Daphne closed her eyes a moment. I am going to be ill. Why would he do this? A true rake would not have found fault with Lord Tennyson’s actions in those long ago days and a true rake certainly wouldn’t have taken him to task for it eleven years after the fact. With her charge prattling on about the scandal of the Season, as it had been marked in papers, she opened her eyes. She took in the details so very telling about this family’s circumstances: the fraying brocaded curtains. The pulls in the fabric of the upholstery. The bright paint bearing the imprint of frames, from where portraits once hung. All testaments to Daniel and Alice’s need for funds.
If he had not already been disqualified from the terms laid forth by his uncle, Daphne still only served as an impediment between him and his eight thousand pounds. Once, she had been a naïve girl with an optimistic view of the world. She was a woman grown now and, as such, she accepted the truth—there could never be love with Daniel. He’d stated as much too many times now for her to even hope. Her heart twisted.
There had always been friendship, however. The scandal pages had detailed his violent beating of Lord Tennyson, proving once more Daniel’s loyalty and regard as a friend.
It was all she would ever have from him.
But in humiliating the marquess, as long as Daphne remained in London, she’d serve as a potential pawn for that dastard. She could not, nay would not, allow him to use her against the Winterbournes.
Coward that she was, she wished to go, without ever having a goodbye with Daniel’s sister who’d come to mean so much to her. Before her courage deserted her, she spoke quickly. “I must leave.”
Alice stopped speaking mid-sentence and tipped her head. “Would you like company?” she asked perplexedly, starting to rise.
Daphne stayed her. Having been an only child, there had been a dearth of friendship or companionship, particularly when Daniel had been away at school. How I am going to miss this family. She took a slow breath. “I must leave my post here,” she clarified.
Alice’s smile fell. “What?” she blurted. “You mustn’t do anything. Unless you wish to, but you did not allude to as much. Which leads me to believe you feel you have to.”
With her quick-wit, Lady Alice missed nothing.
Daphne curled her toes into the soles of her slippers. How to go about explaining to an innocent the circumstances of Daphne’s past? With the same impressive fortitude as her brother, Alice met Daphne’s gaze squarely, a demonstration of the girl’s strength and directness. Yes, Alice deserved some explanation. “I have to leave,” she repeated. “There is, was a situation that makes it impossible for me to remain.”
Pursing her lips, the other lady folded her arms. “Does this have anything to do with my brother nearly burning down White’s and beating Lord Tennyson to a pulp?”
She swallowed hard. “I…”
Alice collected her hand. “You needn’t answer that, unless you wish.” Which at this moment, with this woman, she did not. Daniel’s sister went on. “I do not know what transpired that resulted in the scandal my brother brought about at White’s, but I have no doubt that Lord Tennyson deserved that beating.” She jutted out her chin. “And I also know my brother and I would never have you leave.” She paused. “For any reason. Unless you wished it.”
The young lady spoke with the innocence only a girl was capable of. For the world’s ill regard for the Winterbourne family, they’d been grossly wrong in their opinions. There was no more loyal pair than Daniel and his sister. “Thank you, Alice,” she said softly. Outside of her parents, Daphne had existed with nothing more than either disinterest or pity from Society and, yet, in these two she’d found people who saw the woman and not the disability. “I, however, would not forgive myself if I remained.” And ruined Alice’s future. No, Daphne could not repay their kindness with selfishness.
“But—”
“If you’ll excuse me, Alice?” she asked, shoving to her feet. “I must meet with His Lordship.” Daphne made a slow exit and started down the hall. She kept her gaze trained forward, purpose driving her footsteps. This was for the best. Now, mayhap if she told herself that enough, she could almost believe it. She reached his office and raised her hand to knock, when voices inside carried out into the hall, faintly muffled.
“…I am not turning her out…” Her stomach reflexively knotted at Daniel’s furious declaration and she borrowed support from the cane. I should go. I have no place listening at keyholes. Yet after stealing a glance about the empty hall, Daphne took a step closer and, as if she were a girl again, pressed her ear to the panel.
