And so, before the opportunity was lost, Daphne turned and reached out, placing her hand lightly upon Brendon’s arm. “My lord, if I were to tell you something in confidence, would you give me your word not to repeat it?” she asked, eyeing him intently. “Not to anyone?”
Brendon glanced down at the hand resting atop his forearm and then back up to Daphne, the sudden gravity of her tone catching him unawares. “A confidence?” he replied, cocking his head to one side as he studied her face.
Daphne merely nodded as she continued to look deeply into his eyes. Could she trust him or was she making a terrible mistake? Would he even consider her proposition, or would he scoff at her audacious proposal, leaving her embarrassed and completely humiliated. The discomfiting thoughts were all racing through her mind as she waited for him to respond.
“You have my word,” he said, noting the seriousness of her expression.
Daphne lifted her fingers from his forearm, and then dropping her hands she clasped them together in front of her. “I’m engaged to be married,” she confessed quietly, “though the official announcement has yet to be made.”
Brendon wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to hear, but that certainly wasn’t it. Shocked by the unexpected announcement, he found himself temporarily at a loss for words. “Oh,” he finally said. “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order then,” he continued, smiling graciously as he digested the unforeseen bit of information. “Might I inquire as to which lucky gentleman has been awarded such an extraordinary honor?”
“I’d…rather not say,” Daphne hedged.
Brendon’s brow furrowed as he regarded her curiously.
“He’s not someone I would have chosen for myself,” she confessed. “In all honesty, I haven’t the slightest desire to marry him at all.”
Brendon’s expression was searching now. “And yet you’ve agreed to his proposal?”
“I assure you, my lord, that I had very little choice in the matter,” she said softly. Casting her eyes downward, she focused upon the pattern in the marble floor as she continued to speak. “My brother has squandered the money he inherited from my parents, you see, and regrettably I am to be his salvation.”
“I see.” Though hers was hardly an isolated case, for money was generally the motivating factor in Society marriages, he felt badly for her all the same. “I’m sorry,” Brendon said quietly and with utter sincerity.
“If not for my younger sister’s wellbeing, I would have refused the match and gladly taken my chances on the street.” She looked up meeting his eyes once again. “But to insure her continued welfare I have agreed to marry a man I despise, a man old enough to be my grandfather,” she said, fighting to keep the bitterness from her voice.
Watching as Daphne struggled for control, Brendon felt his anger quickly mounting as he silently damned Thomas Hewitt for the reckless, self-serving bastard that he was. If only George were still alive, he thought regretfully. “If it’s money you need-”
“No,” Daphne held up her hand to keep him from continuing. “That is incredibly generous of you, my lord, but I couldn’t take your money,” she said, shaking her head.
“Nonsense,” Brendon declared vehemently. “As I mentioned to you the night we first met, your brother George and I were the closest of friends. I swear to you, Lady Daphne, that it would be an honor for me to help you and your sister in any way that I can.”
“Thank you, my lord. You have no idea how much your kind offer means to me, but I have accepted my fate and I will adhere to the arrangement my brother has made,” she stated with quiet conviction. “But nonetheless, there is something else that I would ask of you, something rather…unorthodox.”
The sudden hesitance in her tone, combined with the word unorthodox, gave Brendon a moment’s pause, thus he hesitated a moment before asking, “And that would be?”
Daphne took a deep breath before speaking. “As a child did you believe in fairytales, my lord?”
Brendon was instantly nonplussed. What on earth did fairytales have to do with the topic of their discussion? “Fairytales?”
“Romantic stories, those filled with desire, passion and abiding love, those that ended in the perfect happily ever after,” she clarified.
“I…, well I-” he faltered, completely unsure of how to respond to such a question.
“I suppose stories such as those appeal far more to young girls than they do to boys,” Daphne said, smiling softly at his sudden discomfort. “They certainly appealed to me, anyhow.”
