Chapter 18

Amelia was delirious with joy and relieved to have made it to her wedding day without any scandals involving her sister and the duke. It was one of the reasons why she and Mama had made sure to place them at two opposite ends of the church just in case their volatile relationship decided to combust while the wedding went on, but fortunately, the duke was absent.

She would admit that the duke and her sister made quite a good couple, and she was quite tired of their back-and-forth relationship. Each one of them was fighting to guard their hearts while ignoring the amazing bond they had between them. She couldn't stand such a beautiful thing to go to waste.

Maybe it was because she was very happy at the moment, but she wanted that unfettered joy for her sister too, and she definitely didn't think Percy Farton was the man who would give her sister that.

If only the duke were in attendance, she would have found a way to bring them together.

"What is wrong, wife?" Harry's voice came startling her out of her reverie.

"Do not tell me you regret marrying me." He continued, an arrogant smile on his face. "I should warn you that it might just be too late. I can't give you back now. You are mine." He grinned with a possessive gleam in his eyes.

"Do not worry, dearest," she said, laughing. "I definitely had all the time to change my mind in the days leading up to the wedding. After everything we went through, I would not be in a hurry to rescind my vows."

"I should hope so. I doubt my pride would be able to handle such a blow." He replied more smugly and Amelia punched his shoulder playfully giggling in pure joy.

"Only your pride would be hurt?" She pouted. "Your heart would not miss me?"

"I would probably die if you left me." He said with a hand on his chest in a dramatic move. "Is that better?"

"Much." She smiled.

"I think we need to talk to Daphne and Victor," she added.

"What about them?" Harry asked in a sullen tone.

"I think we have to intervene in their love story or the two of them will lead very miserable lives in the future."

"I do not know why I have to do all that on my wedding day of all days," he said eyeing her with mock despair. Amelia's lips curved in amusement.

"But you will do it for me, right?" she said fluttering her lashes in a way that had guaranteed her his full attention in the past

"All right," he said with a resigned sigh. "I will talk to Victor. You talk to your sister."

Amelia squealed with joy pecking him sweetly on the cheeks.

"You know you can be very manipulative, right?" he said with an amused smile.

"Yes," she replied a mischievous smile appearing on her lips, "But you love that about me, do you not?"

"What do you intend to do about Farton though?" He asked. "I doubt he'd let her go so easily considering how long he's waited to have her."

Amelia gave him a decidedly mischievous smile. He would do well to stay in her good books because she could prove very vindictive when she needed to be.

"Just leave him to me."

* * *

A look around the wedding hall told Victor that Daphne was noticeably absent. He could swear on his last penny that it definitely had something to do with Fart-ton if he were to borrow Melanie's words.

He'd just arrived and looked less than stellar but he didn't care. He'd ridden in as fast as he could to fix the horrible mistake of letting her go.

If only he could find her.

He spied her cousin, Melanie, and approached her. Surely she'd know where her cousin was.

The girl spied him approaching and sniffed, turning her nose up at him, and rather than feel insulted, he took it in stride. He knew she was one of the staunchest supporters of his relationship with Daphne and she would have been greatly hurt when he'd let her get engaged to Percy.

"Miss Keats, I—" he began but was halted by Melanie's deathly glare.

"What do you want, Your Grace?" she asked rudely.

"Would you happen to know where your dear cousin is?" he asked, still looking around.

"What have you got there?" Melanie nodded towards the bundle tucked under his arms.

He stiffened. "Nothing, just something I need to give Harry."

"Oh."

"So, where is Lady Daphne?" he asked again, glancing around him.

Eyes were on him, sniffing at his appearance but he paid them no mind. He had only one goal in mind and that was to find Daphne and fix the stupid mess he'd made.

"I do not know," she answered. "I didn't even see her at breakfast."

Panic filled him as he wondered if anything had happened to her.

"Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"

The girl shook her head.

He thanked her and racked his brain trying to think of all the possible places she could have gone. Not being able to think of the most likely place, he settled on checking all of them until he found her.

* * *

After she had recovered from her crying episode, Daphne had thought it best to stay in the library. As far as she was concerned it wasn't worth the effort to force herself to socialize when she didn't feel in the mood to at all. She decided it was better to read a book.

"There you are."

Daphne looked up and saw Amelia and Harry standing at the doorway.

"We've been looking everywhere for you," her sister added.

"Oh. Is that so?"

"Yes! You were missed at the wedding breakfast. Is anything the matter?"

At that, Daphne looked down guiltily before meeting her sister's eyes. "I am sorry," she said looking up at her sister. "I was not really myself so I came here to pull myself together, so I don't ruin your happy day. Forgive me, please?"

"Of course, you are forgiven," Amelia stepped forward to gather her in a warm embrace.

"I feel there is more you want to tell me. There is no way the two of you left your wedding feast to find this spinster in this dusty library," Daphne said as she pulled back, waving a hand to encompass the room.

"First of all," Amelia started with a deep furrow of frustration on her brow, "you are not a spinster, so stop referring to yourself as such. And you were right, there is another reason why we were looking for you."

She looked at her husband and when he gave her an encouraging nod she continued "We wanted to talk to you about the duke."

