by Adele Clee
“During the time you’ve known me, have you ever seen me wear a different expression?”
Lucas cupped his chin and gazed at him with a look of thoughtful contemplation. “It was hard to tell what was going on beneath that beard. But while your lips are always drawn into a thin, ugly line, your eyes often forget to be angry. I noticed it just now when you were salivating over Mrs Chambers.”
Bloody hell. What was this? Poke the miserable man in the corner until he bears his soul?
“I was not salivating over Mrs Chambers.” He was drooling, but his personal affairs had nothing to do with Lucas Dempsey.
“There is no need to sound so defensive.” Lucas chuckled. “I’m on your side, Thorpe. Though you may find the thought abhorrent, we are similar in many ways. I too had to work to build my fortune. You’re not nearly as handsome, but we share the same disdain for society.”
The memory of Lucas charging at Mr Weston in a fit of rage drifted into his mind. “You used to despise everyone as I recall. Had it not been for Bostock’s timely intervention, you would have beaten Weston to a pulp.”
“The weasel almost ruined my life,” Lucas said, animosity still evident. “A good fight is the best medicine when resentment festers.”
“In that, we are agreed.” A fight was a way of releasing years of suppressed frustration and anger. “I find hypocrisy hard to stomach.”
“As do I.” Lucas nodded. “The same people who once refused to speak to me now invite me to dinner.”
“And do you go?” The answer would speak volumes as to the nature of Mr Dempsey’s character.
“Hell, no.” The corners of Lucas’ mouth turned down. “There are those who preach that forgiveness is good for the soul. That a man cannot love when there’s hate in his heart.”
“But you don’t agree.” This was quickly becoming an enlightening conversation.
Lucas held his hands out. “I am proof that the theory is nonsense. While my heart bursts with love, I cannot pretend that the past doesn’t matter. I cannot break bread with those who thrust a knife in my back.”
The Marquess of Pulborough, Daniel’s estranged cousin, had begged for clemency, begged for the return of his vowels, for a way out of the debt sucking him under. Daniel could forgive the taunts and jibes at school. The scars on his hand mattered not. But he could never forgive what the family had done to his mother.
“Do you ever feel the urge to seek revenge?” Daniel asked. The need for retribution was the one thing that made him strive for better things.
“Revenge?” Lucas scoffed. “Have you not heard that happiness is the best revenge?” He glanced over his shoulder at Mrs Dempsey. It took but a few seconds for her to look up and meet her husband’s gaze. “Damn. There’s not a day goes by when I don’t give thanks to fate.”
“And if someone hurt those you love?”
Lucas clenched his jaw. “Then I’d hound them to the gates of hell.”
“Then you’re right. We have more in common than I realised.”
Chapter 18
The matron, who insisted Daphne call her Lavinia, frowned. “I am telling you that boy is the son of the Marquess of Pulborough.”
Helena put her arm around her great-aunt and guided her into the seat. “While Mr Thorpe has the manners of a gentleman, he is not the son of a marquess.”
Daphne’s heart went out to the elderly matron. At the ripe old age of eighty, one was bound to get confused when their head was brimming with memories.
“Mr Thorpe is my colleague,” Daphne said, sitting in the seat opposite. “We work together in London.” Granted, Thorpe was a fictitious name used for business, but the idea that Daniel could claim such a connection was preposterous.
“Work?” Lavinia looked aghast. “That boy has no need to work. What about the estate Tobias bought the boy’s mother?”
The boy? After witnessing Daniel’s impressive form first hand, he was a man in every sense of the word.
Helena glanced at Daphne and raised a frustrated brow. “Aunt, we have no idea who Tobias is?”
Lavinia sighed. “Tobias is the boy’s father. They have the same brooding look, the same olive skin and dark hair. All the girls swooned when Tobias entered the room.”
Daphne glanced over her shoulder at Daniel Thorpe, relieved to find him in the company of Lucas Dempsey. The men had been talking for half an hour. Mr Dempsey’s charismatic charm obviously worked on gentlemen, too, as an uncharacteristic chuckle escaped from Daniel’s lips.
