Don’t make me love you again…
Daphne’s plea echoed in his ears. She really had stopped loving him then. It was the only explanation that made sense. It was no less than he deserved perhaps. Oh, but he had been so arrogant! He’d never imagined that he’d come back to England and find that Daphne didn’t want him anymore! That had never factored into any of his reasoning. She was supposed to be the impulsive girl of his memories, not a strong, intriguing woman who threatened his heart.
But he could fix it! Don’t make me love you again… Didn’t that mean she was already in danger of falling? He’d woo her, he’d seduce her, he’d do everything in his power to win back her heart-Edward didn’t know why that was suddenly so critical, but he knew that he needed it.
“Fine,” Anthony growled. “I’ll stay for the weekend as planned, after that-” he shot a pointed glare in Edward’s direction. “If, for any reason, I don’t think that Daphne’s safe, or appreciated, or happy here, I’m taking her back to Coventry with me.”
“Well, I-I suppose that’s fair enough,” Daphne nodded slowly.
“What?” Edward choked. “It is not-”
“Now, now Edward, object and you make it sound like Daphne isn’t safe here,” Anthony interrupted harshly. “Give me one reason and we’re out the door-”
“I won’t be dictated to in my own house,” Edward snapped furiously.
“Well, it looks like you don’t have much of a choice,” Anthony smirked. It took every ounce of self-control that Edward possessed to prevent him from throwing a punch in the direction of his former friend.
“I-I think that breakfast should be ready by now, maybe we should-” Daphne began, trying to calm the explosive situation. She was still so achingly hesitant that Edward felt a little of his anger melt away, although only a little, for he interrupted with a rough: “I have business to attend to here.” Daphne’s face fell.
“Well, I for one am starving,” Anthony glibly announced. “And if we are staying here for a few more days I suppose we may as well eat,” he said, nettling Edward further.
“You go on, Anthony. I’ll join you in a moment,” Daphne murmured softly.
Her brother frowned, but the sharp glare that Daphne shot his direction was enough to get him to leave her alone with Edward, albeit grudgingly. The moment that Anthony was out in the hall Daphne shut the door after him and hurried over to Edward.
Chapter 15
“Are you all right?” Daphne asked breathily, lifting a tentative hand to caress Edward’s poor cheek.
He had all but forgotten the pain throbbing in the left side of his face, but it seemed to return with a vengeance when Daphne lifted her concerned eyes to meet his own.
“I’m fine,” he sighed gruffly, unable to help but like the way that Daphne was fussing over him.
“I’m so sorry about my brother!” she blurted. “He’s just, well, he’s rather overprotective,” she mumbled feebly.
“I remember,” Edward chuckled darkly.
Daphne looked away and shifted uncomfortably. “He really had no right to behave that way in your house, but he’s just trying to look after me.”
“I know that, Daff,” Edward said softly. He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her head back so that he could again look deep into her eyes. “Do you think that you need protecting from me?” he asked gently. Daphne’s eyes widened, but Edward couldn’t fail to notice that she didn’t shake her head.
“I hope not,” she whispered.
“I would never mean to hurt you, Daff! Not again, not like before!” Edward said desperately, unable to stop the words from spilling forth.
Daphne privileged him with small, sad smile as she squeezed his hand. “I believe you think you mean that,” she murmured, which really didn’t do anything to comfort Edward at all.
“Daphne-” he rasped. It wasn’t just his face that was hurting now. The pain seemed to have spread throughout his entire body.
“It’s all right,” she murmured softly, her lips quirked upward in a little smile. “Just don’t do anything to upset Anthony while he’s here.”
“You wouldn’t really leave me?” Edward choked, and then an icy shiver trickled down his back. Why wouldn’t she; he’d left her after all.
Daphne licked her lips, hesitating, no doubt thinking the same thing as him. “You won’t give me a reason to,” she said at length.
