“How heartless you are, Anthony!” Viola rebuked. “Five years will serve to eliminate her chances in the marriage mart altogether. Besides, she wishes to go, and you cannot blame her for wanting to establish her connection to her grandfather. I told her if she was determined to this course, of course I would assist her, but she needed to speak with you first.”
He shot her a shrewd, knowing look. “You encouraged her to resign.”
“I did not refuse to help her, if that is what you mean. Daphne must be allowed to claim her birthright.”
“That is not what I meant. You talked to her about how exciting London is, how amusing the balls and parties are, offered to help her find a husband and all that rot. God only knows what silly ideas you have put into her head.”
“There is nothing silly about a young lady wishing for company and society and wanting to find a husband. She is very lonely here, you know.”
“That is hardly the point,” he answered. “You know how important this museum and excavation are. You know I have obligations to complete this project. I cannot believe you would do this, Viola.”
She spread her hands wide and donned an air of bewilderment. “Anthony, you seem quite put out. I fail to understand why you should care one way or the other. All you need do is replace her.”
“Miss Wade is not replaceable. She is vital to the success of this project, and she is not going anywhere for at least the next seven months. Five years, if I have my way.”
Viola began to laugh. “My dear brother, you cannot make her stay against her will. Slavery is against the law, you know.”
He was clearly not amused. “When I hired her, she took on an obligation to me through the completion of this project. She intends to break her promise to me, yet she had the impudence to call me inconsiderate.”
“She did?” Viola was astonished. Anthony’s position was so high that most people, including herself, would not dare speak to him in such a way. “I can scarce believe it.”
“Believe it, for that is what she said. I do not say please and thank you, she said. I am inconsiderate, arrogant, and—what was it?—selfish. Yes, that was it. She said she was resigning because she did not want to work for me any longer.”
He sounded outraged—baffled, too, without any comprehension of Daphne’s point of view. Viola was a bit confused herself. What on earth could have prompted Daphne to speak in such a fashion? She seemed such a serene, steady sort of person. “Anthony, when she told you she was resigning, what did you do? Bully her, I suppose.”
“Indeed, I did not. I simply reminded her of her duty to me and my obligation to the Society. She flew into an inexplicable temper, and leveled all manner of insults at my head. Who is she to speak so?”
Though still puzzled by what had prompted Daphne’s sudden desire to leave Hampshire, Viola could read between the lines where her brother was concerned, and she no longer needed to wonder what had sparked Daphne’s temper on having her resignation refused. He had probably gone on and on about what mattered to him, without a thought for what mattered to her.
Viola almost wanted to laugh. She had a great deal of affection for Anthony, but he did have his faults, which Daphne had clearly not hesitated to point out to him. Despite the other woman’s quiet reserve, Viola was developing a high degree of respect for her. Reserved, perhaps, but quite able to speak her mind, and stand up to Anthony.
“What was the girl thinking?” he demanded, turning away to pace back and forth in front of his sister. “Does she not understand her place? God, does she not know what I could do to her for this?”
Viola studied him as he moved back and forth in such high dungeon, and she realized she had never seen him quite like this before. Undoubtedly, he had never heard such criticism in his life, and was so outraged by it that his usual coolness and self-possession had deserted him. Daphne had truly gotten under his skin, probably because everything she had said was true, and deep down, he knew it.
“A duke saying please and thank you,” he went on. “How ridiculous is that?”
Viola was too preoccupied to reply. A thought suddenly occurred to her, a thought that seemed incredible at first, but which took hold with such force that she could not set it aside. Oh, how delightful if he could be persuaded to marry Daphne instead of Lady Sarah.
The more Viola thought about that idea, the better she liked it. If Daphne was indeed the granddaughter of a baron, her suitability would be disapproved only by a few high sticklers. Viola knew from that look she had caught on Daphne’s face the other day that she was a woman of passionate feeling, despite her outward demeanor. She was head over ears in love with Anthony already. She also seemed to know her own mind, and she had the temerity to stand up to a duke. That boded well for future happiness. Of course, his unfair impression of her had to be overcome, as well as her decision to leave and her new, unexpected animosity toward him, a feeling that puzzled Viola. Where had it come from?
“Oh, good lord!” she exclaimed as a realization suddenly struck her. “Of course. How could I have been so blind not to see at once?”
“That is what I want to know,” Anthony’s voice intruded, and made her realize she had spoken aloud. “I am quite put out with you, Viola, as well as with her. What were you thinking?”
Viola tore herself away from her dismayed realization long enough to reply, “I am sorry, Anthony, if you feel put out.”
Daphne must have overheard their conversation in the music room, their conversation about her. That explained everything. No wonder she wanted to leave with such haste. No wonder she wanted to go into society and find suitors to soothe her wounded pride. No wonder she dared to throw criticism back at Anthony. What woman would not retaliate for the comparison to a stick insect?
“You should have at least consulted me,” he tossed out at her as he continued to pace. “She had the gall to say she is leaving because she does not like me, Viola. Deuce take it, who is this chit to like me or not? Who does she think she is?”