Daphne's mood plummeted back down and she wrung her hands in an attempt to stem the flow of melancholy that was threatening to overwhelm her.

"What about him?" she asked in what she hoped was a normal voice.

"He loves you," Harry replied.

Daphne snorted. "Please. I assure you he does not feel that way about me. He told me himself."

"He was lying," Harry insisted.

"I assure you, His Grace is quite accomplished in a number of things, but none of them includes loving me. Besides, you have tried this before to get us to stop bickering. Trust me, we knew," she said smiling ruefully. "I guess it is a testament to our good acting skills that you thought we actually had romantic feelings for each other. I am sorry to inform you that it was all a ruse. An elaborate one, I would concede, but a ruse nonetheless."

Harry took a step forward. "I have been watching you both over the course of the last week, and while the both of you might pretend, it was really clear to anyone who cares to look closely that you were in love with each other. And it is quite frustrating that you are willing to throw away everything the two of you could have together simply because of fear."

Daphne gulped. They had discovered her. It was useless pretending not to care for Victor in front of them.

She took a deep breath before responding. "I can admit to both of you that I do love Victor. I fell for him from the first day I set my eyes on him at that ball four years ago. I thought he was the man that fate had sent me until he abandoned me and ran away without so much as a farewell. I am willing to accept that he doesn't love me even if it kills me. Do not attempt to placate me by insinuating that he cares," she said in a heated tone

"Well, Victor had written you several letters over the span of the last four years. He kept them to himself because he didn't want to raise your hopes and then disappoint you when he was not sure when he was going to return."

Daphne blinked. No, that's just part of their plan, she thought.

"While I appreciate the efforts both of you are making toward my happiness, I cannot believe this until I see proof. I am sorry," she said, turning away while blinking back tears.

"What if I were to provide proof?" a deep voice asked.

Daphne gasped, immediately recognizing it. Victor.

She looked up to see the duke standing at the doorway of the library, trying to catch his breath. It seemed the man had run all the way here, clutching a small bundle that was covered in cloth and tied with a rope.

"When did you get back, you oaf?" Harry asked laughing and went to hug his friend. "You missed the entire wedding!"

"Just now and I rode like the devil to get here," Victor panted.

"No wonder." Harry laughed. "You look as though you have been mugged by a flock of geese."

"Manners, darling." Amelia scolded.

"Congratulations on your wedding, Amelia. I wish you luck dealing with this man." Victor smiled at Daphne's sister. "You're going to need luck if you're going to be spending the rest of your life with this oaf." He laughed.

"Wait till you get married. You'll see what I will do."

"I am trying to do that now," he said, swallowing deeply as he looked at Daphne.

The mood turned somber again as the two of them stared at each other. Her heart still beat furiously in her chest for him. Even with his messy hair and skewed cravat, he was still the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Love still flowed through her even though he'd hurt her terribly. Apprehension swam in her gut as she wondered what he'd say.

As she watched, he advanced toward her and placed the bundle on the stool beside her.

"I think those letters will be proof enough. Please read them," he said, stepping back.

She frowned as he left the room altogether, disappointment filling her. She'd been expecting a grand proposal or testament of love and not the awkward conversation they'd just had.

Daphne opened the bundle painstakingly with hands that shook. She unraveled the bow and peeled back the cloth binding. She gasped as dozens of letters scattered over the floor.

"But these… they are…" she murmured.

With her basic understanding of arithmetic, she estimated that over a hundred letters pooled at her feet.

"I told you. He wrote you one letter each week he was away from you," Harry said gently as he helped her collect the scattered letters from the floor.

That would mean there are at least two hundred letters here, she thought. He has written me two hundred letters.

All envelopes were written in his masculine scrawl and addressed to her with no postal stamps to show that they were ever posted.

Once she, Harry, and Amelia had neatly placed the mountain of letters on a nearby desk, Amelia gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"We will give you some privacy," she said, taking Harry by the hand, and leaving the room, closing the door behind them.

Daphne sat down on the desk.

A letter for each week he was away.Her heart fluttered at the thought.

Slowly, she picked up one of the envelopes and opened it, her eyes pouring over the words.

Dear Lady Daphne,

If you ever read this, it means you have somehow charmed me into revealing my deepest secrets. You quite literally have my heart in your hands, so please be gentle.

I am not a man who waxes poetic. Still, meeting you under the cover of darkness, with the silver glow of moonlight highlighting your beauty has become one of the most beautiful experiences of my life—second only to seeing you smile.

I am your humble servant, always.

Yours faithfully,

A man who is in love with you.

The second letter had her blushing to the root of her hair.

Dear Temptress,

I have chosen to dub you so as you have haunted my waking and sleeping hours with your beauty. You, my darling, are an absolute beauty and there is no flaw in you.

From the crown of your head to your feet, I long to caress you with my hands and tongue and see if your nectar is as sweet as I have imagined it to be.

Kissing you has been the biggest joy of my life and my biggest regret because you have succeeded in ruining me for every other woman.

I dare not imagine what seeing you naked would do to me.

How can I banish you from my memory, vixen?