“No,” Edward sighed in heavy agreement. He wouldn’t, because he couldn’t stand the thought of Anthony taking her away. “Daphne,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to her lips and kissing her soundly. “I’ve been such an idiot,” he growled in self-disgust.
“What do you mean?” Daphne gasped, but Edward didn’t reply. He simply returned to worshipping her lips, thrusting his tongue between her teeth and gorging on the sweetness that was his wife.
When they were both panting and breathless, Daphne wriggled reluctantly out of her husband’s arms. “If I don’t go to breakfast soon Anthony’s going to come back and collect me,” she grimaced, knowing what her brother could be like.
Edward made a growl of disapproval that shivered right through Daphne’s body. She was sore and tender from her awakening the night before, but now she understood what these achy twinges, that gripped her body whenever Edward was around, meant, and she look forward with longing to the next time that her husband might chose to sate them.
“How long until he leaves?” Edward grumbled.
Daphne’s lips twitched in a smile. “Monday morning. He usually leaves then at least,” she informed her husband, wishing that her brother’s visit had not had to fall so close to the date of Edward’s return. She was just learning what it meant to be a wife, and she didn’t want her tutelage interrupted! She might have been angry and upset with Edward, but she didn’t need Anthony’s interference!
“Go on then, go and breakfast with your brother,” Edward grunted, stealing another kiss, and then playfully tapping her behind when Daphne turned to leave.
“My Lord!” she squealed, but that only inspired one last heavy, drugging kiss to be bestowed by her husband. Daphne swayed dizzily in his arms.
“You were leaving, I believe?” he chuckled, raising an amused eyebrow.
Daphne felt her cheeks burn. What was it about Edward that made her take leave of her senses?
“I-yes- I was,” she said breathlessly, smoothly down her skirts and then sauntering quite light-headedly out of the study in the direction of the breakfast room.
Anthony had already started eating when Daphne arrived, (she had taken a rather slow walk to give her cheeks time to cool.) Her brother’s head snapped up the second that she walked into the room however, and he pierced her with his questioning gaze.
“Explain!” he barked, laying aside his plate of bacon.
“Explain what?” Daphne asked mildly. She felt more confident dealing with her bother alone, when he didn’t look like he might try to tear her husband’s head off.
“Edward,” Anthony forced out, spitting the name as though it was a vile taste upon his tongue.
“He came back,” Daphne said sweetly, helping herself to a cup of tea.
“And you welcomed him home with open arms?” Anthony growled. “Don’t you have any self-respect?”
Daphne stiffened. The same question had echoed through her mind almost continually since Edward reappeared.
For years she had imagined what she would say and do when-if- her husband returned. She imagined ignoring him completely. She imagined delivering cutting remarks. She had even indulged the fantasy of taking lovers of her own-to prove to him that she did not require-or desire-his love.
When Edward actually appeared, however, her plans were forgotten. All of her plotting had all been built around the cruel, monstrous image of the man that she imagined while he was gone. Silly, sixteen year old notions about love had faded-but her hate had dwindled too.
Standing close enough to inhale Edward’s scent and to watch his eyes
, she caught flashes of the boy who had played with her in the park at Packwood. Over the past few days, Edward had shown her that he was still capable of being funny, tender and concerned. There were moments when she remembered why she had claimed to love him.
There were reminders of his capacity for selfishness and anger as well. Although the memory of her first night as a proper wife made Daphne’s skin burn and tingle, she couldn’t quite forget what had provoked his outburst-how determined he had been to control and to punish her.
All in all, Daphne hadn’t quite decided how she felt-but she was certain about what she must do.
What did it really matter if she loved Edward again or not? She was his wife.
Anthony didn’t understand. He was a man. He had options. If he married and tired of his wife, he could move on with very little inconvenience or censure. For Daphne, divorce was out of the question. As hard and as lonely as Daphne’s life had been while Edward was away, it would be bleaker still if he set her aside. She would be cut off completely from society and perhaps even her family.
