Chapter 4

"We are to have dinner in a few minutes. You are not to cause any trouble. Sit there, eat your food, and make polite conversation. Do you understand?" Lady Wallace warned Daphne.

"Yes, Mother," Daphne replied meekly.

She was just the tiniest bit embarrassed by her reaction to Victor. The man's presence alone was infuriating. He had the audacity to attend her sister's wedding and antagonize her.

Lady Wallace said, "Daphne? You are biting your lips again. If you do anything unseemly at the table, I will personally have you bundled back home."

Melanie slipped her hand through Daphne's as they left her room. She was dressed in another gown. Thankfully, the maid promised to get the stain out of the other.

Still, it did not quell Daphne's anger. They entered the dining area and Daphne's stomach did the undignified rumbling. The table was laden with several kinds of food and fruits, emitting fragrant aromas that made her mouth water.

Subconsciously, she scanned the room for Victor. He was not in the vicinity. Daphne insisted to herself that she was rather relieved. She spotted the Sufforks gathered in a small circle. Percy saw her enter and made his way toward them. Daphne would have been flattered, had he not stared at the cleavage of every woman he passed on the way.

"I heard you had a fallout with the duke because of me," Percy said.

"You find it easy to flatter yourself, Percy. No such thing happened."

If he possessed any shame, Percy would have left. Rather, he smirked. Daphne knew that look meant he took her words for a lie. "Oh…you just decided to be rude to him. That seems plausible."

Daphne sighed. It really was useless explaining to Percy. Besides, she had only herself to blame for flaring up at the duke.

"We should go to dinner. They are waiting."

"Good, you will sit beside me. Tell me all about this spat you had."

Daphne would really rather skip the whole meal than reprise that awful encounter. They reached the table, only to find that names were assigned to the seats. A triumphant smile lit her face when she saw Percy's name next to his parents.

His lips curved in a displeased smile.

"Wait here, I will switch these."

"No!" Daphne shouted. A number of eyes swung in her direction. Subtly, Daphne cleared her throat. "I mean, your parents might need you."

"You are trying to be rid of me, are you?"

"How can I? You are everywhere."

Daphne hurried toward the head of the table. She saw her sisters' names, her parents, Melanie was next to her mother. Then her own, finally. She grabbed the back of the chair when her gaze flickered to the next name.

"The Duke of Kensington?" she muttered in anger. She pushed her chair back inside and made to turn when she came up to a man's chest. The devil himself grinned down at her.

"My name alone terrifies you. I would have thought it would be the other way."

Daphne stopped breathing, simply because he was bathed in an intoxicating scent. It was a reminder of that night when her senses swam with it. And that towering arrogant confidence, when he saved her. If only he was not a despicable rake—even worse than Percy.

"In your imagination," Daphne said tightly.

He placed his hand on the back of her chair, mere inches from hers. "You were not about to change our names? Daphne, you make a very bad liar."

It should have been impossible to feel the heat coming from that hand, but it scalded Daphne's anyway. She raised her chin and crossed her arms.

"You are in my way," she said coldly. "And it is Lady Daphne to you."

"And to where are you fleeing this time?"

"That is no concern of yours."

"Your dress, I should replace it."

Daphne stepped to the side, with the intention of leaving. "It will be washed. I have no need for a new one. Thank you."

He blocked her. "It is my obligation. Will you rob me of that too?"

Daphne snorted, an unladylike sound she instantly regretted. He brought out the worst in her. What in the world did he mean by too?

"That word has no meaning to you."

"Robbery?" he chuckled, his entire face lit up. Those eyes brightening. "I assure you, I met my share of robbers on the ship. Chaps will claw out your eyes for a coin."

Daphne's lips became a thin line. It was a slap in the face that he would act willfully ignorant.

"Step aside, Your Grace."

"Too descriptive? I apologize. I forgot that you are a lady. It is much for your soft ears."

"I am not weak, if that is your implication, you condescending…" Daphne said tersely. He cocked his left eyebrow, waiting for her to complete the sentence. God, he was infuriating.

She yanked out her chair and plopped down on it, almost tripping on her dress.

He leaned down, pretended to take a fork, while whispering in her ear, "My, you still blush beautifully."

Thrilling chills traveled down her spine as his voice breezed past her. She refused to look at him as he settled on his chair and twirled that fork nonchalantly between his fingers.