“A woman who is not afraid to tell you what she thinks of you, obviously.” As much as she hoped her brother could be made to revise his assessment of Daphne, she wondered if it would matter in any case. Daphne had been in love with him, Viola was sure of it, which made her wounded pride all the harder to heal.
Bringing the pair together suddenly seemed a hopeless business, and Viola’s heart sank. Daphne was a warm and loving person, and she would make Anthony so much happier than Sarah ever could. “She is entitled to her opinion, Anthony.”
He shot her an angry glance as he paced. “You are partly responsible for the entire situation. I expect you to retract your offer to the girl at once.”
Viola folded her arms and gave her brother the stubborn look characteristic of their family tree. “I will do no such thing. If Daphne chooses to come to stay with me, I will not gainsay her.”
Anthony stopped pacing and faced her with all that ducal intimidation. “You intend to defy me?”
She stood her ground. “I intend to do what is right. Daphne deserves to find her relations and take her place in society. I have offered to help her in that task, and I have invited her to stay at Chiswick with me. I will introduce her into society, assist her to make appropriate acquaintances, and introduce her to eligible young men. I will not take back that invitation simply because you will be inconvenienced. If you do not want her to leave, I suggest you find a way to persuade her to stay. If you can.”
The moment she said those words, Viola felt a ray of hope return. Anthony had never been one to refuse a challenge. As she expected, her brother met her gaze and replied, “I can, and I will.”
“Might I suggest,” Viola added, smiling, “that in persuading her to stay, you make use of the charming aspects of your character? You might have better success in changing her mind if you remember that she is a woman with needs and feelings and dreams of her own. Though she might be an excellent antiquarian, Daphne is not a machine. If you got to know her, you mi
ght come to understand her, which would only serve to help your cause.”
He did not react to having his own description of Daphne thrown back at him, nor did he seem to appreciate her advice. Instead, he started for the door. “I will keep your counsel in mind.”
“Good. Then I think I will go on to Chiswick in the morning, so that I do not get involved in this any further.”
“Excellent.” He paused in the doorway to look at her over his shoulder. “I shall be down to London in a few months, and will pay a visit to Enderby to see you then. In the interim, if Hammond does anything—”
“I shall inform you at once.”
“Good.”
Viola watched her brother go, and she hoped her notion to bring Daphne and Anthony together would succeed. Matchmaking was a tricky business, but she thought this match at least had a chance. Granted, Daphne wasn’t beautiful like Lady Sarah, but she was attractive in her own way. She shared Anthony’s most important interests in life. She had the intelligence and good sense necessary to run the vast households of a duke with ease. She had passion and a warm, tender heart. Though he did not realize it now, Daphne was a woman who could make him happy. If it came about, theirs would be an excellent match.
She summoned Celeste to begin packing her things. She had done all she could to ensure Anthony’s future happiness, and she would have to content herself with that. Perhaps she would write a letter or two along the way to move the pair in the right direction, but love, if it was destined between these two, would have to happen on its own. She knew the best thing she could do for now was get out of the way.
In addition to helping Anthony find a loving wife, there was also the benefit of prevailing over Lady Sarah Monforth, one of the most worthless young women in England. The idea of that sweet triumph made Viola smile.
Daphne watched as a pair of workmen carried a large section of mosaic flooring through the doorway into the antika. She winced as the corner of it hit the door jamb, chipping off a tiny piece of the pavement. “Oh, please be careful.”
“Never say please to the workmen,” a low voice murmured in her ear. “If you do, they will not respect you.”
The sound of Anthony’s voice right behind her almost made her jump, and Daphne turned around. “I appreciate the advice, your grace,” she said, “but since I have been around workmen all my life, I believe I can manage to get a pair of them to move a mosaic pavement without assistance.”
She walked away, but she could still feel Anthony’s gaze on her back as she followed the men inside the antika. “Thank you,” she said as they laid the pavement on her largest worktable. “Now, I need—”
“Leave us,” Anthony interrupted from behind her.
The two men immediately moved to obey, ignoring Daphne’s sound of protest. She frowned at him as the workmen left the building. “I do not suppose it occurred to you to inquire if I had any further need of their help before you dismissed them?”
“No,” he answered with characteristic bluntness. “I wanted to speak with you in private, so I sent them away.”
“Do you always get what you want?”
Daphne watched his dark brows lift in surprise at her impertinence, and she could not suppress a hint of satisfaction. Being indifferent to him was so easy, now that she didn’t care for him any more.
“Usually,” he answered. “Perhaps because I am arrogant, inconsiderate, and selfish. Or so I have been told.”
Having her own words quoted back to her was a bit disconcerting, but if he expected an apology, he was mistaken.
“All dukes are like that,” he went on. “It is the way we are raised, you see. It comes from a lifetime of being surrounded by people who wait to gratify every whim and obey every order without question. Do not expect any duke to behave otherwise.”
She bowed her head in deference to his superior knowledge of dukes. “With you as my example, your grace, I assure you I will not.”
He made a choked sound that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, and Daphne’s sense of satisfaction evaporated. She had wanted her words to sting.
“I see you have found your tongue at last, Miss Wade,” he commented, a wry note in his voice.
