Duke with Benefits

by Manda Collins

  Daphne couldn’t stop herself. She laughed.

  “I don’t see anything amusing about this matter, Lady Daphne.” The Squire leaned forward. “A man is dead.”

  “I am well aware of that fact, Mr. Northman,” she said before Ivy could intervene. “But I find it very hard to believe that the murderer has my mathematical and ciphering abilities. If he is able to unravel the message, then I shall be very, very surprised.”

  The magistrate just stared at her for a moment. Daphne was used to this reaction to her pronouncements about her abilities, and did not flinch.

  “I’ll say this for you, my lady,” the man said with a shake of his head. “You’ve got bottle. I only hope you’ve got someone looking after you while you’re haring about the countryside searching for Lady Celeste’s bits of paper.”

  “I am perfectly capable of—” Daphne began, but was interrupted by Ivy, who rose and locked arms with her.

  “Thank you so much for your time, Squire Northman,” Ivy said inclining her head. “We will keep you informed of our progress. As we hope you will do with your own progress in finding Mr. Sommersby’s killer.”

  Once they were in the hall, Ivy whispered, “I thought we’d agreed you would not argue with the man overmuch. He already is suspicious about this entire affair. We do not wish him to decide that you are acting strangely or had reason to want Sommersby dead yourself.”

  “But I did,” Daphne said in an answering whisper. “Though not because of the cipher, you realize.”

  “I’m not a mathematical genius, Daphne,” said Ivy with a huff, “but I am not a simpleton. Of course I know you had other reasons. But we haven’t told the Squire about that, and if you intend to keep it that way then you had best not speak of it here in his hall where the servants might be listening.”

  That gave Daphne pause. She truly didn’t want to explain what had gone on with her and Sommersby in the past. And Ivy was right. It would give him reason to suspect she had even more reason to kill him.

  They were almost to the bottom of the main stairs when Daphne heard a familiar guffaw coming from below.

  As she and Ivy reached the ground floor, she was shocked to see her father there, with Mrs. Northman’s arm in his, as if they had just returned from a walk.

  “Father,” she said as the couple handed their hats and coats to the waiting footman, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  As if he’d only just seen her, the Earl of Forsyth gave a theatrical start. “My dear daughter,” he said. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  That was a lie, she knew, since he could hardly be surprised to see her in the home of a neighbor.

  “I thought you’d returned to London but imagine my surprise when I learned through gossip you were still here,” she said, watching as Mrs. Northman’s glance flitted from one Forsyth to the other in barely disguised glee. “Why did you not tell me you were staying in the neighborhood?”

  “Did I not?” Forsyth asked. “It must have slipped my mind after our disagreement the other day. Though I must admit that I was able to come to quite agreeable terms with your betrothed. How is Maitland?”

  At the mention of Maitland, Daphne felt herself color. “Maitland is none of your concern. And he told me that he gave you enough funds that you shouldn’t bother us again anytime soon. Which makes me ask again, why are you still here?”

  If he felt the sting of her rebuke he did not let it show. “If you must know, I was at school with Northman. And when I met him on the road to Little Seaford, he was kind enough to invite me to stay. And since I would like to be here for your nuptials, I thought I would accept.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You are going to wed soon, are you not? A little bird told me that you were seen at The Bo Peep looking very cozy indeed. In fact, someone said that Maitland claimed you were already wed, which I know cannot be true. Why it takes a day’s hard riding at least to get to London for a special license.”

  Before Daphne could respond, Mrs. Northman spoke up. “Lady Daphne,” she said with a catlike smile. “I was rather shocked to hear of your hasty betrothal. Though I suppose that is becoming quite typical of the way things work at Beauchamp House. If we are to go by the precedent set by Lord and Lady Kerr, that is.” She nodded in Ivy’s direction.

  “Now listen here, Mrs. Northman—” Ivy began with a scowl.

  Daphne, knowing that no good could come of a sentence begun that way accepted their pelisses and hats from the butler and led her friend to the door.