Studying Daphne’s expression, Brendon felt a growing sense of unease. Desire, passion, abiding love? “I’m not sure I understand…,” he trailed off, silently praying that his sudden suspicions were wrong.
This was it. There was no turning back now. Daphne took another deep breath and looked him squarely in the eye. “I know it may sound silly, but ever since I was a little girl I have yearned for a fairytale of my own,” she began. “But alas, I know now that it isn’t to be.” And though her voice had begun to tremble, she staunchly continued on. “Therefore, I have decided that if I am to give up the abiding love and happily ever after I have always dreamed of, I would like to at least know what it is to experience desire, to experience passion,” she finished, her expression beseeching as she met his wide-eyed gaze.
Oh hell! “Daphne… I… surely you cannot expect…” he stammered, struggling to articulate a suitable response.
Despite his obvious shock, Daphne pressed on. “It is rumored that your skills in the bedchamber are unsurpassed,” she stated boldly.
Brendon’s mouth dropped open. “God’s teeth,” he exclaimed. “Where on earth did you hear such a thing?”
Daphne shrugged. “The scandal sheets, gossip rags, and you would be amazed at the things even the most well-bred ladies will whisper about behind their fans,” she replied honestly.
“I cannot believe that we are having this conversation,” Brendon uttered in disbelief, shaking his head to and fro.
Once again Daphne placed her hand lightly upon his arm. “I realize that my request is both shocking and utterly scandalous, but I beg of you, my lord, please won’t you at least consider it?”
Dear God, she didn’t expect him to toss up her skirts right then and there, did she? No, surely not. So what was she suggesting, then? “Exactly what is it that you are asking of me, Lady Daphne?”
Daphne drew in a fortifying breath and squared her shoulders. Now was not the time for cowardice. “I want you to make love to me.”
Bloody hell, she’d actually said it and without mincing words. Nevertheless, he could hardly believe his ears. Even so, while he had absolutely no intention of complying with her bold request, a part of him couldn’t help but admire her spirit.
“Not here of course. Not now,” Daphne clarified, a sudden blush warming her cheeks as she glanced about the otherwise empty room.
Ah, now she blushes, Brendon noted wryly. “Lady Daphne, despite my…er…reputation, I can assure you that I am not now nor have I ever been in the habit of seducing innocents,” he explained in a gentle tone.
“But you wouldn’t be. Seducing me, that is,” Daphne avowed. “Quite the opposite in fact.”
Brendon shook his head. “Daphne, you must know that I cannot in good conscience agree to your request,” he said softly.
Daphne dropped her hand from his sleeve, her spirits plummeting. “Is your conscience the only reason, or is it perhaps that you simply aren’t attracted to me?”
“No, of course that isn’t the reason,” he declared, perhaps a touch more emphatically than he’d intended.
“So you are attracted to me then?” she replied with renewed hope.
“Well…yes, of course,” Brendon admitted disconcertedly. “But that is hardly the issue. Flummoxed, he reached up, raking his fingers through his hair before continuing. “You are an incredibly beautiful and desirable young woman Daphne, but whether or not I am attracted to you is entirely beside the point.”
“But if it’s something we both want…”
He shook his head. “Daphne-”
“No one would ever have to know, I swear,” she was quick to assure him.
“I would know,” Brendon said softly.
Daphne’s face fell. “You would deny us both then, damning me to a life of misery,” she said quietly. “To endure not only a bleak, loveless marriage, but to live a life without ever having known what it is to experience passion, to have never known what it is to feel pleasure from a man’s touch?”
Christ, did she think that he wanted to deny her request, he thought in frustration. Didn’t she understand that he was trying to do the right thing, the honorable thing? Hell, he’d wanted her from the first moment he’d laid eyes upon her, but what she was asking of him was simply beyond the bounds, even for him. “Daphne, I’m sorry. I-”
“Please don’t,” she said suddenly, dropping her eyes to the floor, flooded with shame. “You needn’t say anything else, for you are right, of course. I never should have asked such a thing of you. Please forgive me.”
