Prologue

The Duke and Duchess of Hastings had not spoken for three weeks which the entire staff found odd, especially since they had hardly kept their hands off each other during their first week as a married couple.

They could feel the tension in the air as each party picked at their food. The Duke of Hastings would give his wife a hurt, pained look every couple of seconds and the Duchess would pretend not to see. Then the Duchess would give the Duke a look filled with anger and betrayal that the Duke would stare blankly at.

"You Grace," one of the footmen said quietly as he faced the duchess. "Mary wanted me to inform you that she left Lady Whistledown's paper in your bedroom. She apologizes that it arrived so late. The carrier boy dropped it in a puddle, and it had to be left out to dry."

"Thank you for informing me. I will be reading it after dinner." Daphne replied. Since I won't be doing anything else, it had been three weeks since she and the duke had, had sexual intercourse and she doubted they would ever have sex again. The two of them had been avoiding each other and they only saw each other at dinner. Daphne would have had dinner in her room, but the Duke had put up such a fuss when she had suggested it. She had just given up and continued to have dinner with him. Though she wondered why since they didn't even speak.

"Why are you still reading Lady Whistledown?" Simon asked as he took a sip of his wine. "We are already married, and she only causes you anguish."

"I like to be kept informed," Daphne responded with a clipped tone. "Or are you going to be monitoring my reading as well, Your Grace?"

Simon's jaw clenched and it was clear he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself when it was clear they had a very active audience. "Very well, Your Grace. I was merely looking after your health. Women have delicate sensibilities. Most women anyway."

"I'm not the sensitive one, Your Grace," the words escaped her mouth before she could stop them. Simon glared at her and Daphne ignored him as she pushed back her uneaten plate of food. "I am going up for the night. Good evening Your Grace."

Simon nodded as he gave her a curt nod, no doubt he was glad to get rid of her.

Daphne went up the stairs to her lonely bedroom. After her lady's maid Mary had gotten her into her nightgown, she settled in to read Lady Whistledown's latest gossip and scandal. She had been expecting something regarding the Featheringtons or Marina, but it wasn't. It was about her and the duke.

. . .It seems there is trouble in paradise for the Duke and Duchess of Hastings mere weeks after their wedding. Has the honeymoon already gone sour for what were two of the more eligible and sought-after members of our beloved social circle? Perhaps our lovely Duchess might have been suited more for the title of Princess rather than the title of Duchess. My dearest Duchess of Hastings if you are ever looking to part way from your husband you might want to start looking at the tiny village of Porter, sixty miles away from London. As always, my dearest readers, I will keep my eyes peeled for-

Daphne crumbled the piece of paper and thew it into the fireplace. How did she know? How did she always know?

-End of Prologue-