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A Simple Case of Seduction

Page 16

by Adele Clee


  What had happened to the kind, considerate gentleman who’d held her in his arms, soothed her fears and banished her nightmares? Where was the passionate man who made her heart skip a beat?

  He was buried, hidden, lost beneath this austere shell. But why?

  As they followed the procession from the church, he kept his head bowed. Outside the sun shone. The birds sang a pretty tune. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. Nature chose to celebrate too, yet Daniel looked like Satan waiting for a perfect opportunity to spoil the party.

  While Anthony and Sarah rode in a barouche with the collapsible top down, the rest of the party, all except the elderly matrons, strolled back to Elton Park. As expected, Daniel insisted they walk at the back of the procession, a good ten feet behind the stragglers.

  “Are you going to tell me why you’ve suddenly developed this black mood?” Daphne placed her hand in the crook of his arm as they continued along the winding country lane. “It’s going to be a long day if you continue to sulk in the corner.”

  He shot her a sidelong glance. “Sulking is something people do to gain sympathy. Trust me, that’s the last thing I want from these people.”

  These people? Of course, he meant the aristocracy.

  “Why do you detest them so? Is it because of what happened to you at school?”

  “I find their morals lacking.” An ugly sneer formed on his lips. In that brief moment, he appeared as a stranger to her. “To them, money and status prevail over love and loyalty.”

  Could he not hear the hypocrisy in his words? His income came from the very people he despised. Then it struck her. Daniel played the peers like pawns in a game. He used and manipulated them for information, enjoyed playing master and having them at his mercy.

  “There are good and bad examples of people in every tier of society,” she said, still struggling to understand his motive. “To judge a group as a whole based on past experience is … well, it’s foolish and ignorant.”

  “I have my reasons.” The bitter words told tale of a secret. “It is difficult to focus on anything when we have work awaiting us at home.”

  Finally, an explanation she understood. “Last night sorrow filled our hearts. Finding Thomas’ watch opened old wounds. But we must move forward. We must find the person responsible and learn to put the past behind us.”

  “And conversing with these people will make a difference how?”

  Lord above. If it were possible to shake stubbornness from a man, she’d grab his lapels and not let go. But the complex nature of his character could not be unravelled through conflict. She had to break down the wall, speak to the passionate, sensual man inside.

  “Despite all your attempts to disguise the fact, you’re a gentleman, Daniel, not a cutthroat with a grudge. Integrity and logic form the basis of your actions in everything you do except for this.”

  “Like most people, I lack the capacity to be consistent.”

  The odd backward glances from the people walking in front told her now was not the time to pursue the matter. A different approach was necessary if she had any hope of dragging him out of his depressed mood.

  “Then let us pretend we are the only people here.” Daphne squeezed his arm, caressed the bulging muscle she longed to see in the flesh. “Let us use the opportunity to further our acquaintance.”

  Daniel glanced at her, his raised brow and half-smile roused optimism. “After what occurred between us yesterday, I’d say we are more than mere acquaintances.”

  The fluttering in her tummy returned at the thought of being intimate with him again. “Then perhaps I did not make myself clear. While here, there will be plenty of opportunity to indulge in a few private moments of pleasure, to pursue our obvious connection.”

  “A few?” This time his smile reached his eyes. “Madam, I shall be grateful for one.”

  “Then you understand that a lady must be mentally stimulated if a gentleman is to receive the reaction he desires.” That should give him something to contemplate. “Conversing with a grump hardly leads a lady to have amorous thoughts.”

  Daniel raised a brow. “Are you bribing me?”

  “Of course not. I catch criminals not imitate them. No, I am merely offering insight into the workings of a woman’s mind.” And if the idea of bedding her didn’t drag him from his melancholic mood, she didn’t know what would.

  “To succeed as an enquiry agent, one must be a master of manipulation.” From his playful tone, it was evident she’d achieved her goal. “And you, I believe, are the best.”