Just then, Harry and Amelia emerged. Victor's attention was taken by Harry, while Daphne stewed into the plates in front of her. Finally, Melanie and her mother broke apart from the group with which they were chatting. More guests were filling the seats, and Daphne's blood throbbed with annoyance.

"You will not believe who I just met!" Melanie said, dropping in next to her.

"I believe you," Daphne said in a surly tone. "What is it?"

Melanie noticed the person seated next to her and her expression cleared, "Do you want to switch seats?" she whispered.

"No. Who did you meet?"

"If you are certain…" Melanie said. She flattened her palms on the table, her face glowing with excitement. "I was talking to Lady Elizabeth. She's Sir Wilberforce's mother. She told me about his search for a wife. She said I would be the perfect fit for her family. Oh, I can hardly wait to be introduced."

Daphne smiled, "I am happy for you, dear. When does she plan to introduce you?"

"The day after tomorrow. He will join the hunt. Mother says he is very good at it."

"Mother?"

Melanie grinned, "Yes. She asked me to call her mother. Oh, can you believe it? I will be married soon!"

Daphne took her hand, "Melanie, slow down. You have to meet him first. He could be…"

"Some brave people admire risk, even court it," a dark, amused voice whispered by her side. Daphne ignored him.

She continued, "… outside your taste."

"Taste? Daphne, have you seen his mother? I hear he takes after her. I have never laid my eyes on a more gorgeous woman. Well, except you of course."

"Patronizing, you are far gone."

Victor said, "I know the man; she's right. He exceeds your peacock fiancé in every way."

Daphne dropped Melanie's hand and faced him. "Your Grace, it is impolite to eavesdrop on people."

"When you are speaking that loudly, I doubt if it qualifies."

What fiancé?

"I am not loud…" Daphne screeched. Her sharp voice attracted her sister's eye. Amelia glared at her. Her mother gave her a look, too. Harry called the attention of the room by clinking the glass with his knife.

He made a short speech, welcoming his guests and thanking them. He invited them to enjoy the food. Once the greetings ended, Harry took his seat and utensils got busy on the plates.

Daphne's fingers were balled up in her lap. She stared at a bowl of soup, having lost her appetite.

"If you are referring to Percy, you are not half the man he is."

He flinched and satisfaction flooded Daphne. Smiling, she reached for a ladle and started to fill her bowl.

Victor murmured, "Thank God. Those coats alone are hazardous. Imagine if there were two of him."

"Oh, you are right. You are a horrible category all on your own."

"You wound me, Lady Daphne."

"Good, maybe the pain will make you a better person."

"Oh, let us not go that far. Great kings come from rotten backgrounds. I have all the makings, it appears."

"You will mutilate history just to make a point."

That fork twirled as he drawled, "I can give you a multitude of examples."

"None of that matters, Your Grace. I would appreciate it if you stopped speaking to me."

Daphne focused on putting one spoonful after another in her mouth. Five, ten minutes passed, and he did not speak a word. She forced back the guilt rearing its head. He deserved it, for acting like it was all right.

She watched the minute hand on the clock make another round.

"Do I repel you, my lady?" he asked quietly.

Daphne did not know when she let out a hushed breath. "What do you think?"

He chuckled, "You are a little delight."

"You little…" Daphne's sister glared. Daphne swallowed her words.

"Uh… Daphne, your mother says you should remember her words," Melanie cautioned.

Their heated whispered words had managed to attract the attention of the guests, without Daphne's notice. Percy's eyes danced between her and the duke. She renewed her vow to stay silent, no matter what he did or said.

A few minutes ago, she had fallen for his sunken demeanor and that repelling question. The food disappeared quickly to the tired guest's stomachs. Daphne allowed Melanie to lead her to the drawing room.

There were several tables arranged around the large room. Usually, the women would retreat to another room, leaving the men to smoke and play cards. Harry would not have it. The cards on the table were for all of them. Daphne settled on one of the tables, glad that there were no names this time.

If Victor had any dignity, he would not attempt to sit by her again. That trail of thought hardly dissolved when Victor sauntered in. He stood by the door and scanned the room. His form was imposing, his stature hardly unnoticeable.