  “Good-bye, Father,” she said over her shoulder as she hurried her friend away from danger.

  “But what of your wedding?” he called after her.

  “Why didn’t you let me speak my mind to her?” Ivy complained as they hurried away from the Northman home and toward the lane leading back to Beauchamp House. “I’m a Marchioness now and outrank her. Didn’t you say that reminding people you outrank them helps?”

  “Not when Mrs. Northman loathes you as much as she does,” Daphne explained. “And besides that, you shouldn’t get overexcited. Lord Kerr won’t like it.”

  “Oh piffle,” Ivy said with a scowl. “Kerr knows how I feel about her. And I’m not an invalid.”

  Daphne thought about the possibility that she might soon be saying the same thing. If Lord Kerr was any indication, men became quite overprotective when their wives were breeding. “Very well,” she said, stopping as they reached the end of the Northman’s drive. “Would you like to go back and rip up at her?”

  “No,” Ivy replied grumpily. “I’m no longer in the mood. Besides I do not wish you to have to see your father again. What on earth was he thinking to stay in the neighborhood without informing you?”

  “I don’t know,” Daphne replied. “But it can’t be good.”

  Chapter 15

  “I’m afraid his lordship and the ladies have walked over to the vicarage to meet the new vicar, your grace,” Greaves informed Maitland when he arrived back at Beauchamp House the following day.

  He was bone tired, and still troubled over his conversation with his mother the day before. But he needed to see Daphne before he could rest—because, truth be told, he missed her.

  Handing his hat, gloves, and greatcoat to the butler, he asked for hot water to be sent to his room. Then, recalling what Lady Celeste’s note in Renfrew’s belongings had said, he asked the older man if he could recall the name of his aunt’s solicitor in Battle.

  “Yes, your grace,” Greaves said with a nod. “It was a Mr. Hargrave.”

  A flash of some emotion Maitland couldn’t read crossed the butler’s face, and something about how quickly the man was able to recall the name told him it wasn’t the first time he’d heard the question. “Lady Daphne asked after Hargrave while I was away, didn’t she?”

  “Indeed, your grace. Though she did not ask for the man’s direction.” He gave a small smile. “I believe she was waiting for your return, if I may say so.”

  Well, thank heavens for that, at least. Maitland had been half expecting to learn Daphne had traveled to Battle on her own when the butler told him she was home.

  With thanks to the man, he hurried upstairs to wash off the worst of his travel dirt and change clothes, then because he was mindful of getting to the vicarage before the others left, slipped through the secret passageway off the kitchens and took the shortcut along the shore.

  “When the vicar’s housekeeper showed him into the comfortable drawing room of the tidy manor house, his cousin, sister, and the four bluestockings looked up in surprise at his entrance. Daphne was seated beside a handsome man with curling light brown hair and smiling eyes.

  Maitland hated him on sight.

  “Your grace,” the man, who must be the new vicar, said with a warm smile. “I am glad to meet you. From what your sister and her friends have said, you are a most amusing fellow.”

  The duke glanced at Lord Kerr, who gave a slight shrug as if to say “What did you expect?”

  Then his cousi
n stood and performed the introductions. “Reverend Lord Benedick Lisle, may I introduce my cousin the Duke of Maitland?”

  “That sounds rather imposing, doesn’t it?” said Lisle after he and the duke exchanged bows. “Among friends, I am just Ben.”

  “And are you?” Maitland asked, with a raised brow. Something about the fellow set his back up. Perhaps the fact that he’d seemed so cozy sitting next to Daphne when he arrived. “Among friends, I mean. You’ve only just met us all today, as I understand.”

  Before the vicar could respond, Lady Serena spoke from where she was seated beside Daphne on a rather hideous green chintz settee. “We have actually determined that Benedick shares many acquaintances in common with us, Maitland. And he is the brother of Lord Freddy Lisle. Were you not at school with him?”