  “Does that mean you’ll smile and partake in mindless conversation about the weather?”

  “It means I shall make an effort simply because you’ve asked me to.”

  They turned through the impressive sandstone piers and wrought-iron gates — the main entrance to Elton Park — and followed the guests up to the house.

  “Lord above,” Daphne gasped as she surveyed the giant Doric columns that were almost as tall as the house itself. “Lord Harwood’s home is rather stately and majestic. The effort required to maintain such a grand place must be great indeed.”

  Thorpe scanned the rows of windows on the facade. “Running an estate of this size takes considerable work, time and money.”

  “Good heavens, Mr Thorpe. Did I catch a hint of admiration in your tone?” She enjoyed teasing him. “Are you saying that not all peers sit around idle?”

  “The viscount and his brother, Lucas Dempsey, are exceptions. I respect any man willing to fight for a cause.” His gaze softened. “I respect any man who dedicates himself to one woman. And if one thing is abundantly clear, both brothers are in love with their wives.”

  So, fidelity, honour and integrity were traits Daniel Thorpe valued. What more could a woman want from a man? What more could a woman want from a husband?

  Love!

  “Experience has taught me love is vital in marriage,” Daphne said. Without love to bind a couple together, everything fell apart. “Duty is important, but a partnership based on deep affection and shared passions is necessary if one wants to be truly happy.”

  Daniel’s gaze travelled over her face. “I could not agree more.”

  “Were your parents in love?” Daphne’s father grieved the loss of her mother every day for ten years. “Do you think it is better to love for a short time than never at all?”

  He ground to a halt and turned to face her. From his dull eyes and empty stare, she expected him to say no.

  “My parents were deeply in love. To them, nothing else mattered.” He put his hand to his throat as though the words pained him. The gravel crunched under his feet, and he shuffled awkwardly.

  “And what of my second question?” Her heart raced as their eyes locked.

  “In answer to that, I believe love is all there is.”

  Daphne stared at him. The man was baffling. Why make her an offer a few years ago? Why cite duty and responsibility as good reasons to marry if he wanted something more?

  She glanced over her shoulder and noted the guests entering the house. They were alone on the drive. At any moment someone would come to escort them inside. But she was desperate for an answer to a burning question.

  “If love is everything, why offer to marry me out of a sense of duty? Love played no part in your decision.”

  Daniel’s gaze dropped to his boots. Sucking in a deep breath, he glanced up. “Daphne, I offered marriage because I wanted to bed you. There, that’s the truth of it. I offered marriage because you fascinate me. Because I hoped our friendship would develop into something more.”

  He wanted to bed her? She had no idea he felt that way.

  “Then why did you not say so?” Would her answer have been different if he’d made a more passionate appeal? Probably not. Her heart had been too full of guilt, too full of grief. “Why did you not try to explain your position?”

  Daniel removed his hat and pushed his hand through his hair. “Because I thought you loved Thomas, that yo
u’d never love another. Foolishly, I thought you needed someone to take care of you. A life companion.”

  “You would have made that sacrifice?”

  He exhaled slowly, but before he could answer the butler hobbled over to greet them.

  “Good day, sir, I’m Chadwick, the butler.” The old man pushed his spectacles up to the bridge of his nose. “As it’s such a pleasant day, we’re to serve drinks on the terrace. If you’d care to follow me.”

  “Thank you, Chadwick.” Daniel inclined his head. His tone conveyed a hint of relief rather than frustration. “A drink would be most welcome.”

  It appeared Daniel’s fears were unfounded. The wedding was an informal affair, with the viscount the only peer in attendance. Thank the Lord he didn’t have to look at Pulborough’s pathetic face or listen to his jibes and taunts. One wrong word from the arrogant marquess and the celebration would have turned into a brawl.

  The wedding breakfast, too, was a casual event. Various breads, buttered rolls, meats and cheese covered the long table which sat twenty without the fear of one banging their neighbour’s elbow. The addition of chocolate and a wedding cake were the only things to mark the special occasion.