Naturally, people gravitated toward him. There was no smile, or that annoying glint in his eyes. It was curious. Daphne felt like he was a different person. He accepted their greeting with a cold detachment. This side of Victor was intimidating. This was the man who had saved her from that pervert.

"I think I understand now why you made that choice," Melanie said beside her. Daphne looked at her cousin.

"Please do not speak of him."

Melanie cleared her throat, with a big smile, "I meant your dress. I understand why you chose it." Daphne made a snickering sound.

She snuck a glance at the door again. Victor was gone. She swung her head around, to search the room.

"Looking for me?" Victor asked in front of her.

Daphne turned, a blush furiously filling her cheeks. "How do you always manage to show up where you are least wanted?"

He took the chair beside her. That stupid smirk was back on his face. He grabbed a pile of cards. "Let's play."

"And if I win, you never show your face around me again."

One side of his full lips tilted up, "That might be a little difficult."

"And why is that?"

He shuffled the cards. "It would be unfair to you, my lady."

"I will decide what is fair. Do you accept my terms?"

Daphne had had a lot of spare time after the seasons. Each one was longer than the last. She had taught herself card games, among many other minor interests. No one in her family could match her. She did not know the duke's capabilities, but if he were anything like the stories, then he must have frequented these tables.

She just needed to win once. After that, she never had to deal with Victor Anderson again. A part of her revolted against the plan. She would be the last to admit that she enjoyed their spats. It was a welcome distraction from her mother who would have had her speaking to three different mamas otherwise, in a bid to link her with their sons.

In any case, Daphne met the duke's amused gaze with her fierce one. This man was dangerous. It wounded her more that she had to pretend not to remember. That she had to recall everything he had said at the ball. He could grin at her all he wanted, but Daphne could not forget, nor could she allow herself to be fooled.

"Fine."

"What if I win?"

"You will not," Daphne replied, determined to wipe that smug grin off his face.

* * *

"You cheated! You are cheating!" Daphne accused, slapping her card down on the table.

Victor effected a fake frown and crossed his arms. "I won, four times in a row. Miss Keats, do you also think I have used underhanded means?"

The other girl ducked her head and mumbled something about a drink. She fled the table, leaving him with Daphne.

"She does not agree."

Harry hurried over, worry etched on his face. Victor looked around to find that her little exclamation had attracted attention. Her mother whispered something hotly to Lord Wallace. Amelia was restrained by her father.

Victor leaned back and soaked it in. He was regretful that the peacock was not in the room. He had played slowly, so he would arrive, but the boy must have caught one of his feathers in a trap.

He should have come to see the passion in his fiancée's eyes when she played. The fullness of her laughter when she neared a win. Her blazing eyes when she was annoyed. Or those freckles emblazoned on her pink skin when she was embarrassed.

Victor brought that out of her. The peacock could never share that claim. However, she was glaring at him now as though he could be decimated with a glance.

"What…eh…what appears to be the problem this time?" Harry asked, dropping into the seat that had been vacated by Melanie.

"She thinks…"

"He cheated!"

Victor picked up one card and ran his fingers along the rim, "There is the problem."

"My lady…" Harry started. She cut him off.

"Play with Lord Lutton. If you win two hands, I will concede."

"Ah, how should I put this, my lady? Kensington hardly ever loses. Do not be offended; we all hate him for it. We think something went wrong in his head, which made him incapable of forgetting anything."

"What?"

"I would rather not toil with him. I swore never to engage him in a game ever. It is a matter of pride at this point."

Harry spoke nonsense of course. Victor should have mentioned to the good lady that on some weeks, when his father's madness filled to the brim and spilled, he had to earn money.

He could not ask anyone for money; they would laugh at him behind his back. His mother's happiness and face were already wounded by the man. The best Victor could do was to frequent those gaming halls and play like his life was dependent on the wins because it was.

Those wins fed him and his mother for those weeks when his father refused to attend to their needs, simply because he could.

"Then he lied to me. Which nullifies his wins."

"I never lied. You dared me to play."

She crossed her arms. The smooth, creamy flesh on his chest swelled. Distractingly. Victor kept his gaze on the card, even if every fiber of his being wanted to look. "Well," she said with a grudging tone. "If you had such expertise, you would have mentioned it."

"Where has that ever been done?" Victor drawled. "You play to your advantage. You owe me now, Lady Daphne. And I will collect my due soon."