A Kiss to Remember

by Rebecca Minto

  They had met, as they had agreed to do, at Perkins Tea Shop the day after the attack. Annalise was handling the attack surprisingly well, whereas Daphne was not.

  “She is blaming herself,” Annalise told Chrysanthe in a low voice.

  Chrys shook her head sadly. “No, it is survivor guilt, Anna. Most feel this way. Daph, you reacted well to the situation. If you had fallen to pieces, you would not be here today. You saved both of your lives, I dare say.”

  “If I had never come here, it would have never happened,” Daphne hissed wretchedly. “By coming here, I put you both in danger.”

  “How do we even know that this man was chasing you because of that? The streets are filled with scoundrels,” Chrysanthe replied evenly. “That is why there are so many jobs in our government houses. The chances are he merely wanted to rob you and use you, Daphne.”

  Annalise sent Chrysanthe an angry glare. “That is hardly comforting.”

  “More comforting than believing people are being sent to do her in,” Chrysanthe argued justly. “In any case, we said we were in this together. If they think to get to Daph, they will have to get through us first.”

  “Most certainly,” Annalise agreed cheerfully.

  “Now, Daph, we were going to meet to discuss just how to go about this investigation of yours.”

  “I believe we should hire a Runner,” Annalise interjected before Daphne could argue.

  Daphne sent her a devastated look. Annalise pushed a plate full of confections towards her.

  “A Bow Street Runner,” Chrysanthe murmured, pondering the idea. “You know, if we have someone we want followed, that would be a fine scheme, Annalise.”

  “Only if we want someone followed? Why not the entire thing?”

  Daphne finally joined in the conversation, ignoring the plate of food in front of her completely. “Because we would lose control over the investigation and because we could never wholly trust an outsider.”

  Chrysanthe nodded her head, beaming. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, Daph. See, I always knew you had it in you! You are becoming more like me every single day.”

  Annalise sighed. She did not have a head for intrigue, and everyone knew it. She had been ready to fall apart during the chase, although it had all seemed amusing afterwards. She feared that, when it came down to it, she would have little to offer her friends throughout the investigation.

  Chrysanthe leaned back and stirred the weak drink thoughtfully. “What we should first consider is the murder itself.”

  “He was shot through the head,” Annalise said at once, “with a single bullet. I would think a pistol of some sort. It also would suggest that he knew his attacker if he did not rise when they entered.”

  “Yes, very good, Anna, but the means of death is not nearly as important as the why,” Chrysanthe interjected impatiently.

  Daphne shook her head at their bickering. “Both are very important,” she decided. “Anna, that was good thinking. Papa was sitting at his desk, and it would seem they shot him from the front. He was a gentleman through and through and would have risen for most anyone, even me.”

  “Maybe he didn’t have time,” Chrysanthe muttered.

  “Maybe it was not someone he would have ordinarily risen for,” Annalise snapped.

  Daphne sighed. “Also, the reason is very important and, Chrys, I think you are right in that is what will lead us to our killer, not…not how it was done.”

  Chrysanthe nodded. “Most murders occur because of a reason. Usually it has to do with material reasons, but there also might be someone who held a grudge against him, or… Well, I don’t know. In the city it would be believable that a ruffian did him in for his wallet or some such foolishness, but in the remote countryside such things are rarely heard of.”

  “Who had a grudge against your father?” Annalise asked at once.

  Daphne paled. She had not realized this would be so difficult.

  “I cannot think of anyone who did not like Papa,” she admitted sadly.

  “Think harder,” Chrysanthe instructed.

  Daphne shook her head. “Papa did not have many outrageous vices, Chrys. He bred his horses and buried himself in his books and spent time with me, that is all,” she said quietly.

  “He was a man, Daph, of course he had vices,” Chrysanthe muttered.

  “Do listen to what I say,” Daphne chided. “I said outrageous vices. He did not gamble or drink excessively, all his business ventures were above the board. He did not spend time with women of a questionable nature.”

  “In other words, he was boring,” Chrysanthe decided.