“What will you do for income without my funds, Daniel?” Lord Claremont’s bold challenge was met with silence.
“I’ll sell off—”
“You are running out of items to sell,” his uncle interjected. “And if you manage to see a return on any investments, it would still require the leniency of your creditors.”
A tense quiet stretched out into the corridor and Daphne held her breath so long her chest ached. She didn’t want the reminder of Daniel’s circumstances, which were a product of his lifestyle, these past years. Ones that merited an heiress or cooperation with his uncle’s terms. She touched her forehead to the door; the wood was cool on her heated skin.
“You have no choice, Daniel.” There was a finality to that pronouncement issued by the viscount. “There have already been whispers and rumors that you are bedding your sister’s companion. If Tennyson’s involvement with the lady comes to light, it will only cement those whispers.”
Of course, Lord Tennyson would have revealed her past.
Her throat worked and where once there had been shame at her folly, now she held her shoulders with stiff rigidity. Her mistake was hers and she owned it, but it only defined her as much as she allowed it. And if she remained in Daniel’s employ, it would be all anyone saw in her.
“If I marry her…” The remaining words were lost to the door panel and his lowered voice. She captured her lower lip between her teeth. Despite his uncle’s and Society’s ill opinions, Daniel was more than the rake he presented. He’d still, with the threats made by his uncle, offer his name, anyway. She fell even more in love with him. All of her heart would forever belong to him.
“If you marry her, you’ll never see a pound,” his uncle said bluntly. There was the shuffle of footsteps from within the room and heart in her throat, she staggered back. “We are done here.”
The door opened, leaving her exposed in the hallway with embarrassment burning a path from her feet to the roots of her hair.
The viscount looked at her, shock registering in his eyes. A dull flush mottled his cheeks and he yanked hard at his cravat.
“Daph…Miss Smith,” Daniel swiftly corrected, coming forward.
“My lord,” she greeted succinctly, managing a curtsy for the viscount. “Forgive me,” she said to Daniel. “There was, is a matter of import, I’d speak with you on.”
“Lord Claremont was just leaving,” he said tightly, stepping aside so she might enter.
His cheeks ruddy, the viscount dipped a bow. “Of course.” He fixed Daniel with a final stare. “I would have you think on what I said to you, boy.”
As soon as the viscount had taken his leave, Daniel pushed the door shut, closeting them away. They faced one another with an uncharacteristic silence hanging awkward between them. He spoke quietly. “I am sorry you had to hear that,” he said curtly.
She shook her head. “It is fine.” She’d not hold him accountable for his uncle’s opinions. “He didn’t speak anything that was not true, Daniel.” Surely he knew that?
By the white lines that formed at the corners of his tense lips, he did. “He can go to hell,” he said tightly, stalking over to his sideboard. He swiped the bottle closest to his fingertips and poured himself a tumbler of whiskey. “I’m not sending you away because he ordered it.” When he turned back, a muscle pulsed violently near his jaw.
“What of your funds?” she countered, ta
king a step toward him.
That muscle worked all the more. “I will find a way.” I always do. Those words hung in the air, as real as if they’d been spoken.
She closed her eyes as a slow, painful laugh bubbled past her lips. Daphne buried the sound in her fingers. “Oh, Daniel,” she murmured, joining him at the sideboard. “How confident you’ve always been. You’ve been that way since you were a boy. Sometimes, in life, there are no options. No matter what you do, your circumstances are your own.” Just as his financial state belonged to him, from a lifetime of dissolute living. “I have to go,” she said gently. “You know that.”
He jerked, as though she’d run him through. “Don’t leave.” There was a faint entreaty that ran all the way through her.
“Why do you want me to stay?”
