Edward glared back but said nothing, no doubt aware that the whole table was watching them. At length, he smiled tightly. “It’s nothing, Miss Hayward. Please don’t trouble yourself. My valet will see to the stain.”
Several servants set the table back to rights, and James chimed in as a good host and offered his assistance to Edward, who quickly removed himself to the house to change.
Swallowing back tears, Daphne spent the remainder of the meal hunched over her plate, praying for the moment she could return to her room and weep. This dreadful incident had surely ruined any hope of her happiness. The vision of his face twisted in horror would haunt her for days, weeks, years to come.
When the meal ended, she made haste to the house. She was nearly halfway there when she heard footsteps from behind, coming quickly upon her. She walked faster.
“Slow down, Daphne,” Ashton said from behind, closing in with every step. “It was an accident. Pray do not distress yourself.”
She stopped and turned to him, tears falling freely now. “Don’t distress myself? For two seasons I have thrown myself at that man, hoping, praying one day he would make me his wife. And now…” Her voice trailed off and she looked Ashton straight in the eyes. “He thinks I’m an idiot.”
Ashton shook his head. “He’s a cur, Daphne. He isn’t worth your time. You deserve far better than the likes of him, trust me.”
Daphne blinked up at him, warmth spreading through her at his words. “Thank you for defending me,” she said. “That was kind of you.”
He reached out and cupped her chin in his palm, gently stroking the tears away with the pad of his thumb. She should pull away, but his presence was a comfort she couldn’t deny herself. “He had no right to speak to you that way.”
She swallowed, and glanced away from his penetrating gaze. “Perhaps he didn’t mean it,” she said simply. “I won’t fault him for one mistake. How can I ask his forgiveness if I myself cannot forgive?”
He was human, after all, just as she was.
Ashton’s hand was still warm on her cheek. “Perhaps he’s revealed a glimpse of his true colors.”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “He loves me.”
Ashton slid his hand around to cradle her head, and pulled her close, pressing his large body against hers. He lowered his head, his lips dangerously close to hers. “Love does not lash out in anger. Love does not belittle or humiliate. Love is kind, compassionate, and all-consuming.”
She blinked at his seemingly heartfelt words. “How do you claim to know so much about love?”
“I’ve seen it with my own eyes. My parents loved each other deeply.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “It’s not often a love like that sparks to life. When it does, one must cherish it.”
What was he saying, precisely?
“Ashton.” She pulled against him. “Someone will to catch us this way.”
Several neatly trimmed hedges concealed them from the rest of the park, but with so many people in residence, someone was bound to stroll by and catch them in this rather compromising position.
“I’ll release you under one condition.” The vibration of his voice rumbled through her limbs. “Promise me you’ll cease this nonsense with Wallingford. He doesn’t deserve you.”
“And I suppose you do?”
“Well.” His gaze traveled to her mouth, then lower still. “I will dedicate myself to your happiness, to your pleasure…”
Images immediately flooded her mind—his broad, muscled chest, the hairs that dusted the ropes of muscle lining his stomach…She shook her head and pushed the images away.
“I love Edward.” Her voice faltered.
His head dipped lower, intimately close, as though preparing to disarm her with a long, dizzying kiss. “Are you sure about that?”
She swallowed. “Quite sure.”
There was flicker of something in his eyes, steely determination, before he smiled and winked. “We shall see. Good afternoon, Daphne.”
Chapter Five
Any luck?” James took the empty chair next to Ashton by the fire.
Ashton leaned back in his chair, watching the rest of the gentlemen engage in a lively game of whist.
“That depends on what you consider luck,” Ashton said. “I’ve discovered her, if that’s what you’re asking. She came to me again last night.”
“Oh, did she indeed?” said James, amused.
Ashton settled deeper into his chair, eyeing Wallingford from across the room. He was sitting at the table, facing Ashton, his mind entirely occupied on the game, which allowed for some unseen observation on Ashton’s part. He didn’t find much to take offense with, unfortunately, except for the simple fact that somehow, that foppish man had secured Daphne’s affections.