  “A good man,” Annalise snapped warningly. “Well, perhaps we can look at his books, Daphne, and make certain there was nothing in that area. James can fetch them for us.”

  Chrys sighed with relief. “You can do that together. I have no patience for numbers.”

  “Or anything in a book,” Annalise interjected nastily.

  Chrysanthe ignored the barb. “What about servants, Daphne? Did your father release any of them, or find any stealing?”

  Daphne shook her head slowly. “Papa was always quite fair with the help,” she said slowly. “He treated them with respect and they, in turn, adored him. Why, the only man I recall being dismissed asked for Papa to pension him off.”

  “Why?” Annalise wondered.

  “Well…he was getting on in years, and his only daughter just had a baby. They were going to let him move in to help them out, and Papa gave him a very generous pension, I recall.”

  Chrysanthe wrinkled her nose. “He sounds like a goody-goody.”

  “Oh, hush,” Annalise murmured.

  Daphne frowned and sipped at her tea. Heard in this light, her father did seem too good to be true. Of course, they did not understand him, no one really could understand the good and wonderful man he was. He was devoted to his horses and to his daughter, and took joy in them. He also enjoyed his business dealings, and the fact that he made such a fortune before he died should attest to that fact.

  “Well, there is always greed.”

  “James said that Baron Davernay kept quiet at just how wealthy he was,” Annalise interjected.

  “Still, one has to presume he had some money in order to do all he did for Daphne.”

  Daphne frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “That you were spoiled,” Chrysanthe retorted meanly.

  “I most certainly was not!”

  “You were. Your father gave you a gift practically every day, Daph. Of course you were spoiled. More than that, he let you do whatever you wanted.”

  “Do you think I prefer these gifts over any single moment I shared with him?” Daphne demanded sharply. “I would give everything up just to be able to see him again.”

  “We know,” Annalise sighed. “Well, who else could have profited from his death, aside from you?”

  Daphne shook her head. “No one! Everything reverted to me—”

  “Except for the title,” Chrysanthe interrupted baldly.

  “Yes, but the title and lands are bereft of the funds to manage them. My uncle certainly does not have the blunt. That is probably why Papa did it,” she added thoughtfully.

  “What do you mean?” Annalise asked slowly.

  “Well, Uncle Jon did have a gambling problem, and Papa got tired of bailing him out only for him to fall into debt up to his ears again. Papa told him the last time he bailed him out that, unless he learned to fix his problem, he would never help him out again. Even my cousin…”

  “Even your cousin what?” Chrys demanded.

  Daphne shrugged. “Well, he wasn’t going to be able to finish up at Eton, but a distant aunt on his mother’s side gave him a small allowance. He can barely afford a small set of rooms in Lond
on, last I heard.”

  Chrysanthe’s blue eyes lit up with excitement. “Don’t you see, your uncle wouldn’t know that your father changed his will, Daphne! I bet he did it so he could get all the wealth he needed to. Why are you shaking your head?”

  “Uncle Jon has been bedridden for years,” Daphne told her sadly. “He no longer gambles, but Papa still refused to help him out. He cannot even go and inspect his inheritance. Of course, the barrister said when my uncle realizes what Papa has done, he will try to get guardianship over me so he can try to use my inheritance for his own ends. He said that is why Papa wanted someone else to be my guardian in case he died…”

  Annalise frowned thoughtfully. “It does sound like he expected something like this to happen.”

  Daphne shrugged. “Papa always told me he was prepared for any eventuality. I think sometimes he wanted to be reunited with Mama.”

  All three of them sighed unhappily at this thought. It was very sad that Baron Davernay had only had a short time with his wife before she was taken ill. They had loved one another very deeply.

  “Well, I will ask my uncle to make some inquiries where your uncle is concerned in any case, Daphne. It can’t hurt,” Chrysanthe added when Daphne looked as though she would object. “Don’t worry; he knows how to do his job. He will be quite discreet.”

