Page 57 of An Unwanted Bride for the Duke
Damien clenched his jaw.
This is becoming a problem. A profoundly serious problem.
Seraphine appeared equally affected, though she recovered first. She accepted her glass and thanked the servant.
They began walking slowly along the edge of the pond.
“Are you enjoying the house party?” he asked, taking a sip of punch as he glanced towards her.
Seraphine turned her face towards the pond, watching a pair of swans glide gracefully across the water. A gentle breeze stirred several loose curls near her temples, and she tucked one behind her ear before answering.
“I am. Your sister has created something rather wonderful.”
Damien followed her gaze towards the festivities spread across the lawn. He had spent most of his life avoiding gatherings precisely like this one, yet seeing Amberhall filled with happy guests brought an unexpected sense of satisfaction.
A hint of pride stirred within him. “She is a good host.”
As he spoke, Damien glanced across the lawn towards the center of the festivities, where Thalia stood surrounded by guests. She was laughing at something one of the gentlemen had said, entirely in her element. Watching her be social a gathering with such effortless ease always reminded him how different they were.
Seraphine followed his gaze before looking back at him with amused disbelief.
“An excellent one,” she corrected.
Damien let out a quiet breath and inclined his head in surrender, lifting his glass slightly as though conceding defeat in a negotiation. “That too.”
The corners of her mouth lifted immediately, satisfaction brightening her features.
“There. Was that so difficult?” she teased.
“Excruciating.”
A soft laugh escaped her, and Damien found himself smiling despite every intention not to. The sound lingered between them as they continued walking beside the pond, light and easy in a way that felt dangerously unfamiliar.
She laughed softly, shaking her head as though he was entirely impossible. The sound settled somewhere dangerously deep inside his chest.
For several moments they walked in comfortable silence. Damien found himself studying her profile when she was not looking. The sunlight illuminated the freckles scattered across her cheeks. He had never understood why women attempted to hide such things. On her, they suited her perfectly.
Far too perfectly.
“And you?” Seraphine asked suddenly.
Her voice drew him from his thoughts. She turned towards him as they walked, one hand lightly holding her glass of punch while the breeze toyed with a loose curl near her temple.
Damien blinked. “Me?”
She nodded, amusement already flickering in her eyes.
“You will not host such events at Wexford Manor?” she asked.
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it. The very notion was so absurd that he nearly choked on his drink. “No.”
The answer came so quickly that she laughed as well, the sound bright and warm beneath the summer sun.
“Not even once?”
“Certainly not.”
She tilted her head. “Why ever not?”