  Daniel sat next to Miss Hamilton, a friend of the bride who barely raised her gaze from her plate, let alone sought meaningful conversation. The opposite was true of the elderly matron to his left who raised her monocle more than a handful of times to study him.

  “What did you say your name was?” The white-haired lady frowned as her curious gaze scanned his face. Why could she not leave him alone? There were other guests to prod and poke. “My memory is not what it was.”

  “Mr Thorpe,” he replied respectfully before popping a piece of ham into his mouth. There wasn’t a person alive who could lay claim to a family connection when using that name.

  “Are you family?”

  “No, simply a friend of the happy couple.” It was a slight exaggeration but better than saying he was the person responsible for catching Lord Harwood’s blackmailer.

  “I could have sworn you were a relative. You look so familiar.” The lady’s shrill voice sent a shiver shooting through him. She muttered his name to herself and shook her head numerous times. “Have I seen you before? Who is your father?”

  “Bloody hell,” he whispered. He suddenly wished Pulborough was here. At least he could punch the pompous lord when he refused to be quiet.

  The matron cupped her hand to her ear. “Sorry, who did you say your father was?”

  “My father died before I was born.”

  The evasive reply was sure to rouse pity and distract from further prying. He glanced across at Daphne. From what he could hear of the conversation, she was educating the bride’s brother-in-law, Max Roxbury, in the telltale signs often displayed by liars. She looked so comfortable in the grand house. The country air had brought a glow to her cheeks. The lines often apparent between her brows had disappeared in the relaxed environment. Daphne deserved to live a peaceful life full of love and laughter. She did not deserve to be cooped up in a room above a shop, too scared to sleep at night.

  “Was it an accident?” The matron at his side continued to probe him. “For he must have been in his prime when he died. Tragedy often strikes the young.”

  Daniel swallowed down the lump in his throat and took a sip of wine. “He fell off his horse and broke his neck.”

  The matron gasped. “Monstrous beast of a thing, was it? Forever chomping at the bit?”

  Did the lady not know when to change the subject? “I believe the blame lies firmly with the arrogance of the rider.” It wasn’t true. But resentment was easier to live with than regret.

  “Your poor mother.” The lady tapped his arm. “So tragic to lose a husband at such a young age.”

  “Indeed.” His mother lost a lover, not a husband. And therein lay the problem that had plagued him his entire life.

  “And she died young too I fear. When one suffers loss, pain is always evident in the voice. It doesn’t matter how long…” The matron continued talking, but Daniel stopped listening.

  This was precisely the reason he’d refused to attend. Someone was bound to recognise him. Someone was bound to remember the scandal. One derogatory word about either of his parents and he was liable to bring the house tumbling down around them.

  It was much easier to stay away. In the back streets of London, no one bothered him. No one cared. He controlled events. They did not control him.

  Daniel stared at the pristine tablecloth, at the polished silver cutlery, the lavish gilt fruit bowl, at all the fancy trimmings that spoke of wealth and excellent breeding. The blood that flowed through his veins was as good as any of the men seated at the table. But not everyone saw it that way.

  “You don’t have to answer.” The elderly woman at his side placed her frail, wrinkled hand on his arm. “You’ll find your way out of the darkness. We all do eventually.”

  “In the darkness, we can be anyone we want to be,” he murmured.

  The lady smiled. “No matter how hard you try, you can never run away from yourself.”

  Daniel swallowed down the lump in his throat. How the hell had he ended up having this conversation? Thoughts of the past swamped him. He’d spent a lifetime running, and the past was yet to catch up with him. Thoughts of the future left him equally dazed. His feelings for Daphne robbed him of breath, made running that much harder.

  He turned to the matron. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m in need of air.”

