Chapter 5

"Your integrity continues to decline, Your Grace."

"It seems I am no longer needed here…" Harry said.

"Stay!" she said sharply. "Please, my lord," Daphne added softly. She needed a buffer with the duke, otherwise she might leap across the table. She had never considered herself capable of such things until she met Victor.

Daphne feared that if she stayed alone with him, she would have to ask about that night. Or spill the pathetic fact that she knew he remembered their kiss and that she meant nothing to him.

"My integrity is unquestionable. Yours, on the other hand…"

Her voice got a little higher. Mostly because of that arrogant smirk. "You did compare yourself to corrupt kings in the past; nothing surprises me anymore."

Harry suppressed a laugh behind his palm, earning a glower from Victor.

Victor made a chiding sound while shaking his head, "You would even twist my words to squirm out of the agreement."

Out of the corner of her eyes, Daphne saw that traitor Melanie reemerge. "I am not squirming!" she exclaimed.

Melanie simply made herself scarce again. Amelia could not be held back anymore. She bolted over to their side and almost dragged Daphne from the table. As she left, Victor said, "I will see you soon, Lady Daphne."

Amelia blocked her off under the staircase. Good, Daphne could finally tell Amelia about the duke antagonizing her. Surely, they could see he was the one at fault. She had not missed the way people stared or that her mother's face had gone red from mortification.

If she just explained… he sought her out! She did not…

"Are you jealous that I am getting married before you?" Amelia spat.

Daphne reared back. Of all the things she had expected, that was not it.

She made to take her sister's hand and hers was slapped away. "What? Of course not! I am happy for you!"

"No, you are clearly not! I am not the reason why you have not found a match in four years. Nor did I ever stop you from being married."

"Wait, Amelia, you are wrong. This is…"

"Sabotage? You want to ruin my wedding because you cannot have yours? We told you to marry Percy. Why would you reject him, only to create trouble with Harry's best friend? A duke for that matter! Have you lost your mind? What has come over you?"

Daphne's face paled under the onslaught of her sister's attack. Her eyes burned, and her body ached. She closed her eyes, attempting to block off those words.

She lowered her head to hide the pain in them, "I am sorry."

"Sorry will resolve nothing! Just stop this, immediately! You are embarrassing our family, and Percy's. What if you choose to be married to him and his family rejects you, due to this dalliance with the duke? Does he seem like he is likely to be married? Does he?"

"Amelia!" Melanie called, coming up behind Daphne. Daphne did not even bother to look. She was weak to her bones. Her source of misfortune was seated in that hall having fun. She could not blame her tense sister. She knew her nerves were in a bind, because of the upcoming wedding.

The worst part was that she had allowed Victor to get under her skin again. It was just one kiss. He was right, why did she have to carry the torch for his nonchalant promise?

Melanie slid her hand through hers, "It is not Daphne's fault. I was there. At dinner, you placed the duke next to her and he kept trying to speak with her."

"And she could not respond with a civil tone? Do you not care at all for manners? Need I remind you that he is an established gentleman?"

"He kept bothering her," Melanie tried to defend Daphne again.

"I do not care if he stands upside down, seeking her attention. Ignore him. I do not want any incidents. Do you understand?"

Daphne nodded once, her lips clamped together. Amelia marched back to the card room. Melanie tugged her hand, "Come on, let me accompany you back."

"I think I want to lie down," Daphne interjected.

"Very well, I will accompany you."

There was an awkward silence as they came out of the main house into the night. Melanie's hand tightened on hers. "I should not have left you alone with him. I am sorry, I was afraid that mother would see, and…I did not want to ruin anything before her son arrived."

"I understand," Daphne said, understanding nothing of the sort. Melanie exhaled, which validated her lie.

Daphne focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She allowed the night air to cool her heated insides. The gas lamps on long poles lit their path toward the house that had been assigned to her family. They shared the large house with two other families, both of whom had no children and were young or new couples.

A couple of guests greeted them on their way, but Daphne did not look up to register their faces.

"If I were in that same situation, I would like His Grace too," Melanie said as they crossed the threshold.

"I never said I did."