Daphne didn’t know if she could love Edward again, but she had to try. They had both changed. She was determined to find out if that had both changed enough to make their marriage work.
“We had words,” Daphne said after a long pause. “But we came to an understanding. An understanding,” she continued coldly, “that concerns only my husband and myself.”
Anthony looked far from happy about this line of reasoning on his sister’s part, but he held his tongue for once and went back to eating his breakfast. Daphne couldn’t manage so much as a bite, she sipped her tea sparingly and kept her eyes trained on the door, wondering if Edward would relent and join them for breakfast after all.
It seemed he would not.
Anthony excused himself, claiming business with his steward, and left his sister alone in the breakfast room. Daphne lingered until she became aware of the servants hovering nearby, waiting to clean up, and then she too excused herself and retreated to her sitting room, where she meant to partake of an hour or two of composing, mind-numbingly dull, embroidery.
Chapter 16
Dinner was hardly a happy affair. Duke of Berwick stopped by for an impromptu visit. Edward asked his old friend to stay and dine with them, but the Duke had a prior engagement and had only dropped by to say hello (and, Edward suspected, to check that things in the Coventry residence were quite all right after the Butterworth’s ball).
It would have been nice, Edward reflected, as he ate his way through a tender venison steak, if Berwick had stayed for dinner, so that he might have had at least one friendly face with which to converse. Anthony spent the entire meal spearing bits of food with his fork and looking like he wanted to take his knife to work on his host, and Daphne was unnervingly quiet, every time that Edward tried to engage her in conversation she rebuffed him.
Edward really didn’t know if he could endure a whole evening of this treatment and still keep his temper in check. He was just about to excuse himself, when Anthony declared his intention to visit Carr’s, and to Edward’s surprise he found that his brother-in-law had decided that it was safe to leave him alone with Daphne again.
“Probably left instructions with the servants to spy on us,” Edward murmured irritably under his breath.
“Pardon?” Daphne said, but her husband ignored her enquiry, instead he murmured “Carr’s” with a note of puzzlement, and looked to his wife for an explanation; there had certainly been no club of that name in the city when he’d left London six years before.
“It’s a-” Daphne wrinkled her nose with obvious distaste. “I believe that it’s a gaming house, of sorts, run by some sort of pirate, or that’s what I’ve heard at any rate.”
Edward nearly choked on the brandy he’d been nursing. “What?”
Daphne sighed. “The owner, a Mr. Carr, saved a cargo ship, I think it was the Lotus, from running aground and then guided her back to port. The entire cargo was declared a salvage to Mr. Carr’s account, and rather too kindly some might say. He bought himself a club. It’s rather successful,” Daphne frowned.
“And that’s a problem?” Edward mused curiously.
“It is when half of the ton are in debt to such an unscrupulous, ill-bred character!”
“You seem to know an awful lot about this man,” Edward said slowly, unable to prevent a wholly irrational flicker of jealousy. Daphne had but to take an interest in another man, even an unfavorable one, and he felt prickled.
“Mr. Carr provided the ton with a whole season’s worth of gossip and scandal five years ago. I was indebted to him then,” continued conversationally. “I believe that Mr. Carr was at the Butterworth’s ball. I’m surprised you didn’t notice him. He’s rather-” Daphne paused to search for the right word.
Edward supplied a few of his own: old, ugly, fat…
“-hard to miss.”
Edward grumbled into his glass and finished the rest of his brandy. An uncomfortable silence fell after that topic of conversation had been exhausted. They had retired to the drawing room after dinner, and the room felt far too large and formal for just the two of them. Edward was just considering helping himself to a second drink, when his eyes alighted on the piano.
“Play for me?” he murmured softly. Daphne looked up from her lap with a little start. “Would you play for me, Daff?” Edward repeated more politely, offering her a small, almost boyish smile, which seemed to do the trick.