“I’m sure Mr Thorpe will be pleased to know you hold him in such high regard.” Helena patted the lady’s hand affectionately.
“Everyone loved Tobias,” Lavinia said with an air of melancholy. “Such a good man. Such a tragedy. And the boy lives in London, you say?”
Daphne nodded. “Yes, we rode up together yesterday.” While Daniel used numerous houses in the city, she had no idea which one he considered his permanent residence.
“And he’s not married?” Lavinia asked a lot of questions.
“No, he’s not married.” Daphne could not imagine Daniel with a wife and family. A jealous pang filled her chest at the thought. Like a vine, the feeling grew and twisted around her heart.
“Didn’t Sarah look beautiful in her new gown?” Helena said in a bid to change the subject.
Lavinia frowned. “Who’s Sarah?”
Helena breathed deeply, and whispered, “Anthony’s wife.”
“Oh, for the life of me I have no idea why but I thought her name was Susanna.” Lavinia shook her head and chuckled. “You shall have to keep reminding me, dear.”
Lucas’ hearty laugh captured their attention, and they turned to find Daniel laughing too. His dark eyes were alight with amusement. Lord, he was handsome when he wasn’t frowning.
“Finally,” Lavinia said. “I thought I’d never see that boy smile. If anyone can pull him from his black mood, it’s Lucas. I know I’m not supposed to have my favourites, but I do like a man with spirit. Tobias had spirit. Heavens, that man could raise the temperature in an ice house with one glance.”
“Lucas prefers the country air to the grime of the city,” Helena said, attempting to steer the conversation away from Lavinia’s fanciful musings. “Green fields and large gardens bring out the child in him.”
Lavinia nodded. “As it does to us all. A spell in the country will soothe any man’s soul.” She turned to Daphne. “Despite living in London, I assume the boy still owns the country estate?”
Daphne wasn’t sure how to answer without offending the matron. Perhaps pleading ignorance was the best policy.
“Mr Thorpe—”
“Of course, Rainham Hall is not nearly as vast as Pulborough Hall,” Lavinia continued. “But it has a certain charm that encapsulates the theme of love. The garden boasts lavish fountains and statues of nymphs and satyrs.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Helena said.
Rainham Hall?
Was that not the place Mr Bostock mentioned when Daniel had asked to go home?
Good Lord. Daniel Thorpe couldn’t possibly be related to a marquess. He despised the aristocracy.
“I’m confused,” Daphne said, intrigued to hear more. “If you believe Mr Thorpe is the son of the Marquess of Pulborough, then what reason can there be for him not inheriting? Why would he own Rainham Hall and not Pulborough, the family seat?”
Lavinia leant forward. “It’s the scandal, my dear. The boy confirmed his identity when he told me his father had died before he was born. The likeness is uncanny. It cannot be a coincidence.”
Daphne knew Daniel’s parents were dead and that a guardian had paid for his education. “Mr Thorpe has never mentioned anything about a scandal.”
“As with any gossip,” Helena began, “it is wise not to give the tale too much merit.”
“Oh, this isn’t gossip.” Lavinia’s eyes widened. It was evident the matron enjoyed talking about the past. “Most people my age remember the tragedy.”
&n
bsp; Tragedy? Daphne’s heart ached before she’d even heard the sad recount. “What happened?”
“Tobias was supposed to marry the daughter of the Earl of Holden, but he fell in love with Maria, the daughter of his father’s man of business.”
“Love considers not one’s fortune or position,” Helena said, appearing much more interested too. Her gaze drifted to her husband. “Love is blind to all prejudices.”
Lavinia nodded. “Of course, the union was forbidden by his father and Maria loved Tobias too dearly to see him lose everything. For months, she rejected his suit. But as the great poets say love finds a way.”
The matron waved to the maid who was passing with a tea trolley. Daphne and Helena sat patiently waiting to hear the rest of the story.
“Talking gives me a croaky voice if I don’t moisten the cords,” Lavinia continued. They waited another minute or so while she sipped the beverage.