"It is written all over you. He saved you. You are not wrong to fall for his wiles. You should remember that, no matter what happens."

Daphne's lower lip quivered. Melanie. Her steps faltered. She steadied herself and straightened her form, walking as though there was a metal rod stuck up her spine.

"But I do have to remind you that your sister is not entirely wrong. Avoid His Grace, do not let him antagonize you."

They mounted the stairs. Daphne stiffened and removed her hand from Melanie's. "I am not letting him do anything, and I did tell you that he means less than nothing to me."

"If you insist. I have to find someone to take me back to the hall. I do not think I can sleep early."

"Fine," Daphne retorted. She stormed to her bedchambers and yanked the door open. She was about to slam it when she recalled Amelia's helpless face. She closed it gently. Her maid arrived a few minutes later. Daphne was helped out of her clothes and her evening cleansings done. She slid under the sheets and tried to calm her raging thoughts.

The next morning, after breakfast, she saw her sister standing on the verandah at the back of the house. Daphne wanted to find a quiet spot where she could read the book she had found in the library. Amelia gave her an apologetic smile. "I am–" she started and Daphne stopped her. Daphne could not have her sister apologize when she was in the wrong.

She looked down and saw that Amelia held a bunch of flowers. "What are you doing with those?"

"Oh, I wanted to put them up myself."

"They did not understand the exact distance you wanted?"

Amelia's lips in a tired, exasperated smile. Around her eyes, there were dark circles. It was not prominent yet, but if she continued to push herself, she would get the fever. It would not be easy to convince Amelia to let go without a good reason as she liked having things done a certain way.

"Here, let me help you. Mother wants you to rest before you have to greet guests at noon."

"Will you?" Amelia asked, her eyes brightening. She pushed the entire bunch into Daphne's arms. Daphne barely had time to secure her book and hold the flowers. "I will go now. I do need some sleep."

Daphne gave her sister a curious glance. "Why am I feeling suspicious?"

Amelia shrugged innocently, "Whatever do you mean, dear sister?"

Daphne's eyebrows furrowed as she glanced around. There was no one around. Most of the guests had retired to their rooms. Some men were in front, fiddling with their horses and talking amongst themselves. It was the reason why Daphne had come to the back.

Amelia had seen her take the book. "You knew I would come here. You just want me to avoid the duke."

"No," Amelia, who had never really been able to lie, squealed in a high tone while shaking her head with emphasis. "Could you? Thank you!" She turned on her heels and walked into the house. Daphne rolled her eyes. Carefully, she went to the divan and allowed the book to slide onto it.

She climbed down the six stairs, then bent to place the flowers on the floor. She plucked a small bunch and began to map out the pavement. The flowers had a pleasant fragrance. Anyone who decided to use the divan would enjoy it. And it did beautify the stark appearance.

Daphne had a sudden idea to create shapes out of the petals. To do that, she had to perch on the top stair, and reach up. She secured her hair with another strand at the back of her head then traipsed to the top step with some petals. They would go into the railing.

She held the pillar in one hand, to steady herself and climbed up the pavement. She stuck the first one into the hole, the second, and the third. The star-like shape was coming together. Daphne was pleased and was certain that Amelia would love it too.

The last one had to be at the peak, then she would return for another. Daphne could not quite reach it and had to go closer to the pavement. Her right arm was occupied with holding the pavement. She had to steady herself but stepped on the hem of her dress.

Daphne's foot slipped and fear leaped into her as she tried to grab the railing and failed. She started to crash toward the steps with a muted scream.

A pair of strong arms slid under her, just before her back could hit the ground.

"Always call for help, my lady, someone might be watching."

Blue eyes blazed down on her, with a worried expression that contrasted with his amused tone. Daphne closed her eyes, hoping it would be a terrible, terrible dream.

* * *

Victor left his quarters, his mind plagued with thoughts from the previous night. When Daphne did not return, he had gone to see if she was in trouble. He had overheard a fraction of their talk with her sister.

He hoped she would defend Daphne. He could not interfere in their private affairs, not in that manner, without embarrassing Daphne. By morning, his worry for her state of being had intensified. He went to search for her. She was not inside the house with her family, so he went to the back.

