She ignored the word he chose in reference to James. “He said he was sorry to have missed the ball.”
Persephone joined her on the small sofa. “I am pleased to hear he is being so attentive.”
“Except, it—The tone of the note is odd.”
“Perhaps your cautious nature is forcing you to doubt things you do not need to doubt.”
She held the card out to her sister. “Tell me your impression of it.”
Persephone made a quick perusal of the very brief note. “It does seem a bit more ardent than is usual for Lord Tilburn.”
“Is he being brash?” Adam demanded.
“No, dearest,” Persephone was quick to say. “Nothing in his note is the least bit untoward.” She looked over the note once more. “Perhaps word of your unending grumpiness reached the poor gentleman and he felt the more abject his apology, the more likely he was to not be drawn and quartered.” She tipped her head and caught her husband’s eye once more. “I have warned you about making too grand a show of your disapproval.”
“I am what I am,” Adam said.
Persephone’s gaze turned warm as it so often did when focused on him. “Yes, you are.”
“Besides, my afternoons with Daphne, a rare enough occasion of late, were interrupted by these flowers and that note. I have every right to be grumpy.”
Her father had turned down her company. Adam grew sullen when denied it. Was it any wonder she loved her brother-in-law as much as she did?
“Do you like Lord Tilburn?” Daphne asked them both.
“What I have learned of him these past five days, I like,” Persephone said. “He seems very kind and amiable, and his obvious preference for you certainly raises his worth in my eyes.”
Obvious preference. Another smile broke through her usual reserve as a wistful thought occurred to her. “I wish Harry were here this Season.”
“Harry?” Persephone lightly laughed. “He would tease you mercilessly.”
“True. But he would offer an honest opinion on Lord Tilburn. I should like to have a gentleman’s viewpoint.”
“Is mine not sufficient?” A hint of a smile tugged at Adam’s scars.
“You think everyone ever born is an imbecile,” she reminded him.
Persephone’s expression grew more amused. “Harry is so run ragged by his mischievous children that he might very well be too short on energy to sort all of us out as well as his growing brood.”
A memory of Harry and Athena’s second oldest escaping the nursery wearing not so much as a nappie during their last visit to Falstone Castle drove home the truth of Persephone’s words. “And with Athena so near another confinement, he likely would be distracted by that as well.”
“It is a miracle we get any coherent thoughts out of Harry these days,” Persephone said. “Though he does smile a great deal.”
“When has Harry ever not smiled?” He was the happiest person of Daphne’s acquaintance. “You do not find anything suspicious in Lord Tilburn’s flowers or note?” How she wanted to believe the sincerity of her very first floral offering. “Do you think he meant those ardent words?”
“Do you think he did not?” Persephone watched her pointedly. “I have no reason to doubt that he is being genuine. Have you?”
She couldn’t say that she did. Her experience with suitors and attentions was nonexistent. She simply didn’t know what to think.
* * *
“Lord Techney is an imbecile.” Adam made his entrance into the sitting room the next afternoon with his usual lack of subtlety.
Daphne and Persephone exchanged looks, but both managed not to laugh out loud.
Persephone rose and crossed to where Adam stood and wrapped her arms around him.
“This is a change,” he said. “At the Debenhams’ ball, you did nothing but scold me.”
“At the Debenhams’ ball, you were being difficult.” Persephone sighed as she leaned into him.
Adam held her but with a look of confusion directed toward Daphne. She shrugged, not knowing the reason for the unusually thorough display of affection.
“Are you unwell, Persephone?”
She shook her head.
“Are you certain? No one has upset you or been unkind?”
“No.”
“Insulting? Impertinent? Anything at all?”
Adam’s kind treatment of her sister was the first thing that had endeared him to Daphne.
“I am well.” Persephone kept her arms around him. “You have simply been gone all day, and I have missed you.”
“Unfortunately, the House of Lords is in constant need of adult supervision.” Adam kissed the top of her head—a display to which Artemis would have vehemently and vocally objected. Daphne never felt the discomfort her younger sister did. She found her sister’s happiness reassuring.
“So why is Lord Techney an imbecile?” Persephone led Adam to the sofa facing the one on which Daphne sat.
“There are far too many reasons to list them all.”
“The most pertinent, then.” Persephone sat tucked under Adam’s arm.
Daphne couldn’t look away. She had often imagined herself being held that way, with such tenderness and care.
“He has invited us to have dinner with his family.” Adam could not have looked less pleased if he’d been invited to be the guest of honor at a hanging.
Daphne likely looked almost as horrified but for entirely different reasons. Dinner with James’s family seemed like a much larger step in the direction of courtship than she’d expected. He had sent her flowers along with a very personal note, but she still couldn’t help thinking he acted more like a friendly acquaintance when they were together than he did a suitor.
“When is this dinner party?” Persephone asked.
“Three days, Persephone. The Almighty took seven days to create the world; we have three to prepare for the end of it.”