Panic flared in his eyes and he searched about. Daphne came over to him in a soft whir of skirts. She touched her fingers to his lips. Silencing him. “I don’t care that the ton thinks me inferior because of my birthright and leg or even my damaged reputation. I don’t care how many pounds you have or don’t have to your name. I care about what you can’t give me.” She let her arm fall to her side. “I want love, Daniel. I always did. I’ll not settle for less.”
He pulled his hand free, a frantic light glinting in his eyes, and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been a rake so long, I don’t know how to separate that from who I am. All I know is I do not want you to leave.” There was a hoarse desperation there that made her want to stay. For selfish reasons. To have him, in any way she could.
Yet, if she gave up on the offer made by the Marchioness of Guilford, just for a few fleeting months with Daniel, Daphne would lose all of herself.
She backed up a step. “If you defied your uncle and lost those funds, you would grow to resent me.” And that she would never be able to bear.
Pain sparked in his eyes. “You think so little of me,” he whispered.
“You misunderstand.” Daphne shook her head. “It is because I think so much of you that I’m leaving. You’ve offered me marriage, vowed to defy your uncle, without considering that, in doing so, you’d forfeit your future.” The opportunity to find love. And she was so very selfish and dark, because she despised the woman who would one day own his heart. “I was offered employment.”
His lips moved, but no words came out.
“The Marchioness of Guilford and I spoke. She offered me a post at her institution.” She paused. “And I am accepting it. For you and Alice.” Daphne drew in a breath. “And me, Daniel. I must do this for me. For eighteen years of my life, people have pitied me.”
“I have never pitied you.” That denial ripped harsh from his throat.
Her heart tugged. “No.” Then there had never been anyone in her life like Daniel. Her friend and one-time champion. The boy, then man who’d seen a woman of wit and strength, and had not imposed limitations upon her because of Society’s perception on perfection. “But there is only one reason for me to stay.” You. “And a thousand reasons for me to go. You told me that I am the same person here,” Daphne touched her fingertips to her head and then her heart. “I need to do this.”
Some indefinable emotion glinted in his eyes and then, much like the hardened gentleman whose foyer she’d stormed, he peeled his lip back in a sneer. “You’ll just leave, then. You,” he spat that word as a vile epithet, “who accused me of using alcohol as a crutch and hiding myself away, will run.”
His words found an unerring mark. She scrabbled with her skirts. “I am not running.”
“Bah,” he shot back, scraping the air with his hand. “You’re no different than I am. I may have become a rake to protect myself, but going to Lady Guilford’s, you’ll be protecting yourself from the world just the same.”
His words held her frozen and she pressed her eyes closed. In this moment, she hated him. Hated him for being right. But more, she hated herself for having a gift proffered by the marchioness and wanting more. For in all her weeks with Daniel and his sister, thoughts of Ladies of Hope had barely been a thought.
She forced her eyes open. Security at Lady Guilford’s institution was the next best dream Daphne could hope for. “Not every girl or woman like me has the advantage of believing in themselves or having someone like you who believes in them.” Love for this man filled every corner of her being. For Daniel had never treated her differently. Not as a girl with an intact limb and not as a woman with a disfigured leg. “I need to be there, Daniel,” she said softly, needing him to understand.
He tensed his shoulders. “Do you know what I believe?” He didn’t allow her a chance to respond. “You are using your purpose as a way to hide.” Had he been snapping and snarling, that challenge would have been less painful than his quiet rebuke.
Tears blurred her vision and, unable to meet Daniel’s defiant gaze, she stepped around him.
“Daphne, wait,” he entreated. For a fraction of a moment where hope dwelled, she thought he would give her the words that would keep her here. He dragged a hand through his hair. “I have spent so much time keeping the world out,” his voice emerged ragged. “I don’t know how to let anyone in…or how to feel.” His admission emerged as an apology.
She sucked in a shuddery breath. “I want it all, Daniel. Love, a family, a purpose outside of a proper household, and in the absence of those other dreams, I will take at least one of those dreams that is presented before me.” With his silence and her heart splintering apart inside her chest, Daphne left.
