Daphne grinned. “I imagine it must be rather disconcerting.”
“Indeed. It’s one of the many trials of being an older brother, I suppose,” Tiffany agreed. “I would expect that Thomas feels the same way about you.”
If only that were true. In fact, Thomas did little to disguise his eagerness to hand her over to Blackburn so that he could get his hands on the additional funds he’d been promised. “Yes, I suppose so,” she responded, struggling to maintain her smile as they exited the house.
Stepping onto the front drive moments later, they advanced toward the waiting coach, entering the vehicle one by one, first Lizzie and then Tiffany.
Daphne stepped up into the vehicle next, eyeing the space next to Tiffany with a dubious expression.
“Perhaps you should sit on the other side,” Tiffany suggested with a rueful grin, for with her and Lizzie’s full skirts spanning nearly the entire width of the coach, there was scarcely enough room for one of the men to sit upon the remaining portion of the seat.
Daphne grinned back. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Taking up an inordinate amount of space is just one of the prices we women must pay for the fashions of our time,” Lizzie said laughingly as Daphne settled herself onto the seat cushion on the opposite side of the coach.
As Daphne smoothed her skirts, it was Brendon who entered next, taking the seat next to her, and then Nicholas followed, taking the seat beside Brendon, leaving Alex to squeeze himself into the small, empty space beside Tiffany.
Not surprisingly it was a bit of a tight squeeze on her side of the coach as well, for Brendon and Nicholas were both large men. And while Daphne scooted herself as close to the vehicle’s outer wall as she could, Brendon’s shoulder and muscled thigh were pressed firmly against hers as the door swung closed and two of the Chesterfield’s liveried footmen ascended to their perches at the rear of the coach.
“Perhaps we should have taken two vehicles after all,” Tiffany said, her tone apologetic as she surveyed the cramped interior of the coach.
“Don’t be silly, it isn’t that bad. Besides, we’ve only a short distance to travel,” Lizzie stated reassuringly. “I’m quite certain that we shall all make the journey none the worse for wear,” she continued with a cheery expression.
“Quite so. Traveling in such close quarters with three of the loveliest ladies in all of England certainly won’t draw a complaint from me,” Brendon professed with a rakish grin, causing everyone else to smile as well. Truth be told, however, being so close to Daphne was actually discomfiting as hell, for the faint aroma of her delicately-scented perfume was already invading his senses, reminding him of the countless times he’d trailed his nose ever so lightly along the length of her neck, breathing in her deliciously unique scent time and time again until it became, as it was now, an integral part of his memory.
To distract himself, he turned his attention to Alex and Tiffany, engaging them in a discussion regarding the upcoming renovations they had planned for their London home.
As the coach picked up speed, bouncing and swaying as it left the relatively smooth gravel drive and entered onto the rougher dirt road, it became increasingly difficult for Daphne to ignore her body’s reaction to Brendon’s nearness. She tried to think of something else, anything else, but with each bump in the road his thigh invariably brushed against hers, the sensation triggering a memory of their naked limbs rubbing against one another as they lay intertwined within a tangle of sheets. Clasping her hands together tightly in her lap, she turned to the window, concentrating her gaze on the passing scenery as she tried not to focus upon the all too familiar heat slowly unfurling in the pit of her stomach.
When their coach reached its destination some twenty minutes later, the Newmarket course was already bustling with activity as the first of the day’s races was set to begin within the next hour. Thus they, along with the two footmen who were now toting a large wicker basket filled with several bottles of wine and a variety of foodstuffs, were quick to leave the vehicle to the driver’s care as they made their way into the crowd, walking in the direction of the private viewing stand that Alex had reserved for them.
Moving through the bustling crowd, Lizzie looped her arm through Daphne’s as they followed a few steps behind the rest of the group. “Isn’t this exciting,” she exclaimed.
“It is,” Daphne agreed. And indeed it was, for with hundreds upon hundreds of spectators gathered in groups and along the edges of the track, bookmakers calling out odds, young stable lads running to and fro and numerous vendors hawking their wares, the atmosphere was teeming with excitement and anticipation.