Persephone shook her head, though whether at his exaggerated objections or Lord Techney’s invitation, Daphne wasn’t sure. “What could have inspired Lord Techney to invite us to a family dinner? Certainly your reputation would be enough to convince him of the inadvisable nature of such a thing.”
“You were apparently not listening when I explained that Lord Techney is an idiot.”
“An imbecile, dear,” Persephone corrected. “A dinner party, though poorly thought through when the invitation is directed toward the Dangerous Duke, isn’t entirely an unreasonable thing. I assume there is some other bit of logic behind your dismissal of poor Lord Techney’s mental acuity.”
“He delivered the invitation to me at Lords, despite having not spent more than a moment there on any given day these past weeks and not often before that.” Adam’s censure was apparent. “We are on the brink of war with the Former Colonies, whilst already deep into war on the continent, and are seeing rioting in the north and in the midlands. A gentleman with any degree of responsibility would have done everything in his power to take up his duties in Lords this session. Techney, however, feels his duty there does not extend beyond irritating people with presumptuous invitations.”
Did Adam intend to refuse the invitation? Daphne could not say how exactly she felt about that possibility.
“And,” Adam continued, “Linus makes port the morning of this dinner and will arrive in London the next day. We cannot very well welcome him back into the bosom of his family”—Adam’s sarcastic tone brought a smile to Persephone’s face and very nearly to Daphne’s as well—“if that family is off prancing about London.”
“I would give a year’s pin money to see you prance, Adam.”
He laughed, something only Persephone had ever managed to make him do.
“This is one invitation, dearest,” Persephone said, “and one to a single dinner being held before Linus can possibly reach Town. You c
annot use him as an excuse to avoid it.”
“When have I ever required an excuse to avoid anything I didn’t wish to do?”
Persephone only smiled. “The solution to this difficulty is quite simple. I will accompany Daphne to the dinner party, and you can sulk here at Falstone House.”
“You will be spending much of the Season at balls and musicales whilst I am home, and you wish to add another evening apart to our already ridiculous schedule of them. This is your perfect solution?” He eyed Persephone with patent disapproval.
“Then you shall simply have to come to the dinner with us.”
“How fortunate for me,” he drawled.
“Do you mean to accept the invitation, then?” Daphne asked.
The flash of surprise that crossed both Adam’s and Persephone’s faces clearly indicated they had forgotten her presence in the room. That happened far more often than it ought.
“I believe we should,” Persephone said. “Lord Tilburn has been attentive. His father clearly wishes to deepen the connection. An intimate dinner party would be the best opportunity for us to come to know Lord Tilburn better.”
“That is likely their purpose, after all.” Daphne tried to convince herself that she was living the smallest fulfillment of her hopes where James was concerned. She wanted to believe it. She truly did. She also didn’t want to be disappointed if nothing came of these dreams.
Persephone pulled away from Adam and leaned toward Daphne, her brow pulled with concern. “What is it that has you so worried, dearest?”
“What if—” Personal confessions never had come easily to her. And yet this undertaking was so new and unfamiliar that she needed some guidance. “What if he comes to know me, then decides he doesn’t care for what he has found?”
“Then the whelp is a fool,” Adam declared.
Persephone stopped him with a gentle hand on his leg without ever looking away from Daphne. “You always have been wont to worry. But being courted—and I do believe this is the beginning of exactly that—ought to be a wonderful and enjoyable experience. Please try to simply enjoy it. Allow Adam and me to worry and watch.”
“And I most certainly will be watching him, Daphne,” Adam declared in his very sternest duke voice. “I offered my approval of his first visit to this house, but I made no promise beyond. I will keep a very close eye on Lord Tilburn, make no mistake about that.”
Chapter Ten
“This is lunacy, James. Utter lunacy.”
James walked beside his brother as they made their way from his London rooms toward Techney House. Bennett had arrived unexpectedly in Town only that morning.
“I have never once heard you mention this Miss Lancaster, and then word arrives from Father announcing that you are courting her? It is madness.”
James completely agreed, but giving voice to that opinion would not be helpful. He straightened his cuffs, attempting to appear at ease despite the weight in his chest and the oppressive heat of the late-summer day. The heavy clouds did little to improve conditions.
“I am certain all will work out fine in the end.” He’d been telling himself that ever since signing his deal with the devil the night before.
“By whose estimation?” Bennett demanded. “Mother wept when she read Father’s letter, and not tears of joy. I would certainly never advocate you marrying someone I know you do not love. Lands, I doubt you even care for her. You could not have known her before this Season.”
“I am sure I have met her in the past,” James said. “She looked familiar.”
“She looked familiar?” Bennett laughed humorlessly. “What kind of a beginning is that to a courtship?” He grasped James’s arm, stopping their forward progress. “Did she trap you into this? Trick you into compromising her?”
“No.” Miss Lancaster wasn’t the type to do anything so underhanded. “Father was more than a little presumptuous in what he wrote in that letter.” And even more presumptuous in his timing. For Bennett to have received the letter and come to Town, arriving less than twenty-four hours after James himself had been forced to agree to the courtship, Father had to have sent the letter several days ago. “A betrothal between us is not a foregone conclusion. I would wager Miss Lancaster would be shocked to hear that any kind of future between us is being discussed at all.”