Chapter 20
One week later
London, England
One week.
It had been seven days since Daniel’s scandal at White’s had landed on the front of every scandal sheet. A veritable lifetime where a rake such as he was concerned. Since then, there hadn’t been a hint of a whisper of impropriety or wickedness. Not so much as a naughty actress, scandalous soiree, not even an irate husband. In all, he should be thrilled with the triumph. He was waiting on a fortune about to fall into his lap, which would set him free of the financial strains created with his own careless hand.
There was still the matter of marrying Alice off, which might pose a bit trickier given the dearth of honorable gents in the whole of England and, more, the absolute absence of invitations to polite ton events. But ultimately, Alice would be gone as well as Daphne, and he would be alone, just as he wished his life to be. Or as he’d wished it to be. Now it was all so bloody jumbled. For, seated on the dais on the corner of his ballroom, he’d never been more miserable. Picking up the decanter at his side, he raised the bottle to his lips and froze.
…You drink too much, Daniel… You use it as a greater crutch than the cane I use for walking…
Daphne had been right. His drinking was a crutch. He slowly lowered the bottle to his side. He’d spent years attempting to numb himself, with whores, and wagers and liquor, because a part deep inside of him had been broken. She’d seen that truth and called him out for it. But she’d also seen good in him. Even as he hadn’t seen it in himself.
And she is gone.
He stared blankly forward. Then, what reasons had she to stay? What had he to offer her? Certainly not the love she deserved. He would ultimately destroy it and, in the process, her, and that he could not bear. For with her courage and conviction and strength, she was unlike all others. His throat worked and he damned the fates for having made a liar of him in his assurances all those long ago days.
“Daniel.” That unexpected greeting brought his head up. His sister stood at the entrance of the ballroom. He hopped up. “Alice,” he called, his voice echoing around the empty, cavernous space.
She sailed over and stopped before him. She ran her gaze over his wrinkled cravat and jacket. “Tsk, tsk, Daniel. It is bad form to drink alone,” she scolded as she hitched herself onto the dais. He didn’t bother to correct her likely supposition. Instead, he reclaimed his vacated seat. Alice picked up the decanter and took a long swallow.
Daniel swiped a hand over his face. By hell, if she could take a drink like that she’d had some experience. She was going to turn him grey. “A lady shouldn’t…” And the hypocrisy of offering any lessons on propriety or decorum promptly silenced him. He claimed the bottle from her and set it out of her reach.
His sister stole a sharp sideways looks at him. The lady was deserving of her resentment. The moment she’d entered the world and his mother had slipped out of it, Daniel had retreated, rejecting the small babe, Daphne, and all he’d once been. And because of who he was and, more importantly, who he could not be, Daphne had been forced out of Alice’s life. Regret filled him. …I am still that man…
Alice dragged her knees to her chest. She looped her arms around them. “Father hated you,” she said softly, unexpectedly.
His entire body jerked, as with those three words Alice ripped bandages off a wound he’d believed long healed. …you’ve allowed him in here…
“But do you know what, Daniel?” she asked.
“What?” he forced himself to reply, the single syllable utterance emerging ragged. Daphne and Alice together had shattered the armor he’d worn all these years. They’d left him exposed and battling more emotions and sentiments than he had in the whole course of his life.
“He hated me, too.” He whipped his head sideways, but Alice’s attention remained fixed on the opposite wall as she rubbed her chin back and forth over her skirts. “He hated the servants. He hated guests who came to call. All I knew was his hate.”
The late earl had not always been that way and, with that, an ever-growing shame continued to grip him. For Daniel had mourned the loss of a life he’d lost, but this empty, dark world of hate and sadness Alice painted was all she’d ever known. “He was once happy,” he forced himself to say. Until Daniel’s grip had slackened and his efforts to fight a current proved futile, and their family was the same, no more.
A Heart of a Duke Regency Collection : Volume 2--A Regency Bundle Page 99