“What?”
Chrysanthe groaned. “Don’t you see? People will think that she’s acting as a duchess might. A wife,” she added mournfully.
“Oh, but James—”
“Is angry?”
“Well, he wasn’t about the pictures, or the flowers. I think Daphne decided to redecorate his study, and you know how men can be about such things. But he didn’t change it back,” Annalise added hopefully.
Chrysanthe snorted. She could just imagine what Daphne had done. A dull, masculine room suddenly bright and cheerful.
Annalise was frowning. “If James is so upset about his fit, I don’t see why he doesn’t just apologize to her.”
Chrysanthe shook her head. “Are you blind, Anna?”
“What?”
“There is some truth to these rumors, you know.
Daphne has had an infatuation on your brother for years!”
Annalise blanched. “Never say its true!”
“Take the blinders off your eyes,” Chrysanthe muttered, disgusted. “Of course she has. She used to talk about him all the time, but it got to when she’d see him she would be all quiet and shy.”
“That’s just because James is so intimidating.”
“Only because she rarely stopped thinking about him, or because she refused to think about what she was thinking about him. Then did you see how she was at Ashford’s?”
“How was she?”
“She practically melted on the dance floor with him,” Chrysanthe hissed. “Then he took her out on the balcony, and they were gone for quite a while.”
“She was overheated,” Annalise sniffed.
“Yes, but when they returned, she was all but glowing. And your brother, well his eyes rarely leave her, do they? Even when he is talking to everyone else, or dancing with another woman, his eyes are on her at all times.”
“That is ridiculous,” Annalise scoffed.
“Then I suppose it is pure fiction how she lights up like a candle wick whenever he walks into a room,” Chrys sneered.
Annalise shifted uncomfortably. Admittedly, she had noticed how James seemed to simply stare at her whenever they were in the carriage together. Most of the time, Daphne merely stared out the window, but there were a few times she had watched them trying not to get caught watching each other.
Then there was that one morning… She had thought nothing of it at the time, but Daphne’s door had been wide open when she had risen from bed, but it was a good two hours later when Annalise caught her gawking at the painting supplies in her dressing gown, as though she had just gotten up. That was the same day Darcie had arrived.
That wretched maid was everywhere, Annalise thought unhappily. Oh, she knew the girl was good at her job, and she had always had a way with Daphne, but Annalise could barely get to speak to her friend without worrying about Darcie listening in. It was an annoyance, that.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Daphne has Darcie back,” she told Chrys sadly.
“What?” Chrysanthe sat up stiffly.
“James did it,” she told her.
“I do not think that was wise,” Chrysanthe said carefully.
Annalise nodded her agreement. “I think we will have to meet here or elsewhere in the future.”
“Obviously. Hasn’t it occurred to you that there had to be someone working in that house to help the killer?”
Annalise shifted uncomfortably. “But Darcie?”
“Is that little Irish colleen above taking a lover, or accepting a bribe?”
Annalise winced. She would not believe it of Villiers or anyone in their household. However, Darcie was an unknown factor.
“I am going to go back home,” Annalise said nervously.
Chrysanthe nodded, rising as well. “Wait, I have something for you.”
She hurried out and returned a moment later with a small, beaded bag. Inside was a small pistol and a box of bullets.
“I would rather you not have to use it,” Chrysanthe told her in a hushed tone. “If it comes down to it, shoot first and ask questions later.”
Annalise gawked at her friend.
“Take it,” she insisted. “And keep your eyes peeled. If anything, anything at all seems off balance—”
Annalise winced inwardly. “Yes,” she agreed mournfully.
It was a promise she hated to make.
Chapter Nine
The evening of the dinner arrived sooner than Daphne could have anticipated. She had expected to be overcome by nerves and worries, but surprisingly enough she felt cool and collected.
Another reason to be grateful to the Duke, she thought unhappily. Ever since their disastrous confrontation in his study, they had both retreated behind cool civility. There were no more curious questions aimed at him, or curious talks. She did not massage his shoulders and tuck him into bed, and neither did he rescue her from unwanted dance partners or take her for much-needed retreats on a cool balcony.
Daphne felt numb. Somewhere, beneath the surface, the ache was deep and unbearable. She knew that, but instead of embracing it, as she had in the case of her father, she did her best to ignore it. She tried to ignore that her first kiss had been taken by a man who lost his temper, and that the man had pushed her away, as though disgusted, and told her it should not have happened, that he was sorry it did in the first place. It was a pain that threatened to consume her.
She had more than enough to worry about at the moment.
“Can I help you with your jewels, m’lady?”
That, Daphne thought waspishly, was one of her worries.
Darcie was at her side, from the moment she awakened until the moment she put her head down. There was no relief from her constant presence, and it was driving her to distraction. Daphne knew she was just being overprotective because of what had happened on her birthday, but enough was enough.
“No, but I thank you, Darcie,” she murmured as she slid the glittering diamonds on her ears.