  “We can start on your father’s books,” Annalise added gently. “And—” She broke off, looking worried. “Why, Chrys, you’ve gone all pale.”

  Chrysanthe shook her head and sat up straight in her seat. She wasn’t looking at either one of them now, but beyond them. It did not take long for Annalise and Daphne to realize why.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Chrysanthe,” an elderly matron said in a somewhat stiff tone of voice.

  Daphne turned to look up at the woman, plastering a weak smile on his face as she did so. She was a tall and stately woman with silvery hair and pale, pale skin. The gown she wore was expensive and fine, but it did not suit her at all. She was peering down at them as though they were all beneath her.

  “Lady Arnsworthy,” Chrysanthe greeted her weakly. “M-might I introduce you to my companions?”

  Lady Arnsworthy speared Daphne and Annalise with an insufferable glare. “Of course, Lady Chrysanthe.”

  “T-this is Lady Annalise, s-sister to Duke of Cheney, and Miss Davernay, his w-ward,” Chrysanthe stammered. “W-would you care to j-j-join us for tea?”

  “I have a previous arrangement, but thank you, Lady Chrysanthe. Perhaps I shall see you later. I was planning a visit with your mother, you know.”

  Chrysanthe bowed her head as a heated blush swept up across her pale cheeks. “Of course, Lady Arnsworthy.”

  Daphne watched as the woman walked passed. She had a small, somewhat stiff gait, which made her wonder if the woman had snug stays biting into her lungs.

  “Whoever was that, and why did she make you so nervous, Chrysanthe?” Annalise demanded as soon as the woman was out of earshot.

  Chrysanthe’s shoulders drooped. “That is Lady Arnsworthy,” she whispered. “One of mama’s important friends. I think Mama told her to keep an eye on me.”

  That comment turned Daphne’s attention. “Why?”

  “Well, Mama is afraid I am going to embarrass her,” Chrys admitted ruefully. “She says I spend too much time listening to my uncle and not enough time trying to be a woman. She threatened to… Well, I best not say here, but she threatened me if I embarrass her or cause a scandal.”

  Annalise pulled out her purse. “Well, I think we should get going,” she said as she counted out enough coin to pay for their tea. “We would not wish to be overheard.”

  They walked out of the small, cramped tearoom into a bright, if chilly, afternoon. Daphne’s head was whirling with all her contradicting thoughts.

  To their distress, the Duke of Cheney was waiting for them beside his carriage. Despite whatever else he said, it seemed he was not taking any chances with his wards. They unhappily said their good-byes to Chrysanthe and shuffled inside.

  “Poor Chrysanthe,” Annalise sighed once they were on their way.

  James sent her a curious look. “Has something happened to your friend?” he inquired politely.

  “Lady Sinclair does not appear to trust her at all,” Annalise told him quietly.

  Annalise did not see it, but Daphne did, for her eyes were glued to his handsome profile. A small sliver of amusement flashed across his face, quickly subdued and buried. It warmed her that he was capable of humor, however.

  “What a pity,” he said in a sarcastic voice.

  Daphne sighed and looked out the window. Yes, it was a pity. She only could hope that Lady Sinclair did not realize what the three of them were up to. She seriously doubted that the woman would approve.

  * * * *

  “What are we going to do?”

  Annalise blinked owlishly, her glasses magnifying her eyes to twice their normal size. The golden color seemed to cloud as she struggled to bring herself back to her surroundings.

  They were sitting amidst stacks of leather-bound journals and ledgers, assorted by years. There were also several boxes of personal correspondence. Annalise was struggling to see just what had annoyed Daphne so much to break the long silence.

  “Um, about what, Daph,” she wondered.

  “Oh, it is no use! I shan’t be able to get my mind to it anymore tonight,” Daphne snarled waspishly. She used a marker of hammered gold leaf to mark her place in a journal, carefully putting it to the side.

  Cautiously, Annalise mirrored her, marking her place and putting the book aside so that she could pick up from where she had left off later. She was beginning to think that it would be best if they worked separately. Daphne was not quite as bad as Chrysanthe, but she did have an annoying habit of breaking the silence with her own thoughts, from time to time, something which annoyed Annalise to no ends when she was absorbed in numbers and entries.