“I was unaware I had lost it,” she answered at once. “To my knowledge, it has remained in my mouth for the whole of my life.”
“A fact I am just now discovering,” he murmured, and took a step closer to her, but she refused to step back. She returned his study of her with a level, steady gaze of her own.
“Your eyes are not blue,” he said, sounding as if he had just discovered something unexpected. “They are lavender.”
Daphne’s heart slammed against her breastbone and all her newfound confidence deserted her. There was something in his eyes, something in his voice, that hurt, that made her remember the woman she had been yesterday, a woman blissfully unaware of how heartbreak felt.
She drew a deep, steadying breath. That woman was gone, and the woman who had taken her place was not going to feel any pain because of him. Not ever again. “Surely your grace did not seek me out to comment on the color of my eyes.” When he did not reply, she turned away. Over her shoulder, she added, “Whatever you wish to discuss, I hope you don’t mind if I work while we talk.”
Daphne took his silence for acceptance. She did not make any attempt to guess why he wanted to speak with her. It could be about her resignation, or something to do with the excavation. She really did not care. She just wanted him to go away.
She walked to the table where the mosaic the workmen had brought in lay waiting for her to begin repairs. She examined the pail of resinous cement she had mixed a short while earlier, stirring it with a wooden paddle to make certain it was the right consistency. Satisfied, she lifted the lid of the large wooden tile box that rested on the table to the right of the mosaic. All the loose floor tiles that had been sifted from the excavated ground of the villa where this mosaic had been found were sorted into the various sections of the boxes by color. Now she needed to begin selecting the ones she would use to fill in the missing places of the mosaic.
As she pulled out various half-inch cubes of blue and green marble and compared them to the oceanic background of the mosaic, she waited for Anthony to speak, but when he did not, she looked over at him to find he was still watching her. “You said you wanted to talk with me,” she prompted.
“Yes, of course.” He seemed to come out of his reverie and walked to her side. “My sister has left Tremore Hall for Chiswick.”
“Yes, I know,” Daphne answered as she selected two tiles of serpentine green and cobalt blue from the box. “She said good-bye to me a short while ago as her carriage was being brought round.” She could not resist adding, “I shall see her again in a month.”
“That is why I wanted to speak with you.” He paused, then said, “Miss Wade, despite the fact that you are a woman, I have come to have a high regard for your abilities as an antiquarian and a scholar.”
Daphne thought of all the hours she had worked to prove herself and gain his respect. And now, when it was too late, he was finally giving her a tiny scrap of that respect. Was she supposed to be impressed by such condescension? “Thank you, your grace. And despite the fact that you are a duke, you appear to have some actual knowledge of antiquities.”
This time, he did laugh, making no effort to smother his amusement. “Yes, you have a tongue, indeed, for now that you are leaving, you are not attempting to curb it for my sake.”
No reply was required of her, and she did not make one. Instead, she kept her attention on her work. She began comparing the tiles in her hand to the ones already set in the mortar by the gap she would fill in, choosing those she felt made the best match. As she worked, she tried to ignore the man standing beside her. She wished he would say whatever he had come to say and then leave. It seemed an eternity before he spoke.
“I would like you to stay.”
Her left hand tightened around the tiles in her palm, but only for a
moment. What he wanted did not matter to her any longer. “No.”
Hoping the matter was now resolved, Daphne bent down for a closer comparison of two tiles. “A bit too green, I think,” she murmured as she straightened and set the discarded cube aside. She reached toward the box, but before she could select a new tile, Anthony’s fingers curled over her wrist, stopping her.
“You cannot refuse to at least give me the opportunity to change your mind,” he said.
“It would be a waste of time. I am leaving.”
“What has prompted this sudden desire to go?” His thumb caressed her wrist, and Daphne felt her pulse quicken in response. Angry with herself, she pulled her wrist free of his grasp.
“My reasons are not your concern.”
“Viola told me about your grandfather. If you wish him to acknowledge you, I can be of assistance in that regard. If you stay long enough to finish my excavation, I would use my influence to bring him to heel.”
She would die before she would accept help from him. “I do not need any such assistance from you, your grace. I should like my grandfather to acknowledge me because it is the right thing for him to do, not because he was intimidated into it by a man of higher rank. Besides, I do not want to stay here. I have been working on excavation sites all my life, and I want a change of scene. I want to make new acquaintances.”
“And find a husband as well, I hear.”
Daphne stiffened at those words. She could not detect any hint of ridicule in his voice, but he must be laughing at the very idea that someone might want to marry her. “I see nothing wrong with that.”
“If marriage is your goal, Miss Wade, pray let me dissuade you from it. It is far better in life to remain unencumbered if possible.”
“Thank you for your cynical view on the subject, your grace, but it is not a view I share. I would like to believe that marriage is a partnership of mutual love, respect, and companionship, not an encumbrance. And as I have said, there are several reasons why I am resigning my post.”
“Then I won’t waste words trying to convince you to abandon any of them. All I wish is to convince you to delay them until my excavation is finished, or at least until the museum is opened.”
Guilty Series Page 6