“Here we are,” Alex said a few minutes later as they neared the row of elevated viewing stands. “Number six.”
Climbing the short flight of stairs, Daphne was pleased to see numerous chairs and several small tables scattered about as she stepped onto the large, shaded platform.
“Oh look, we’ve a marvelous view of the finish line,” Tiffany said as she stepped toward the wooden railing that fronted the space.
Daphne followed, getting her first good look at the infamous Rowley Mile as she stopped to stand beside Tiffany.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
Daphne nodded. “It certainly is.”
“It’s unfortunate that Ashleigh couldn’t be here to join us today,” Tiffany commented, “for she is assuredly the most ardent racing fan among us.”
“Truly?”
“She is indeed,” Brendon attested good-humoredly as he came to stand behind them. “My sister-in-law has always been horse mad,” he continued with a grin. “In fact, Nicholas gifted her with her very own racing thoroughbred just last year, though Wind Dancer isn’t entered in any of this weekend’s races.”
“My, that’s quite a gift,” Daphne replied.
“My brother spoils her incessantly,” Brendon laughed. “Though he did put his foot down when she told him that she wanted to disguise herself as a lad and serve as Wind Dancer’s jockey.”
Daphne’s eyes went round. “She didn’t?”
“Oh yes. Though it wasn’t altogether surprising, for Ashleigh has always possessed a bit of a reckless streak, not to mention an unequivocal fondness for breeches.”
“Breeches?” Goodness, Daphne was beginning to like the Duchess of Sethe more and more each day.
“It’s true. Tis also true that her equestrian skills are far superior to most men’s,” Tiffany avowed. “Present company excluded of course,” she added with a cheeky grin directed toward Brendon.
“What are you three grinning about?” Lizzie asked curiously as she came to stand beside Daphne at the railing.
“Oh, nothing of significance,” Tiffany replied offhandedly.
“Gracious, how will I ever locate Lord Palmerston in that crowd,” Lizzie mused, already distracted from her query as she turned her gaze upon the throng of people circulating below.
“Perhaps he shall find us instead,” Daphne suggested.
“Perhaps,” Lizzie mused with a slight frown, even as her eyes continued to scan the crowd.
“Well I don’t know about you three, but I could use a drink,” Brendon stated then. “Would any of you ladies care for a glass of sherry?” he asked solicitously.
Tiffany nodded. “I would.”
“Yes, please,” both Daphne and Lizzie responded.
As Brendon moved off to procure their drinks, Lizzie promptly enlisted Daphne’s aid in her search for Lord Palmerston. It seemed a nearly impossible feat, but surprisingly Lizzie spied him not long after, standing with several other gentlemen near the midsection of the track. “Look, there he is just over there,” she exclaimed, tugging on Daphne’s sleeve with one hand as she pointed in his direction with the other, “standing beside Lord Haywood.”
Attempting to follow the line of Lizzie’s gaze, Daphne scanned the nearby vicinity. “Oh yes, I see him now.”
“Tiffany,” she said, turning to her sister-in-law, who now stood a few
feet away, “I’ve located both Lord Haywood and Lord Palmerston,” she continued excitedly. “May we go down and invite them to dinner as Alex promised.”
“Yes, I suppose we should do so before the races begin and we lose sight of them,” Tiffany agreed. “We’ll need to ask Alex to accompany us, however.”
“Are you coming, Daphne?” Lizzie asked.
Daphne shook her head. “You go on ahead.”
“Alright then, we’ll return shortly,” she replied. Then reaching for Tiffany’s hand she pulled her to where Alex stood at the rear of the viewing stand.
“Well, it seems we’ve been abandoned,” Brendon stated a few moments later, glancing about as he stepped from the enclosure at the rear of the platform and walked toward Daphne, holding out a glass of sherry.
“It would appear so,” she responded with a little laugh, noting that with the exception of the two footmen standing at the rear, they were alone on the platform. Taking the proffered glass, she took a small sip. “It’s delicious, thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“So, have you any favorites in the upcoming race,” Daphne asked, feeling oddly discomfited now that she and Brendon were suddenly alone.