  “Annalise, surely you cannot be so dense,” Daphne said at last. “Tomorrow is our debut, and Chrys…” She trailed off as a look of worry crossed her delicate features.

  Annalise frowned. “Chrys what, Daphne?” She was truly perplexed.

  “How can Chrysanthe truly keep in line?” she wailed.

  Annalise laughed. She could not help it. Daphne looked as though the world were about to come to an end.

  “Oh, Daph, don’t worry about Chrys.”

  “Not worry? Not worry? Annalise, this is Chrysanthe we are talking about. She is going to start a scandal the instant she walks into a ballroom!”

  Annalise sighed. “Chrysanthe had the same upbringing we did, for the most part, Daphne. She knows how to comport herself in society.”

  Daphne sent her a look of baleful disbelief. “Are we talking about the same Chrysanthe?” she demanded starkly.

  Annalise smiled. “Good point, that,” she murmured fondly.

  The first time Daphne and Annalise had met Chrysanthe, she had been wearing boy’s trousers and was barefoot, boasting that she was going to kill a rabbit like the natives of the Americas her uncle had told her about. From there, they had gotten trouble, time and time again, often by following the guidance of their fiery-headed friend. It wasn’t so much that Chrysanthe did not know how to behave quite so much as she did not care. She openly mocked the rules of society.

  “Annalise, we cannot simply sit by while she upsets her mother so deeply that…that she will punish her!” Daphne insisted.

  “Daphne, perhaps it would do her some good,” Annalise argued earnestly. “Nay, do not shout at me,” she added quickly when she saw the anger on her friend’s face. “Most mothers would send their child into the country for the remainder of the Season, only to bring them back later in hopes that gossip died out. Perhaps some seclusion would help her remember the rules�
��”

  “Rules that Chrysanthe has always scorned?” Daphne suggested. “Come on, Annalise! We both know that Chrys would love nothing more than to spend months in the remote countryside. Her mother surely knows that she dislikes living in London, in any case. Whatever Lady Sinclair threatened her with was certainly enough to worry her,” Daphne argued.

  “Daphne, what can we do?” Annalise demanded. “I do not wish her to get into trouble, either, but there is little we can do about it.”

  Daphne began to pace, a true sign of her distress. “But surely there is something we could do to…to help!”

  “Come, Daphne, how could we? We were trained quite well by the school. Wealth, prestige and beauty is all that matters. Chrysanthe has all of that already. If she remembers the rules—”

  “Chrysanthe has always scorned the rules,” Daphne interrupted. “She always will, and we both know it.”

  Annalise stood up abruptly. There was no reasoning with her once she got something in her head, and she knew it. Daphne would worry the matter to death until she thought she figured something out. Anna was not quite as worried as Daphne was. Although Chrys was her friend, she often thought that she was well-deserving of a lesson. She could not continue to break rules and expect to come away unscathed. If Lady Sinclair had found something to keep her in line, Annalise thought it could only lead to good things.

  Daphne sent Annalise a look of disgust as she left. Anna did not seem to care a whit if Chrys got into trouble, and that was only all the more irritating. Chrys, in Daphne’s humble opinion, needed all the help she could get.

  Oh, she was quite pretty. Daphne had always envied her lovely fiery hair. She was, like Daphne, quite petite, but she had never had Daphne’s problem of gaining weight so easily. She was small and tiny and beautiful. It was also true that she came from a wealthy family that would give her a handsome dowry, and that her father’s title would surely ease her way into society.

  Daphne was scared to death about their upcoming debut. Their very first ball would be at Ashford’s annual bash, and she had always heard it was one of the most talked-about occasions in London each year. Not that she was looking forward to it. Daphne did not have Annalise’s cool calm and sense, or Chrysanthe’s beauty. She did not even have the titles attached to their names. She was a mere baron’s daughter, not remotely fascinating.