Although Daphne was not vain by nature, she knew that she was well coifed for the evening. She had chosen to wear a ball gown of pale pink. It had a daringly low bodice that revealed much more of her bosom than she was comfortable with. It had glittery crystals sewn throughout the frothy material so that it would catch the light. She had chosen to wear her mother’s diamonds with it, a delicate necklace that hugged her throat in a pattern of springtime flowers and matching earrings that drooped from her ears in a shocking shine of icy glitter. A rope of diamonds had been wrapped around her waterfall of curls.
If she had been a vindictive woman, she would have hoped that the Duke would look at her and feel remorse for what he had pushed away. Of course, Daphne was not at all vindictive, and did not waste her precious time thinking about such a foolish, weak man.
She was such a liar.
She picked up a sealed piece of parchment and smiled at Darcie.
“I am thankful for all you do for me,” she told the young girl kindly. “I do not mean to snap at you. I am merely nervous,” she lied placatingly.
“M’lady, do you wish me to take that to someone?”
Darcie said, nodding towards the parchment.
“This is just a list I made for Annalise,” Daphne told her. “I need to speak with her in any case, Darcie, before dinner.”
“Oh, but let me—”
“Darcie, why don’t you rest for a bit. You must be exhausted from taking such fine care of me.” It was an order.
She knew when she was cowed. Darcie bowed her head submissively. “Yes, my lady.”
Nodding, contented that she had taken care of the matter, Daphne walked out and to Annalise’s room, where she knocked subtly. Her lady’s maid answered, looking worried.
Annalise was glad to see her. “Well, what do you think?”
&
nbsp; Daphne smiled a true smile, overjoyed. “Oh, Anna, I knew it would look splendid on you!”
Annalise was wearing the topaz Daphne had asked the dressmaker to use for her. It was, as most of Anna’s best gowns were, simply made, outlining her slim curves and stately form. Her hair was curled so that it trailed down her back.
She turned to Anna’s maid and smiled. “Go to Darcie and ask her to fetch my mother’s topaz.”
“Oh, Daph,” Annalise gasped.
“It will go perfectly with the gown,” Daphne promised.
She walked to Annalise, motioning her to sit before her vanity and subtly placed the parchment there, whispering, “Not yet.”
As soon as the maid had fetched the requested jewels, she was dismissed. Just to be careful, Daphne bolted the door behind her.
“I’m going to play dress up with you, Anna,” she teased.
Annalise broke the seal, curious.
“Read it, but don’t talk about it,” Daphne whispered.
While she read, Daphne played with her hair, pulling her curling hair up and back and securing it with gilded combs imbedded with enormous, glittering topaz. Next she clasped a necklace of the stones around her neck, and then the matching earrings. There was also a ring and bracelet, but Daphne would wait until the parchment was read before interrupting.
She stalked to the hearth, where kindling was laid but not lit. Annalise did not question her when she lit the fire, poking at it until it blazed.
When she walked back, Annalise was staring at her, lips pursed and pale-faced. Wordlessly, she handed the paper to Daphne.
“If I cannot speak to Chrys, please relay what was in that letter to her,” Daphne told her shortly.
Annalise slid bracelet and ring on herself. “Of course, Daphne.”
Daphne threw the paper into the fire and watched it fold into ash instantly. She kept the fire going until she was positive that not a single bit was left, and then quickly banked the fire.
Daphne, irritated at not being able to talk to Annalise about what had occurred to her when she had been painting, had written it all down in her bold script. Every detail and thought had been recorded, and then sealed and locked away until she could finally get a moment alone with her.
“I think perhaps we should attend tea with Lady Chrysanthe soon,” Annalise said calmly.
“Yes, I quite agree. Did I tell you Miss Stockholm will be in attendance?” Daphne turned the subject easily. “I think you will like her, Anna.”
“Oh? I hear she is not quite popular amongst our set,” Annalise murmured.
“Oh, but you will enjoy her, Anna. At least, I think you will. She has an avid interest in Egyptology and hopes one day to have the wherewithal to go to Egypt herself to excavate a tomb.”
Annalise sent her a look of disbelief. “She told you this?”
“No, of course not. She thinks I am one of those foolish, selfish girls who doesn’t like anyone who isn’t beautiful or rich. Like your brother,” she added nastily.
Annalise acted as though she had not heard the bite in her voice. “Oh, then there is purpose to your odd guest list? I hear everyone is talking about it, Daphne.”
“Oh, so much for being subtle then. Yes, there is a point, Annalise, the same point there has always been.”
Anna stood up, stretching out her muscles before heading towards the door. It was nearly time for the guests to arrive. “What point?”
“Why, only that people should be judged by who they are, not what they are.”
Annalise sighed. That was what she had feared, and once again Chrysanthe was right. She should not be surprised, of course. Daphne had always been a bit different. There were still so many things she did not understand.
As they headed downstairs, it occurred to Annalise that she hoped that nothing could embitter those deep convictions out of her friend. Daphne had been raised differently than she had. Perhaps it was because of that she had such deep convictions, or perhaps it was simply because her father had been a good, decent man and had taught her these things.