Reaching out, Brendon grasped her chin, gently lifting her head until their eyes met. “I am sorry Daphne.” And he truly was, more so than she could possibly know.
Gazing into the depths of his brilliant blue eyes, she could only nod.
“All is not lost, you know,” he said, lest she despair. “You don’t have to live a life of misery. You’re so young, Daphne; you have a whole lifetime ahead of you. Besides, if the man is as you said, old enough to be your grandfather, then surely you will still have the opportunity to find the love you seek, perhaps not now, not at this very moment, but later in life,” he continued. “Furthermore, and though it generally isn’t discussed aloud, it is hardly unheard of for married women, especially those who find themselves in circumstances such as yours, to seek their pleasures outside of the marriage bed once the union has been consummated and a suitable length of time has passed.”
“Yes, I suppose the latter is true for some,” she said, forcing the words from her throat when all she wanted to do was to run away and hide, “but not for me. I shall not break my vows once I am wed,” she finished quietly. Besides, even if she were willing to commit adultery, she knew that Blackburn wasn’t the type of man who would ever allow such a foul deed to go unpunished.
“Daphne-”
“Uh hmm,” a quiet cough sounded from the opposite end of the narrow room, causing Brendon to abruptly drop his hand and both of them to turn toward where Nicholas stood at the other end of the corridor.
“Excuse me for interrupting, but Ashleigh sent me to see how the tour was coming along,” he said congenially as he walked toward them.
Daphne stepped back from Brendon, forcing a smile to her face.
“Lady Daphne and I have just finished,” Brendon said to his brother, having no doubt that Ashleigh had sent Nicholas with the sole purpose of checking up on them. For despite her efforts to see that he and Daphne continued to further their acquaintance, she certainly wouldn’t wish to have the young lady’s reputation tarnished in the process. And unfortunately, spending too much time alone with a man of his reputation could certainly accomplish that, even in such an innocuous setting. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but regret his brother’s inopportune timing.
“The collection was even more spectacular than I could have imagined, Your Grace,” Daphne said to the duke. “I’m honored to have been permitted to view it.”
“I’m glad that you enjoyed it,” Nicholas replied with a gracious smile. “If you’re finished, shall we return to the parlor?” he asked, offering his arm.
“Yes, of course.” Stepping forward, Daphne took the duke’s arm, leaving Brendon to follow a few steps behind.
Fortunately for Daphne, desperate to flee the scene of her humiliation, the hour was growing late as she, Brendon and the duke returned to join the other guests in the drawing room. And thankfully, with the evening’s event drawing to a close, she and Thomas were able to take their leave just a short time later.
As they entered their waiting coach and settled onto the tufted seat cushions, Daphne longed to do nothing more than to succumb to her feelings of shame and dejection, but with Thomas seated directly across from her, she could hardly burst into tears without inviting a slew of questions from her brother. No, she would simply have to wait until she reached the privacy of her bedchamber before giving in to her misery.
Thomas on the other hand, seemed uncharacteristically cheerful as the door swung shut and the coach pulled slowly away from the curb. Considering his usual lack of good-humor, she could only assume that the past hours spent in the company of Lady Willowby was the cause of his present mood.
“Splendid evening, wouldn’t you say,” Thomas commented as the coach entered the roadway and the horses began to pick up speed.
“Yes, it was,” Daphne replied. At least the first part anyhow, she added silently. “The duke and duchess were delightful.”
Thomas nodded. “Not nearly as haughty and puffed-up as one would expect,” he proclaimed. “And the food,” he continued, patting his stomach contentedly. “Twas a feast fit for a king.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“I did indeed.” Thomas’ expression was almost jubilant. “And after tonight, why just think of all the doors that will be open to us,” he added with a self-satisfied grin.
