and in fact disliked taking charge, though she’d never thought to mourn that fact. She’d only wanted to please others. But now. Now it was her greatest failing, and the reason she had lost her inheritance.

Aunt Hartwell was speaking again, and Daphne forced herself to listen.

“… you’ll marry soon enough, hopefully to a man of some quality. I am certain your dowry is enough to attract a fair amount of suitors, and then you might have your choice.”

Daphne stared blankly at her great-aunt, the words slipping through her mind. But then she straightened. Her dowry. She mustn’t let Aunt Hartwell learn that horrible truth.

“Of course. My dowry.” Daphne forced an even tone, though her pulse sped. “Yes, I hope you are right.”

“I usually am,” Aunt Hartwell said with a soft laugh. “But I’m bound to make a mistake once every decade or so.”

Daphne could not bring herself to laugh as well.

“I think I will go inside now,” she said instead, standing from the bench, using the tip of her parasol to steady herself against the damp grass. “The heat of the sun is a bit much for me today.”

Aunt Hartwell nodded. She knew Daphne was lying—just not how much. “Of course, dear. Go and rest awhile.”

Rest. Daphne left Aunt Hartwell in the garden and made for the door. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt fully rested. Not since before this last Season, which had exhausted her with its dizzying array of entertainments and parties. And certainly not since Christmas—when she’d learned about her dowry. Or, more accurately, when she’d learned she no longer possessed a dowry.

Hopelessness closed in around her like a shroud, cutting off the air to her lungs. She pressed one hand to her stomach, trying to breathe.

“Miss Windham?”

Daphne looked up, surprised to find her vision clouded with tears. But she recognized Cole’s voice, so apparently he was the blurry figure standing on the path before her.

“Mr. Everard.” She adjusted her bonnet ribbons, surreptitiously wiping away any escaped tears.

“Are you all right?”

Daphne was not one to often use the word hate, but at the moment she quite hated the concern in his voice.

“You needn’t pretend you care,” she said, perhaps a bit more icily than she’d intended. His eyes narrowed.

“I wasn’t pretending,” he said shortly. “But if you dislike kindness so very much, I’ll refrain from offering it in the future.”

She glared up at him, no longer trying to hide her watery eyes. “Kindness. As if you know a thing about it.”

“At the moment, it seems I know a great deal more than you.”

Daphne did not respond. She’d already been crying and anger only made it harder to hold back the rest of the tears that pounded behind her eyes, begging to be released. She brushed past him and hurried into the house.

When she reached her room, she sank against the closed door and finally let the tears come. She swiped them away fiercely, then her eyes focused on the red beads encircling her wrist. She gave a dry laugh. Luck. The bracelet was supposed to bring good luck. For so long, she’d wished and hoped and prayed for a love match, a marriage of two minds and hearts. But now that hope faded like the yellow drapes in her old bedroom. She had nothing to offer a husband.

She undid the fastener and flung the bracelet atop her vanity.

Cole watched Daphne disappear inside, his stomach a rock. Why could she not understand this was not his fault? Why did she treat him as if he had personally set out to wound her?

She’d clearly been upset, tears in her eyes and voice shaking, and yet at the slightest concern from him, she’d become a viper. And if there was one thing Cole knew about snakes, it was to stay far away. But that was much easier