“A couple, yes. If you’d like, we could walk down to the paddocks and take a closer look at all of the horses before the race begins.”
“Yes, I’d like that.” Taking another sip of sherry, she then set the glass onto one of the nearby tables.
“Will you inform the others that Lady Hewitt and I have gone to the staging area to view the horses and will return shortly,” Brendon said to one of the footmen.
“Certainly, my lord.”
Offering his arm, Brendon then led Daphne down the steps and into the crowd.
“So, which one do you like?” Brendon asked as they stood at the edge of the viewing area, watching as the trainers prepared the first group of horses to take to the field.
“That one I think,” Daphne replied, pointing to a large strawberry roan with beautiful lines, four white socks and a matching diamond-shaped blaze upon his forehead.
“You’ve a good eye. He’s the odds-on favorite.”
“What about you? Which one will you place your wager on?”
“I like that feisty-looking fellow over there,” he said, pointing to the far side of the paddock, “the black. He’s a longshot, but I think he could take it.”
“I think you could be right,” Daphne agreed. “He’s a beauty.”
As they scrutinized and discussed the various horses, Daphne grew more and more relaxed, feeling at times almost like she had when they’d been together at the cottage. Not when they’d been in bed, lost to the throes of passion, but when they’d been downstairs or outside, talking and laughing, simply enjoying one another’s company. She missed that, almost as much as she missed the intimacies they’d shared.
Brendon too was reminded of just how much he enjoyed Daphne’s company as they stood together, watching the horses, exchanging light-hearted banter as they delighted in the air of excitement and festiveness that surrounded them. Just as before, he felt a genuine sense of happiness and contentment when he was with her, something he’d never truly experienced with any other woman outside of his family. And once again it had him questioning not only his feelings, but the direction of his future.
Approximately forty minutes later and much to Brendon’s delight, it was the black who crossed the finish line first, with the strawberry roan coming in a close second. And thanks to that win, as well as several others throughout the day, it turned out to be both a pleasurable and highly profitable afternoon.
And while Daphne didn’t place monetary wagers on any of the races, she too enjoyed the day immensely. In fact, aside from her weekend with Brendon at the cottage, it was perhaps the most enjoyable day she’d had since she’d agreed to marry the Earl of Blackburn.
By the time the final race had concluded, however, she was ready to return to the Chesterfield residence, for there was still another full day of racing to come on the morrow.
Chapter 14
By the time they arrived back at the house the hour was growing late, thus all parties were quick to seek out their respective bedchambers to refresh themselves and prepare for the evening meal.
Selecting a lovely off-the-shoulder, apricot-colored gown with a heart-shaped neckline and a simple, yet elegant design, Daphne spent extra time on her appearance, applying a subtle hint of cosmetics to her cheeks and lips and styling her hair in a sophisticated chignon that accented the exposed line of her throat. Admittedly, as there would be no hiding upstairs that evening, she wanted to look her best. And though she tried to tell herself that it wasn’t solely for Brendon’s benefit, deep down she knew that it was.
When she exited her room a short while later she immediately stopped short, for the door straight across the hall opened at precisely the same moment.
Stepping out into the hall, Brendon’s eyes widened in appreciation at the sight that greeted him. Looking as exquisite as a perfect English rose, Daphne stood directly in front of him, her lips curving into a soft smile as their gazes met and held.
“Good evening, my lord.”
“Good evening to you, my lady,” Brendon replied, quickly recovering his wits. “May I escort you downstairs?” he asked, holding out his arm.
“Yes, thank you.” Slipping her arm through his, she allowed him to lead her from the guest wing and down to the front parlor where everyone was gathering, awaiting the call to dine.
As they entered the room, Daphne saw that Lord Palmerston and Lord Haywood had already arrived, and while Nicholas and Alex stood chatting near the fireplace, Lizzie stood several feet away, pleasantly conversing with Tiffany and Lord Palmerston. Amelia, however, was seated upon the settee between her mother and an attentive Lord Haywood, her bandaged foot tucked discreetly beneath the hem of her gown.