Bennett did not look relieved. “You have never been one to act rashly, and such a swift courtship is inarguably rash.” He shook his head as they turned a corner. “I’d sooner expect the Duke of Kielder to run you through than allow you to compromise his sister-in-law.” Bennett’s voice suddenly dropped in volume. “Did the Dangerous Duke force your hand?”
“No.” There’d been no true force from anyone but Father. Despite having been the one to first propose a courtship between James and Miss Lancaster, His Grace watched James with suspicion. “No, he didn’t.”
James could see Bennett’s posture stiffen. Realization, it seemed, was dawning. “Father is forcing you, isn’t he?”
He didn’t answer. He knew he didn’t have to.
They turned onto the street where the family home sat. It was not the most fashionable address, something Father no doubt wished to rectify by means of his heir’s marriage. If there was any justice or mercy in the world, James would yet find a way to avoid that heart-wrenching conclusion to his father’s schemes. Neither he nor Miss Lancaster ought to be doomed to a loveless marriage.
“What is he holding over your head this time?” Bennett asked.
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters what Father used to entrap you. This is your entire life, James. Your future, your children. Marriage is final, irrevocable. Deuce take it, it blasted well better be worth it.”
Backing out of the courtship would have cost Bennett his land and, with it, his very future. James had placed in the keeping of the Bank of England one copy of Father’s sworn and signed promise to never deprive Bennett or Mother of their incomes or to ever force Bennett’s hand in marriage. He kept another copy in his portable writing desk. Father’s scheming and planning would stop with him.
“It was worth it,” he whispered.
“You’re not going to tell me what it was?”
And allow Bennett to feel guilty about the entire debacle? “No, I’m not.”
James could see disappointment in his brother’s eyes.
Bennett waited only a moment to light into him. “What happened to ‘the bird slipping from its cage,’ James? You have talked all these years about fighting for our freedom, of not letting Father take control of our lives. How could you let him win like this?”
“If I could have found a way around this, I would have.” James did an admirable job of maintaining his calm in the face of his brother’s onslaught. “Until and unless I stumble upon something miraculous that disentangles me, I have no choice, Ben. No choice.”
They were within sight of Techney House. A traveling carriage sat out front, servants rushing back and forth.
“Mother must have arrived,” Bennett said.
“Mother?” James could not have been more shocked. “Our mother?”
Bennett gave him a look of annoyed impatience. “Her oldest son has, according to the post, quite suddenly undertaken a serious courtship with a young lady none of us has ever met. Of course Mother came to Town.”
Mother feared London. She had for decades. His promise to Father had brought her to Town. He could not allow her to be miserable here once again.
They hurried up the front steps. The chaos in the entryway spoke volumes of everyone’s unfamiliarity with the arrival of the mistress of the house. Trunks sat stacked whilst footmen looked to the butler in obvious confusion. A maid hovered near the doorway, her brow knit as she listened to a chain of garbled instructions from the housekeeper.
“Were you not warned of Lady Techney’s arrival?�
� James asked the harried housekeeper.
“We were not, Lord Tilburn,” she said, apology and pleading coupled in her tone and expression. “I am afraid she isn’t seeing us at our best.”
Had Mother ever been in residence with Mrs. Green as the housekeeper? James didn’t think she had. No wonder the poor woman was beside herself.
“I am certain you have kept the mistress’s chambers tidied.”
Mrs. Green pulled herself up quite proudly. “Of course I have.”
“And your menus are always beyond reproach,” James added. “The secret to pleasing Lady Techney is a comfortable, quiet room and soft bread with her dinner. She is excessively fond of bread.”
Mrs. Green’s expression turned very thoughtful. “Cook is a genius with breads of every kind.”
James agreed with a nod. “And we’ve already established that you take prodigiously good care of the bedchambers. I believe, Mrs. Green, you have nothing to fear in pleasing your mistress.”
A flicker of relief passed across Mrs. Green’s face before she straightened her shoulders once more. Her air of command firmly in place again, she instructed the quaking maids on their duties. In the meantime, the butler seized control of the situation and the traveling trunks were on their way to the appropriate chambers.
James kept his further concerns to himself. The already shaken staff hardly needed to see that his faith in them was wavering. All was running smoothly for the moment. He would wait to explain the necessity of having a footman ready to send for a physician or apothecary at all hours.
Mother could settle in while James readied himself to explain to her his intention to pay particular attention to a young lady entirely unknown to her. Somehow he would soothe her fears as he always did. He would act as a buffer between his parents, keeping their unhappy relationship from souring further. Somehow he would prevent Bennett and Father from coming to blows. And in the midst of it all, he would attempt to unsuccessfully court an innocent and unsuspecting young lady.
He rather hated himself for that last part.
He knocked lightly on Mother’s bedchamber door. Her lady’s maid opened it a moment later. “Good afternoon, Jenny. I’ve come to bid my mother welcome.”
Romancing Daphne Page 8