“And so were Tobias and Maria able to be together?” Daphne asked, her impatience getting the better of her. She recalled Daniel’s comment that his parents loved each other dearly. Yet there was a sad end to this story. Was that why love was so important to him?
Lavinia placed her cup and saucer on the side table. “Tobias bought Maria and her father a small manor house. He visited them often. When he inherited, he offered marriage, and she accepted. Maria would have been happy to elope, but Tobias had a point to prove. So a lavish wedding was arranged.”
“I suspect those in society made derogatory remarks about the lady he chose to marry,” Helena said with a hint of bitterness.
“There were some who were happy to make an exception for a love match. Some whose black hearts sought to cause the couple nothing but pain.”
“And did they marry?” Helena said.
Daphne knew the answer. Thomas had told her Daniel was illegitimate. He’d just never mentioned he shared a bloodline with a marquess.
Lavinia put her hand to her chest. “Two days before the … the wedding, Tobias fell off his horse and broke his neck.” Her expression turned sour. “And that pathetic excuse for a brother inherited everything. He’s dead now, of course, and his wastrel son took the title.”
“So Maria was with child when Tobias died,” Helena clarified. She placed her hand on her slightly swollen stomach and rubbed gently. “How dreadfully sad.”
Lavinia gestured to Daniel. “And there stands the man who would have made a far better marquess.”
Daphne glanced at Daniel who was still engaged in an animated conversation with Lucas Dempsey. The story had to be true. Why else would he despise the aristocracy? Why else would he create a new persona, one who possessed power and strength, the ability to ruin men overnight?
Just when Daphne thought the story could not get any worse, Lavinia said, “Of course, the family denied Tobias was the child’s father. There was nothing they could do about the house he’d bestowed. They spread false rumours about Maria’s many lovers. Painted her as a harlot.”
“Society can be cruel.” Once more Helena’s eyes drifted to Mr Dempsey. “It does not take much to ruin a fragile reputation.”
“And what happened to Maria?” Based on Daniel’s often cold countenance, Daphne suspected things had not ended well.
“Maria spent years trying to prove the paternal connection. She never married. When a lady loves a man like Tobias, no other could ever compare. Maria died when the boy was young. I’m not sure what happened after that.”
Daphne had an idea what happened. The dark, brooding Daniel Thorpe was born. The boy had grown into a man, set to wreak havoc on the landed gentry and pompous peers. He took power from the privileged. He sought justice for those incapable of doing so for themselves. And so he used his disguise: no fixed place of abode, a false name, altered his physical appearance, all in the hope of doing what? Protecting his true identity, or running away from it?
If only Tobias had eloped with his love, married her before their child was born. Why were men so terribly foolish and stubborn?
With a wistful sigh, Lavinia stared at the floor, her mind lost in memories of the past. Daphne’s thoughts were drawn to the schoolboy who no doubt bore the brunt of his parents’ misfortune. Helena’s glum face only brightened when Mr Dempsey approached, took her hand and brought it to his lips.
“Aunt. Mrs Chambers.” He inclined his head, his captivating blue eyes settling on Daphne. “How do you find Elton Park, Mrs Chambers?”
“It is everything a grand house should be and more,” Daphne replied, grateful for the distraction. “Your great-grandfather built it, I hear.”
Mr Dempsey nodded. “While the house boasts many elegant features, the gardens give it a sense of grandeur. Thorpe is planning a walk outdoors this evening. There’s a picturesque spot by the lake that’s not to be missed.”
Daphne smiled. “I shall bear that in mind should the gentleman invite me to walk with him.”
“Oh, I am assured he will. With the garden being so vast, no doubt he has a full evening of entertainment in mind.” Mr Dempsey leant down and whispered, “I do hope you like peacocks?” Offering a confident grin, he turned to his aunt. “Heavens, this is a wedding, not a wake. Why do you all look so miserable?”
“We were talking about the old days,” Lavinia said. “Remembering that not everyone is as lucky in love as you and your brother.”
“Well, while you’ve been sharing sad stories, Thorpe has kept me highly entertained,” Mr Dempsey said in his usual rich drawl. “Had I known he possessed such a wicked sense of humour I’d have sought his company earlier.”