  On closer inspection, Lisle did bear a striking resemblance to his brother Freddy, whom Maitland had known at university. And in that context, his good looks and charm made absolute sense. The Lisle brothers were known for their way with the ladies.

  “Indeed, I was,” he said. “Though Freddy was a year ahead of me. We did run in some of the same circles.”

  “Freddy knows everyone,” the vicar said with a laugh. “I have yet to visit any part of England where I haven’t met someone who has at the very least heard of him.”

  “But surely it is your brother Lord Cameron Lisle who is the more famous of the two,” Gemma said from where she was examining a shelf of books. “He is quite well known as one of England’s foremost natural scientists. I’ve read all of his treatises. They’re quite fascinating.”

  Benedick hid a smile. “I would promise to tell my brother of your praise in my next letter,” he said, “but I’m afraid his sense of his own importance is already quite outsized enough.”

  “One cannot blame him for being proud of his achievements,” Daphne said, coming to the absent man’s defense. “There is nothing wrong with being aware of one’s own strengths.”

  Further conversation was stalled by the arrival of the tea tray, which Lady Serena offered to preside over.

  “Your cousin and the ladies were telling me a bit about what happened here before my predecessor retired,” the vicar said as cups were handed around. “I must confess, it does not sound like the sort of thing I am used to as a general rule. Most parish scandals are rather dull.”

  He was referring, of course, to Ivy’s kidnapping and the former vicar’s harm at the hands of Lady Celeste’s killer.

  “Unfortunately, we seem to be prone to some rather unusual happenings in the area,” Lord Kerr said, taking a seat on the divan beside Ivy. “I suppose you’ve heard by now about the business with Sommersby at Beauchamp House?”

  “A bad business,” Lord Benedick agreed. “Mrs. Northman was quite happy to fill me in on the particulars.” He gave a slight grimace. Clearly, he had not been charmed by the magistrate’s wife, Maitland thought wryly. The matron would be quite disappointed.

  “She is a very unpleasant woman,” Daphne said with her customary certainty.

  Maitland was prepared to defend her to the clergyman, but he only said mildly, “I cannot disagree, Lady Daphne. Though it is perhaps un-Christian of me to say so.”

  “She is hardly in a position to cast judgment.” Sophia turned from her examination of a small landscape hanging above the fireplace. “Mrs. Northman, I mean. She who is without sin and all that, after all.”

  The vicar raised a brow. “I hope no one here will be casting stones any time soon.”

  “Only into the sea, Lord Benedick,” said Sophia with a hint of color in her cheeks. “Much as it would satisfy me to take Mrs. Northman down a peg. She has been quite unpleasant to several of my friends now. And I do not tolerate such for long.”

  “Most loyal of you,” replied the vicar with an approving glance.

  The conversation then turned to other, less-inflammatory topics, like the local congregation and how the newcomer was settling in. Before long Lady Serena rose, as did the others, to take their leave.

  When Maitland lingered behind the others, Daphne did as well, telling them that they would be along soon.

  “I had hoped for a word alone with the vicar,” he said in a low voice as she placed her hand on his arm.

  “But this involves me as well as you,” she said with a frown. “Why should I not be here when you speak to him?”

  Lord Benedick, who watched them with some amusement in his eyes from his place before the mantle, bit back a grin. “I take it you wish to speak to me about performing a marriage?”

  Startled, Maitland turned to him. “What makes you guess that?” Perhaps he and Daphne wished to speak to the fellow on some arcane matter of theological importance. Or they wished to invite him to supper at Beauchamp House. They could be here for any number of reasons.

  “For one thing,” the vicar said, looking from one to the other, “as soon as you entered the room, your grace, Lady Daphne’s entire demeanor lightened.”

  Daphne frowned, and placed a hand to her cheek as if to verify the statement.

  “And you, Maitland,” he said to the duke, “scanned the room until you found her, then relaxed, as if knowing her location allowed you to be calm again.”

  Maitland wasn’t sure if he was pleased or annoyed at the other man’s assessment.