Noticing their arrival, Tiffany promptly excused herself from Lizzie and Lord Palmerston and made her way toward them. “Daphne, how lovely you look,” Tiffany enthused as she approached.
“Thank you,” she replied with a smile, releasing Brendon’s arm. “And may I say that you are looking rather splendid yourself,” she continued, casting her admiring gaze upon Tiffany’s emerald-green satin gown.
“Why thank you. Now come, let’s get the two of you something to drink whilst we wait for dinner to be announced.”
“What, no praise or flattering remarks in regard to my appearance?” Brendon remarked with a playful lift of his brow.
Tiffany rolled her eyes. “As if your ego needs further inflating,” she teased good-humoredly, causing both he and Daphne to grin. Then turning, she summoned one of the nearby footmen to procure their drinks.
Dinner that night proved to be a lively affair with the enjoyment of the day carrying over well into the evening. And with the wine flowing as freely as the conversation, everyone seemed in exceptionally good spirits as they partook in the excellent meal the Chesterfield’s kitchen staff had prepared.
And while Daphne appreciated the scrumptious fare, she found her attention focused far more often upon Brendon than the courses put before her. It was difficult not to, for seated across the table as he was, Brendon’s handsome visage seemed to draw her gaze like the pull of a lodestone. Thus she had to remind herself more than once not to stare, lest him or one or more of the other occupants at the table take notice.
Brendon, however, couldn’t help but notice Daphne’s lingering gazes throughout the meal, for his eyes were drawn to her lovely face far more often than he would have liked. Thus it was almost a relief when the final course had been served and the ladies adjourned to the front parlor, leaving the men to their port and cigars.
It wasn’t long after that, that he, Palmerston and Haywood became involved in an animated conversation regarding the vast public works program in France, Haussmann’s renovation of Paris commissioned by Napoleon III, setting his thoughts on a different tack entirely, at lea
st temporarily.
Regarding the trio across the table, Nicholas leaned toward Alex, lowering his voice as he spoke. “Which one do you think will propose first, Palmerston or Haywood?” he asked teasingly.
For a moment Alex frowned in consternation, but then a sly smile creased his face a few seconds later. “While it might be a longshot, my money’s on Brendon.”
Nicholas blinked, casting his gaze toward Brendon and then abruptly back to Alex. “You noticed?”
Alex grinned. “That they’ve scarce taken their eyes off one another the entire evening?” he replied with a muffled laugh. “Yes, I noticed.”
“He’s clearly smitten,” Nicholas acknowledged with an answering grin.
“Undoubtedly, Alex agreed. “Though considering Daphne’s current popularity, especially amongst our male peers, your brother might be faced with some actual competition for once.”
“True, though I’m not entirely certain that he’s ready to give up his bachelorhood just yet, not even for the charming Lady Daphne.”
“Perhaps not,” Alex said with a shrug of his shoulders. “But as you and I both know firsthand, oftentimes we don’t really know what we want until we’re faced with the possibility of losing it.”
“Indeed, you are absolutely correct, my friend,” Nicholas agreed with a contented smile. “So only time will tell, I suppose,” he continued as he looked across the table at his brother.
Alex nodded, his expression amused. “I would imagine so. And in the meantime, I for one intend to sit back and enjoy the show.”
Later that night, long after Lord Palmerston and Lord Haywood had taken their leave and everyone else had retired to their bedchambers, Daphne lay quietly within her own, waiting for sleep to claim her just as she had the night before. But after tossing and turning beneath the sheets for hours, a restful slumber continued to elude her. She knew what the problem was of course; she simply had too many things on her mind. Well, one thing actually, or rather one person, Brendon. Knowing he was there, lying in his own bed just across the hall had her thoughts as well as her emotions rioting in turmoil. For although less than a day had passed since she’d tried to convince herself to set aside her feelings for him and focus on the reality of her future, it was proving far more difficult than she’d imagined. Especially as they’d spent the entire day and evening in each other’s company.
When Only a Rake Will Do Page 17