Annalise prayed she never lost that light. Beneath the icy demeanor and the cool beauty, Daphne still had a compassionate heart of the purest gold. The day that she lost that heart, it would be the end of her friend. If that ever happened, Annalise did not know what she would do.
“I am glad you finally realized she could be a threat,” Annalise whispered under her breath.
“Darcie? No, I do not think that is why,” Daphne countered.
“Be reasonable!”
“I am,” Daphne retorted placidly. “If you had seen how I fell apart…”
Annalise blanched, remembering her words. They had to hold her down, they had to drug her to keep her from digging up her father’s body. If she had watched Daphne descend into that much insanity, it would kill her.
“Darcie is the one who brought me back,” Daphne whispered loudly, as though reading her mind.
Annalise filed it away, vowing to tell that, and many more things besides, to her friend before the night was over.
The Lord and Lady Sinclair were the first to arrive, with Chrysanthe somewhat subdued behind them. Lord Sinclair took one look at Daphne and barked a brusque greeting and moved to greet the Duke and his sister with more warmth.
If Daphne was surprised by his greeting, she soon forgot it by the effusive warmth of Lady Sinclair. She was an older woman, but it was difficult to see it with her kindly face and thick mane of auburn hair piled serenely atop her head. She was still slim as a young beauty and if she had lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes, it spoke only of years of laughter, not of age.
“I am so glad you could make it, Lady Sinclair,” Daphne said, and meant it.
“It is good to see you, Daphne,” the older woman said, squeezing her hands. “We were so sorry to hear of your loss, so sorry. I remember your father with fondness. He once promised to show me his horses, you know.”
Daphne smiled as memories washed over her. “No, I did not know. I shall have to see that you have that tour someday, Lady Sinclair. I must admit I am more comfortable in the stable than in the ballroom.”
It was exactly the right thing to say. If there was any doubt whatsoever in Lady Sinclair’s mind that Daphne was guilty of indiscretions with her guardian, this comment wiped them away. She moved on to greet her host, not quite as warm with him as she normally would have been.
“We need to talk,” Chrysanthe told her as they clasped hands.
“Yes, we do. If I can’t get away, get with Anna,” Daphne whispered.
“You managed to talk to her?”
“Not quite. I found another way.”
Chrysanthe moved on, for The Stockholm family had just arrived. Miss Emily Stockholm was looking confused, as though she was not quite certain as to just why she was there. Her parents were glaring at Daphne.
For Daphne herself, she was soon feeling confused.
Almost everyone, aside from Chrysanthe and her mother, had greeted her warily and looked at her askance. She did not know what she had done to earn such rudeness, but it worried her nonetheless.
She made a point of not looking at the Duke as he suggested they all have a drink before dinner. She was glad he was taking over, because she suddenly felt too weak to do so. She also hoped that if she did choose to marry, the man would never, ever ask her to supervise events such as this. She did not like planning a dinner, much less a ball or some other outrageous event.
She was suddenly worried about the menu. Despite her earlier calm, she suddenly felt herself worrying over every little detail. Most often, meals were elaborate events served with thick sauces over every little thing. Daphne, who was unaccustomed to the rich foods, had planned an elaborate, although much more simple fare. What if they hated it? What if they thought
it was an insult?
Her fears were not allayed during the meal. While everyone did seem to genuinely enjoy the food itself, she found herself completely ignored. She tried to overcome her worry and shyness and join in the conversation, but most often people spoke over her, or outright pretended she had said nothing at all.
By the time dinner was over and the ladies retired to the parlor while the men had their port and cigars, Daphne was practically in tears. She found herself sitting on a settee alone.
It was shock, more than anything else, she felt when Miss Emily Stockholm sat down beside her.
“Why did you invite me?” the young woman asked bluntly.
Daphne peered at her. Gone was the rudeness she had first encountered. Emily Stockholm was looking at her with an intensity Daphne had only seen equaled in her guardian. She had brilliant green eyes that were a trifle too intense for comfort.
“I thought you would be an interesting conversationalist,” Daphne told her quietly.
“I am a dowdy, bucktoothed bookworm,” Emily Stockholm snapped.
“I think you could be pretty,” Daphne told her honestly. “Besides, looks aren’t what is important. I heard you have an interest in Egyptology. I must admit, I am no scholar,” Daphne added, laughing. “That would be Annalise. Still, I have to say that such a hobby would be fascinating, to say the least.”
There were several moments of quiet. Then, “You are more complex than they think, aren’t you?”
Daphne smiled. She decided she liked Emily Stockholm then and there. “We all are, whether we admit it or not.”
“You have been quite the talk since you sent out invitations, Miss Davernay. They are not saying nice things, either.”
“From what I have heard, gossip is rarely kind, Miss Stockholm. What do they say?”
She did not answer at once. “You have a queer guest list.”
Daphne nodded, pleased. “Why should I desire to fill this house with affluent guests. If I want intimidating titles, I will go pick a fight with my guardian.”
That brought a smile to her lips. “I suppose so. How do you know Lady Chrysanthe and Lady Annalise so well?”
A Kiss to Remember Page 10