Yours faithfully,

Victor

She picked up the most recent letter, for if she were to read everything, her heart wouldn't be able to take it.

Dearest Daphne,

I have no words to describe what a fool I have been. I thought I could live without you and I could live knowing you'd belong to someone else. Now I know better.

You have permeated even the deepest recesses of my soul. I thought I'd hidden from you, and now I can't picture a future without you by my side.

I know the scandal it would cause to end your engagement for me, but I ask that you trust me to create a happy future for you.

I want to keep your days filled with laughter and your nights warm with pleasure.

Please put me out of my misery and say you'll fight my demons with me.

Yours, most sincerely,

Victor

Daphne sighed as she finished reading the letter, her heart torn in two. Victor had abandoned her too many times before for her to trust him again.

But the love blooming inside her as these words sank in made her want to risk it all with him.

She sighed, not knowing what to do.

"Daphne?" Melanie called stepping out from the shadows.

"Melanie! What— how long have you been here?"

"Long enough," she answered with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

"I don't know what to do," she admitted in a moment of weakness. "How can I trust him?"

"I do understand your plight, cousin, but I will ask you this one question. Would you prefer the future you'd share with Percy or the one you could have with Victor?"

The answer was clear in her heart. She was tired of lying to herself.

"The one I would have with Victor," she admitted.

"Then you have your answer." Melanie smiled. "Love conquers all, darling cousin. It might look scary to leap but the reward is so much better than you can imagine."

Having said her piece, Melanie skipped out of the library, leaving Daphne to her thoughts.

* * *

Victor ran a hand through his hair. He'd been leaning against the wall of the corridor for at least an hour, waiting for Daphne to come out when he saw Melanie emerging from the library. The young lady gave him a nod of acknowledgment and then walked on.

When is she coming out? he thought anxiously.

It was so clear to him now; he was in love with her. And he couldn't imagine a future for himself that didn't involve her. And the first step he could think of was showing her the letters he wrote to her on the cold, lonely nights he spent away from her. When the only thing that kept him sane was the thought of her safe several miles away from him.

In his letters, he told her of his experiences and how they changed him. He shared funny anecdotes that he imagined would make her laugh. Sometimes it was the imagined picture of her face lit with its excitement that kept him warm on the coldest of nights.

She had saved him in several ways and it was time to let her know. He quickly ran up several flights of stairs to reach his bedroom and rummaged through his luggage to find the small bundle that would convey his feelings.

When he'd arrived at the library, it was to find Daphne, the object of his thoughts. She'd been engaged in what looked like a fierce argument with Harry about his true intentions. He really appreciated the fact that his friend had taken time from a day that was supposed to be special to him to try and secure Victor's happiness.

He had to admit he was now indebted to both Harry and Amelia but was not surprised that the little sprite he was in love with refused to believe them. It broke his heart to think that he had made her believe that he didn't care for her. Everyone deserved love, most especially her.

"What is taking her so long?" he muttered to himself, his heart pounding in his chest.

He had to see her. He had to know that she realized the letters were a testament to his love for her. That somehow, they could convey even a sliver of his adoration for her.

A few more torturously long moments later, the door opened, and Daphne slipped out.

Victor jolted, standing upright, and Daphne gulped as their eyes met.

God, she is so beautiful, he thought to himself. Even through his turmoil, he could not stop himself from admiring her.

"Victor," Daphne said gently and bit her lip as she scanned the corridor. "Perhaps it's better we spoke in private."

Victor nodded and eagerly stepped closer as she opened the door to the library again. He motioned her to enter first. Turmoil or not, he was still a gentleman.

After closing the door behind him, he took a step closer to her.

"Daphne," he began, causing her to look up at him with her sparkling, emerald eyes. "I want you to know that I meant every word in those letters."

Daphne's breathing slowed, her gaze fixed on him.

This was his chance to make it right. Do not make a shambles of it.

"I love you, more than I can ever express in words. More than the words in those letters too." The words escaped him, his mind racing, eager and impatient to confess everything.

She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deceit. He knew all she'd find would be sincerity and raw emotion.

"I… I am uncertain… I do not know what to say, Victor," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

A shiver careened down his spine as she uttered his name. God, how desperate he was to hear it again.

He moved closer to her, taking her hands in his. "You do not have to say anything. Just know that I am here, that I love you, and that I am willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

"How do I know that you will not leave me again?"

Victor knew the answer to that question deep in his heart. He'd come with the intention of stopping her from marrying Percy, but selfishly, he wanted her for himself even though she was too good for him.

She was braver than him and had been the brave one throughout their arrangement. He knew if he was ever to have a future, there was no other woman he'd want by his side.

"I'd rather die than leave your side ever again," he answered knowing he'd never spoken truer words.

She looked deeply into his eyes and then a tiny smile formed on her pink lips.

"Sit with me a while then," she requested and he obliged, sitting beside her on the sofa next to the desk which was teeming with his correspondence.

He tried not to feel surprised when she rested her head on his shoulder and said nothing.

And in that moment, as they sat in the library surrounded by the musty smell of old books, Victor felt a glimmer of hope ignite in his heart.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for them to find happiness together after all.