Daphne merely nodded, though Thomas was likely correct on that account. With the Duke and Duchess of Sethe showing them favor, their upward movement within the ranks of the ton was practically assured. Not that she particularly cared, as blatant social climbing had never been one of her aspirations in life. Blackburn, however, would undoubtedly be thrilled, she thought miserably.
It wasn’t until she was home and finally able to slip beneath the covers of her bed that Daphne, now concealed within the shadowy darkness of her bedchamber, allowed the tears she’d been holding back for more than an hour to fall unheeded down her cheeks, finally surrendering to her sense of utter desolation.
Dear God, she wondered as she sniffled into her pillow, how would she ever be able to look Lord Leighton in the eye again after what she’d done, practically begging him to make love to her, proffering herself like a common trollop. Oh, the utter shame of it. What on earth had possessed her to behave so outrageously, or to think that he would have considered such an outlandish request for even an instant? For despite his reputation, Brendon was clearly not without honor or principal, and foolishly she had asked him to compromise both. And all because she couldn’t stop chasing her silly, girlish fantasies like the veriest of fools.
Giving way to her misery, she turned her head, burying her face in the pillow to muffle her ragged sobs.
Later that night, having long-since returned to his opulent Berkeley Square townhouse, Brendon sat in the darkened library sprawled within the confines of a large wingback chair, his mind focused upon Daphne Hewitt’s shocking proposal as it had been for the past several hours. Although he’d been the target of many an amorous pursuit since the age of fourteen, he’d never been propositioned in a manner quite like that before and likely never would again. Needless to say, his head was still spinning.
What unsettled him the most however, wasn’t the proposition itself, but instead, just how tempted he’d been to take the bold beauty up on her tantalizing offer. For a man unaccustomed to self-denial, especially when it came to women, turning down Daphne’s proposal had been far more difficult than he’d let on. Even now a battle warred fiercely within him, for while he knew that he had made the right decision, a tiny little voice within his head cursed him for being an absolute fool.
In addition, he couldn’t help but sympathize with her plight, damming Thomas Hewitt yet again for putting his sister in such a lamentable position. For Daphne, so young and idealistic, condemned to spend the coming years in a loveless marriage with an old man, a man she despised, it had to seem like the absolute worst of fortunes.
As such, he could hardly blame her for seeking a small measure of happiness before surrendering to her fate. Hell, if he were in her shoes, he might well have done the same.
Perhaps…
“No, damn it!” he muttered aloud, stopping the wayward thought in its tracks. With a groan of frustration, he pushed himself up from the chair and rose to his feet. Perhaps a good night’s sleep would help to clear his mind, he considered as he walked to the door and exited the study. It was worth a try at least.
Unfortunately however, his intentions were for naught, for once he’d taken to his bed and allowed sleep to claim him he promptly lost what little control he’d had over his treacherous thoughts. Almost from the moment his eyes had drifted shut, the seductive, flaxen-haired vixen had invaded his dreams, setting his blood afire and arousing a powerful, yet woefully unquenchable desire that burned within him long throughout the night.
Waking early the next morning Brendon felt anything but rested, for his dreams of Daphne Hewitt had kept him tossing and turning for much of the night. Even so, he quickly cast the covers aside and rose determinedly from his bed. Then striding to the window he drew back the heavy velvet curtains and looked outside. The weather was clear he noted, not a rain cloud in the sky. He stood there for a moment, silently contemplating the rationality of his next move as he gazed outside. Knowing that is was in all likelihood a bad idea to seek out the alluring lass, he felt inexplicably compelled to do so. He told himself that he merely wanted to speak with her, to set things to rights between them, for he hated the way their conversation had ended. But was that the only reason, a part of him couldn’t help asking?
Damn! He hated himself for even considering that there might be another. With a sigh of frustration, he finally stepped back from the window. Considering how Daphne affected him it was probably a mistake to see her again, even if his intentions were honorable. But still…
When Only a Rake Will Do Page 7