Romancing Her Rival - Joanna Barker Page 0,14

it admirably and remind me every day that I made the right choice.”

Her words buoyed him up, made him straighten. There were few people in the world whose opinions truly mattered to him, and Aunt Hartwell’s was one of them. She’d managed this estate for longer than Cole had been alive, and her knowledge and quick mind had long impressed him. Her faith in him meant more than he could say, and he determined yet again not to let her down.

If only he could fix things with Daphne. His new world might settle more easily around his shoulders if he knew she did not hate him. But that seemed so far beyond his reach, not when he was unable to give up the one thing that would mend their friendship. But he needed Cheriton. It was his whole life, as it had been his father’s. And besides that, this was his chance to rise beyond his humble circumstances and make a name for himself.

Cole exhaled. Daphne would come to terms with it eventually, and Cole would stand ready as her friend when she did.

Her friend. An image of Daphne from last night swept across his memory, of her blue evening gown and the tempting curve of her shoulders beneath. He swallowed. Her friend, he thought again.

Chapter 4

The next few days passed with excruciating slowness. Daphne could hardly hide in her room forever, and yet spending time with Aunt Hartwell—when she knew what the woman truly thought of her—was rather painful. They spoke of inane topics and made visits to neighbors and read together, anything to avoid the true reason for the awkwardness between them.

Cole came to dinner nearly every night, and it never grew easier to see him sitting at the dining table or in the drawing room, knowing one day it would all be his. Daphne was hardly the vindictive sort, but this situation was beyond anything she knew how to deal with. What was she to do, just forgive and forget? It was not that simple.

But she also had no plan. Mother’s strategy had been for Daphne to convince Aunt Hartwell of her superiority as an heir, but clearly that idea was now dust in the wind.

That was what she had told Mother in a letter, the day after her conversation with Aunt Hartwell. In fact, she’d been on the brink of begging Mother to let her come back to London. There was no place for her at Cheriton any longer. But the thought of returning to the smothering heat of the city and the endless parade of social events made her hesitate. In London, Mother scheduled every second of her life. At least at Cheriton, Daphne had some freedom as to how she wished to spend her days.

One week after her arrival, though, and even that prospect had begun to dim. She woke to bright sunlight and cheery birdsong, immediately wishing she had some pebbles to toss at the creature to stop its screeching. Her mood was not much improved by the time Jenny came to help her dress and do her hair.

“Oh!” A sharp pain in her scalp had Daphne pulling away from Jenny, who had been pinning her red-brown curls in place.

“Sorry, miss.” Jenny’s eyes were wide in the vanity mirror.

Had the poor girl ever done another’s hair? Her own looked tidy enough, so she couldn’t be completely without experience. Then Daphne sighed. She was being unkind. It was this horrible business with the inheritance, making her irritable and insensitive.

“It is all right,” she said instead of the reprimand her mother would have delivered. “We will get used to one another soon enough.” Daphne leaned back again and Jenny resumed her pinning, with so soft a touch Daphne hardly felt it.

“All done, miss,” Jenny finally said a few minutes later, tucking her hands behind her.

“Thank you,” Daphne said, though she barely glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Perhaps it was best not to see the damage.

“Oh, I nearly forgot.” Jenny pulled a letter from her apron pocket. “A letter came for you this morning.”

Daphne recognized her mother’s hand immediately, and her stomach turned. Part of her was hoping Mother would have some solution for Daphne’s current situation, but another—quieter—part was hoping she would admit defeat like Daphne had.

Jenny left and Daphne broke the seal on the letter.

Dearest Daphne,

How distressed I was to receive your letter! You seemed very disheartened by your conversation with Aunt Hartwell and I cannot stand to see it. You say