  Before he had a chance to drag his napkin off his lap, Anthony stood and hit his crystal goblet with a knife. The high-pitched ching caught everyone’s attention. “As it’s a little early for port, gentlemen, and because I have no intention of letting my wife out of my sight, I suggest we all retire to the drawing room.”

  Relief coursed through Daniel’s veins. Moving to another room would give him an excuse to sneak outside. The grounds were vast. One could easily get lost. Even if he couldn’t persuade Daphne to accompany him, he’d go alone.

  “Move?” the matron grumbled. “Oh, can that boy not sit still for five minutes. I’ve hardly touched a morsel.” Had she not spent so much time talking it might have been a different matter. She grabbed Daniel’s arm. “Help me up. There’s a good fellow. Now where did I put my walking stick? The staff always offer to take it,” she said, gesturing to the liveried footmen standing as still as statues by the sideboard, “but I feel better knowing it’s at my side.”

  Though the urge to flee was still upon him, it would be rude not to offer the lady assistance. And he was a gentleman, even though he frequently denied the fact.

  “Your cane is propped against your chair.” Daniel stood and helped the elderly lady to her feet.

  “Now, give me your arm.” She held onto him. “And don’t hunch your shoulders. Stand up straight else they’ll think I’m not able to support myself.” Beneath hooded lids, she looked up. “Your father was a tall man I suspect. One rarely inherits their height from their mother.”

  “I believe so.”

  “You’re not a man of many words,” she said as they crossed the entrance hall and walked towards the drawing room. “One would almost think you had something to hide.”

  “Then perhaps I should leave you to sit with the ladies.” Daniel escorted her to the gilt-framed sofa in what was the most exquisitely furnished room he’d ever laid eyes on. “You have a way of extracting information from a most unwilling party.”

  The matron gave his arm a friendly squeeze and chuckled. “Curiosity helps keep the mind young.”

  “Then that explains why you’re more sprightly than the rest of us.”

  The lady used her stick as support as she eased herself down into the seat. “I like you, Mr Thorpe. I hope we have the opportunity to talk again.”

  “Should that be the case I ask you give me fair warning, and I shall be sure to wear my armour.”

  “Your father had a sense of humour too no doubt.”
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  All this talk of his father unsettled him. It was only a matter of time before the lady made the connection. A woman of her years would remember the scandal.

  Daniel inclined his head. “I shall leave you to ponder the possibility.”

  Moving away from the group of people assembling, Daniel found a quiet spot near the window, next to a statue of a Greek god who looked equally as bored. Daphne entered the room and noticed him standing alone. She was about to walk over and rescue him when Lady Harwood clutched her arm and dragged her to the sofa to meet her sister.

  Minutes passed.

  He knew he was scowling. Numerous times he considered pulling out his watch to check the time. Weren’t the guests supposed to leave after the wedding breakfast? Why the hell had the Harwoods insisted people stay the night?

  Memories of the past crept into his mind. Did the father he imagined bear any resemblance to the real man? A painting of his father hung in the gallery at Pulborough Hall, though now it had probably been relegated to the attic. Even so, he’d be damned before he’d set foot in that house.

  A weary sigh left his lips.

  How in blazes was he supposed to think about the case when the matron’s meddling had given him a thousand and one other things to think about?

  He glanced over at the white-haired lady as she stood and wandered over to the viscount. They stared at him. At one point she raised her cane and waved it in his direction. No sooner had she walked away than Lucas Dempsey joined his brother and they continued ogling.

  It crossed his mind to march over and demand to know what they found so interesting. Instead, he looked out of the window at the manicured lawns, which was why he failed to notice Lucas Dempsey approach.

  “Don’t tell me you also have an irrational fear of peacocks.” Lucas Dempsey grinned and slapped him on the upper arm where the skin was cut and bruised.

  “Peacocks?” Daniel said swallowing down the pain.

  “Have you not seen the wallpaper in your room? Blasted peacocks are everywhere. It’s enough to make a man want to sleep in the barn. Why else would you be standing here with a dour face?”

 

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