  “The duke has just returned from London where he acquired a special license,” Daphne said. “That is, I presume you were successful?”

  “Of course.” Maitland was not a mathematics genius, but he was quite able to exert his ducal influence when necessary. “And, as you guessed, we should like you to perform the ceremony. Here in your church preferably.”

  He hadn’t discussed the matter with Daphne, but Maitland had fond memories of sitting beside his aunt in the family pew here as a boy.

  But the idea seemed to appeal to Daphne, and she nodded her agreement.

  “I would be delighted,” said the vicar with a warm smile.

  They made plans for ceremony in three days’ time with just their friends in attendance.

  As he walked them to the door, however, Lord Benedick stopped. “I just remembered. There was something I found while going through some papers my predecessor left behind. If you’ll wait for just a moment?”

  And before they could protest, he hurried from the room, returning a moment later carrying a sealed letter.

  “I didn’t make the connection until you arrived this afternoon, Lady Daphne,” the vicar said as he handed it to her. “And then there was no convenient moment to bring it into the conversation. I suppose you met the old vicar before he departed and he wished you to have it?”

  But when Daphne held out the missive, her scrawled name was in Celeste’s handwriting.

  “Thank you very much,” she said, staring down at the page. She made no mention of what the note could pertain to. Noting the seriousness of her expression, the vicar didn’t ask.

  Ready to get her alone so that they could open it, Maitland bowed to the clergyman and they made their farewells.

  They made their way to the path leading from the vicarage to the sea stairs in silence.

  As if by mutual agreement, they didn’t stop to read the note until they were at the bottom of the stairs, out of sight of both the vicarage and Beauchamp House, which loomed over the cliffside cave entrance that served as the portal to the secret passageway.

  There, Maitland handed Daphne down to sit on one of the lower steps, and he sat down beside her.

  She slid a finger beneath the seal and opened the folded page.

  * * *

  Daphne had felt such a cavalcade of emotions since arriving at the vicarage that morning, she almost suspected she was sickening with something.

  If the Reverend Lord Benedick Lisle was to be believed, she was love sick, though she knew very well that whatever it was she felt for Maitland was something far less hysterical. She wasn’t even sure she was capable of such a thing as love. Affection? Absolutely. Attraction
? Certainly. But love implied flights of fancy and public declarations. And she was as prosaic as ever.

  Even so, when he’d arrived in the parlor of the vicarage, she had felt a spark of elation to see him after his absence. Had it only been a day or so? If one measured by how much she’d missed him, it would have been a month at least.

  She hadn’t realized just how transparent her affection for him had become—for that was what it was—until the vicar mentioned how she’d looked on seeing Maitland’s arrival. She wasn’t normally one to wear her emotions on her sleeve. But then the past few days had been far from normal.

  She’d been so pleased to see him, in fact, she hadn’t even argued with him over his decision for their wedding to take place in the church. It wasn’t that she was against having it there, but she had thought perhaps the gardens of Beauchamp House would be pleasant. The wedding was just a legal formality, however, so it hardly mattered where it took place. And Maitland seemed to be sentimental about the area, so he likely had his reasons for wanting it in the tiny church.

  Their silence on their walk back toward Beauchamp House was comfortable, rather than awkward, as silences could sometimes be. And she was pleased to have him beside her, feeling the pleasant zing of attraction between them even as they did something as ordinary as walk home.

  Now, seated beside him on the sea stairs, Daphne read aloud from Celeste’s letter.

  My dear Lady Daphne,

  I gave this letter to the vicar to, in turn, give to you should you come to him for assistance in the quest I left for you.

  It is my hope that if someone should get the cipher before you, you will find the second set of clues I’ve left for you. I have always believed it is better to prepare for the worst while hoping for the best, and unfortunately, there are those who would like very much to know the location of the prize I left for you. One of the paths to it is more straightforward than the other, but I have faith that no matter which you take you will emerge the victor in my little game. Certainly no other is as quick with numbers and ciphers as you are.