“If you like,” she nodded, speaking quietly. Edward sat down in a chair from which he could best observe his wife, watching her appreciatively as she crossed the room and settled herself on the piano stool. “What would you like me to play?” she asked, glancing over at him with her entrancing misty eyes.
“Whatever you would like me to hear.”
Daphne shot him a curious little glance, but then turned her attention to the instrument. Edward didn’t recognize the piece that his wife chose to perform, but he let the notes wash over and absorb him. It was beautifully bittersweet, not quite as haunting and raw as the piece Edward had found her playing that night,but there was still an undercurrent of sadness that made his heart ache.
“Daff?” he said gently, once she had finished playing and was simply staring quietly at the keys. “Is something wrong?”
She blinked at him uncertainly. “Why would you ask that?” she murmured, playing a few random cords to keep her hands busy. Edward stood and crossed the room, resting his hip against the side of the piano as he stared down at his wife, as if trying to decipher a particularly perplexing puzzle.
“Because you don’t seem happy, Daphne,” he breathed at length. He wanted her to respond with a swift: of course I’m happy, Edward! Only she didn’t. “Daphne?” he pressed, hating the low note of desperation that had crept into his voice.
“I spent so many years dreaming that you would come home, Edward,” she said softly. “And now you have, and… it’s not how I imagined.”
Edward stared down at Daphne, his mouth had gone very dry, and it was suddenly hard to swallow. What was she trying to say? That she didn’t want him back? That he was a disappointment? That she was going to go home with her brother and leave him behind?
“What do you mean?” he croaked, feigning a cough to cover the raw quality of his voice.
Daphne stood up and looked Edward calmly, if sadly, in the eye. “You’re not the same man who left me when I was sixteen, are you Edward?”
He didn’t quite know how to answer that; of course he wasn’t exactly the same man. Too much time had passed. Too many things had happened. “You’re not the same girl either, Daphne,” he said, by way of defending himself. His wife simply sighed and smiled.
“No, I didn’t say that I was. I had to grow up,” she admitted quietly.
“What does that mean, Daphne?”
“I think it means,” she said slowly, “that we have to get to know each other again.”
Or for the first time even… Ed
ward silently amended. Really, all he had ever truly known about his wife was vague memories from when they had been children.
“All right,” he nodded, that didn’t sound so terrible after all. “Tell me something then,” he grinned. “Something that a husband should know.”
“Such as?” Daphne giggled.
Edward gave his shoulders a thoughtful shrug. “Something simple to start with, something you like,” he mused playfully. “Your favorite color? I’m sure I should know that.”
“Well, I’m rather partial to pink,” Daphne confessed, and Edward thought that it was a perfect answer, given that ‘pink’ was definitely the current shade of her cheeks. There was a spark of brightness in his wife’s eyes again now too, and it made Edward’s heart light to see it.
“Splendid,” Edward grinned. “I shall ensure that I never forget it.”
Daphne nodded and giggled. “And you?”
“I am not overly partial to pink, I must confess,” Edward said seriously. “It really doesn’t suit me too well,” he added with a straight face that made Daphne laugh even harder.
“Oh Edward, play properly!” she giggled. “Tell me something that you like?” she beamed.
I like it when you laugh… the words almost slipped off Edward’s tongue, but he held them back, too afraid that they might break the suddenly happy and light atmosphere that had washed over them both.
“I like,” he began thoughtfully, and then a wistful look crossed his face. “I like riding across the meadows back at Packwood, and fishing in the trout stream, and I like reading in the kitchen gardens where you can smell the herbs,” he chuckled. “Cook was forever scolding me for trampling her parsley when I was a boy.”
“You like it there, more than here?” Daphne asked curiously. “We could go back if you do, couldn’t we?”
“Perhaps,” he said, but didn’t commit to anything. He sat down on the sofa and patted the seat beside him. “But you owe me two more likes, I gave you three,” he grinned.
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