As the sun began its languorous ascent over the picturesque town of Peebles, casting its resplendent rays upon the quaint streets and somnolent houses, an air of anticipation hung palpably in the crisp morning breeze. There was an indefinable quality to the day, as if it held within its gentle embrace secrets waiting to unfurl, and for Daphne Roberts, this particular morning promised something extraordinary.
The arrival of the Rothschilds in Peebles marked the commencement of a series of events that would set the tranquil village abuzz with excitement. Word of their acquisition of the ancient manor atop the hill adjacent to the Ashfords spread like wildfire, traversing the village in a matter of hours. With Lily Ashford as a neighbor, renowned for her penchant for unraveling secrets, one could scarcely expect clandestine matters to remain concealed for long.
"Daphne! There is someone at the door for you," called out her mother, interrupting Daphne's arduous task of braiding her tresses. Despite her repeated attempts, the strands of her hair always seemed to elude her grasp, culminating in a semblance of order that fell far short of perfection. "Daphne Robert!"
Groaning inwardly at the use of her full name, Daphne hastily undid her braid, allowing her hair to cascade in unruly waves down her shoulders, hoping fervently that her mother would not catch sight of her disheveled appearance. Lavinnia Roberts had a penchant for upholding the strictest standards of propriety, often at the expense of her daughter's comfort.
Descending the stairs with alacrity, Daphne's heart fluttered with a sense of anticipation that had been building since dawn. Lily Ashford, her dearest friend, was expected, and the prospect of their long-awaited rendezvous filled her with a sense of elation. Their friendship, nurtured since infancy, was a steadfast bond forged amidst the idyllic surroundings of their shared village.
As Daphne swung open the imposing front door, she found herself face to face with a young man whose presence exuded an air of refinement and sophistication. "Good day," he greeted her softly, his gaze lingering upon her disheveled locks and the loose folds of her summer dress.
"Daphne!" exclaimed her mother, appearing at her side with an expression of barely concealed exasperation. "How dare you receive the Duke in such attire!"
"The what?" Daphne retorted, meeting her mother's disapproving gaze with a quizzical expression. The notion of a Duke in their midst seemed too preposterous to comprehend.
"Duke Apollo Rothschild of London," he interjected, his voice tinged with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. "Madame Roberts, you may address me as Apollo. And does your daughter require assistance? I could summon my personal physician to attend to her."
Despite her mother's protests, Daphne remained resolute in her refusal, ushering Apollo into the parlor for tea. The idea of a Duke in their humble abode was a notion that stretched the bounds of credulity, his opulent attire and ostentatious emerald cufflinks serving as stark reminders of the vast chasm that separated their worlds.
Left alone to ponder the events unfolding before her, Daphne found herself at a loss for words, her mind abuzz with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. It was only when her mother appeared with a tray laden with the finest china and silverware that Daphne was roused from her reverie.
"Whatever are you doing standing there? Go and dress yourself! Apollo is here for you, I remind you. You must make a favorable impression!" her mother admonished, her tone brooking no argument.
"And has Lily called upon us?" Daphne inquired, her indifference towards the wealthy scion waning in comparison to her eagerness to reunite with her closest confidante.
"Yes, she was here a few hours ago. She asked for you and mentioned that you should join her at the barn?" her mother replied.
"Thank you, Mother!" With a sense of urgency propelling her forward, Daphne hastily donned her shoes and coat before darting out of the house.
"Daphne! The Duke!" her mother called after her, almost dropping the tea service in her haste to follow.
As Daphne raced through the streets towards the Ashford residence, memories of their childhood escapades flooded her mind. The image of Lily's home, with its ivy-clad façade and the hidden barn nestled amidst a thicket of roses, conjured a sense of nostalgia that warmed her heart.
Upon her arrival, Daphne found Lily reclining upon a makeshift bed, a canvas resting upon her lap and smudges of paint adorning her fingertips. "In search of inspiration?" Daphne quipped, taking a seat on a nearby stool.
"Yes, my muse was fashionably late," Lily replied, her smile widening as she set aside her painting to engage in conversation.
"So, tell me the drama," Daphne prompted, her curiosity piqued by the mention of new arrivals in town.
"We have new arrivals in town... Wealthy, blond, they hail from London, I believe. They go by the name of..." Lily trailed off, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Rothschild?" Daphne ventured, her familiarity with Lily's penchant for gossip serving her well.
"Ah, I see Lavinia beat me to it," Lily remarked, her tone tinged with amusement.
"But your voice is far more melodious. Pray, continue," Daphne replied, a playful smile gracing her lips.
BINABASA MO ANG
The Wilted Flowers
RomanceIn Greek mythology, Daphne was a nymph pursued by Apollo, who was in love with her. To escape her pursuer, Daphne transformed herself into a laurel tree. But in this book you will descover Daphne's heart harboured a clandestine veracity, if there we...