He found her gathering flowers into her arms. Her hair was loose over her shoulders, her face brighter than the early morning sun. Her rosy lips were pursed in concentration. Lips that had kept him awake. She checked if her hair was secure and picked up some flowers, then started to climb the pavement.

Victor watched her with mounting interest.

Partly, he wanted to remind her of their kiss. Sometimes, it burned at the tip of his tongue. Each time, he only had to recall his father's face, his mother's downtrodden shoulders, and the other women he ruined. Once that happened, he chose to swallow those feelings. Daphne did not deserve such pain. Too beautiful, too innocent…too?—

…about to hurt herself! Victor dashed forward in alarm. He slammed his arms under her, grabbing Daphne just before she could hit the step. Relief shot through Victor's veins as he stared down at her face.

Why would she not scream for help?

"The ground is quite close, I knew I would not die if I fell," she insisted, yet her tone was shaky. Her face was the shade of snow, as she avoided his gaze. Victor hated seeing her this terrified. She attempted to stand and he brought her to an upright position.

"You could still have hurt yourself, so you are welcome," he said. He kept his hand on the small of her back until she steadied herself. Victor wanted that flush back on her cheeks. He peered at the work she had been doing. "Besides, what an eyesore is this!"

She wheeled around, her loosened hair flying in the morning breeze.

"An eyesore!"

"Is that supposed to be a circle? Or were you creating a shapeless blob?"

She gasped, her face flooding with color. "How dare you! You have no idea how these decorations are done!"

Victor grinned and leisurely strolled to that pile of flowers. He picked some from there and walked down, closely followed by an enraged Daphne.

"Give that back, Your Grace!" She tugged on them, "You will ruin everything!"

"Give me a chance," Victor said. "You might be surprised. Again."

Annoyed, she retorted. "Oh, you are shameless. You would actually mention that cheating streak!" She tugged harder, taking Victor by surprise as she twisted. The petals snapped and cascaded to the ground.

She huffed out what sounded like a cuss word. "You ruined it! Are you happy now? I told you to leave it alone, but you would not listen! Now, see!"

"I see," Victor said.

"You will make this up to my sister, these flowers are important to her."

"Will that appease you too?"

She bit into her lips, before raging, "Which part, the insults or–"

Victor cussed, pulled her to him, and cut her off with a sweltering kiss. Ah, finally. His heart thundered in his chest, as the familiarity of her taste awakened in his taste buds.

She mumbled something he could not understand. Her hands were fisted on his chest. He waited, with bated breath to be pushed away. He hoped she would not. Because for the first time since his return, everything made perfect sense. Those fingers slid from his chest, trailed up his neck, and intertwined with his hair.

Shockwaves traveled through Victor's body. He exhaled a string of shaky breaths and pressed her soft body closer. Victor's tongue penetrated the sweetness of her mouth.

She made a sound that maddened Victor, her hands urging him closer. They ravaged each other's mouths. She poured all the frustration from their encounter into the kiss, matching him with every thrust.

Her chest rose and fell on his, their plump surface driving him to the edge. His body responded to her touch as though she were rushing lava and he, defenseless earth, scorched by her.

Four years, he had dreamed of this. Four years where he convinced himself that it could not have been that good. But kissing her was earth-shattering. He led her toward the wall behind them and pinned her between his arms.

His fingers grazed her smooth neckline, flitting downwards. She moaned his name. Through the haze of need, Victor noted that she liked to be touched there.

All of a sudden, she broke the kiss and tried to leave his arms. Victor's senses were a bit clouded, but he allowed it. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. She darted a furtive glance toward the door.

"Foo-footsteps," she stammered.

Victor laughed, finding her disquiet endearing. "Have I fully repaid my debt?" he asked. "That was the only way I could stop you from speaking."

"Debt?" she repeated, blinking at him. "That was to shut me up?" She wiped her palm across her lips, "Stay away from me!" She grabbed a book on the divan and stomped inside the house.

Victor scrubbed a hand over his face. He was the world's biggest fool.