Daphne turned to catch another glimpse of the man who monopolised her thoughts, but the space was empty. Daniel Thorpe was nowhere to be seen. “Indeed, Mr Thorpe is full of surprises.”
Chapter 19
When Daphne finally dragged herself away from Lavinia, she went in search of Daniel. She had no idea what she would say to him. The man had always been a conundrum, so opaque, so complex. Now she could see that every action stemmed from a need to right the wrongs of the past.
But nothing could repair the damage done.
Surely a man of his intelligence knew that.
Daphne wandered out onto the terrace, descended the stone steps and followed the gravel path only to find the garden deserted. She returned to the house, searched the library and billiard room, but they were empty, too.
Walking back out into the hall, she stood at the foot of the grand staircase. Searching the bedchambers was the only other option. And she considered racing up the stairs before any of the guests noticed.
“Do you need any assistance, madam?” Chadwick appeared at her side, squinting through his poorly fitted spectacles.
“No, thank you, Chadwick.” Daphne had been so lost in thought she’d not heard the butler approach. “I was looking for Mr Thorpe.”
“Are you referring to the tall gentleman with dark hair you were walking with earlier?”
“Yes. Have you seen him?”
“I believe he went upstairs, madam. Shall I see if he is available?”
“No. Thank you, Chadwick. You’ve enough to do looking after the guests. After the long journey yesterday, Mr Thorpe is probably in need of rest.” Either that or the thirty minutes spent laughing with Mr Dempsey had taken its toll.
The butler inclined his head and ambled away down the hall. Daphne returned to the drawing room and made polite conversation with Prudence Roxbury, the bride’s sister. Numerous times she’d been forced to ask the lady to repeat her question. While Daphne’s body was in the drawing room, her mind was somewhere else entirely.
When Prudence went to the aid of her grandfather, who often confused people’s names and insisted Mr Dempsey was a gentleman called Captain Lawrence, Daphne found herself alone.
So much had happened since leaving London. They’d discovered Lord Gibson’s involvement in Thomas’ murder. Daphne now knew of Daniel’s past, his motivations. She knew his desire to avoid the aristocracy stemmed f
rom a fear of being recognised. Which was probably the reason he’d made himself scarce at the first opportunity.
Of course, the most life-changing moment had occurred in his carriage. Taking Daniel Thorpe as her lover had only made her want him all the more.
“Remind me to give Thorpe a good shaking for leaving a lady alone,” Mr Dempsey said disturbing her reverie. “Lord knows where he’s disappeared to.”
She should go to him. Had she known the story of his past, she would not have forced him to come.
Daphne leant closer to the handsome gentleman. “I need your help, Mr Dempsey. Thorpe has retired to his chamber, and I’ve no idea where that is.”
A sinful grin formed on Mr Dempsey’s mouth. “And you want to join him there? Is it not a little early in the day to be … cooped upstairs?”
The only way to deal with men who enjoyed teasing was to play them at their own game. “You do not strike me as a man who requires a blanket of darkness to enjoy life’s pleasures, sir. You’re the last person I’d think to call a prude.”
“Prude?” Mr Dempsey laughed. “You’re as amusing as your colleague, Mrs Chambers. Thank heavens you’re both here else I might die of boredom.”
“Does that mean you will help me?”
“I gave you a clue earlier. I’m surprised a woman with your skill for deduction missed the sign.” When she frowned, he said, “Peacocks. Thorpe is in the room plagued by the ugly creatures.” He turned, caught his wife's attention, and she came to stand at his side. “Mrs Chambers needs your help, Helena.”
Helena turned to Daphne and smiled. “Wonderful. Is it a question about a case?” she said with some excitement.
“Unfortunately not,” Mr Dempsey said. “I know how you enjoy a good mystery. But no, this requires the utmost discretion.”
Feeling somewhat impatient, Daphne whispered, “I need you to take me to Mr Thorpe’s room. Or at least tell me where it is.”
Helena smiled. “Of course. Who am I to stand in the way of two people in love?”