Romancing Daphne

by Sarah M. Eden

  James accepted her change of topic. “’Tis hardly guaranteed any time of year. England’s weather is quite famous for its stubborn lack of predictability. The French have glory-starved emperors, and we have mercurial weather.”

  “And a wide assortment of lawn games.”

  James chuckled. “That is our national treasure, to be sure.”

  She smiled at his quip, just as he’d hoped she would.

  “Has Lieutenant Lancaster arrived yet?” he asked.

  “Sadly, no,” she said. “Persephone is beside herself. One would think he was still the same eleven-year-old boy who left our home for a life in the navy instead of a seasoned sailor of twenty.”

  “And does the good lieutenant appreciate being babied by his sister, or does he merely endure it?”

  She pondered his question a moment. “He does make quite a show of being put out by her fussing, but I have seen him shed tears when she embraces him. Outwardly he may be a grown man of the navy, but inwardly he is still her little Linus trying very hard to be brave.”

  James attempted to imagine being greeted with tears of joy rather than complaint. “You have a wonderful family, Miss Lancaster.”

  “That I do.” They had reached Ben and the lawn bowls. “I should probably warn you, Lord Tilburn, that my sisters and I are particularly accomplished bowlers. We managed to convince Adam to convert a portion of the back garden at Falstone Castle into a green.” She gave him a look of obviously feigned warning. He rather enjoyed the lightness it granted her countenance. “There is no fiercer opponent in bowls than one who has played the game in the shadow of a gibbet.”

  James leaned a touch closer and asked in a low voice, “Is there truly a gibbet at Falstone Castle? I have heard rumors, but one can never be sure which stories about the duke are exaggerated.”

  “There most certainly is.” Miss Lancaster was rather pretty when she smiled, especially with that lone dimple drawing one’s gaze. “A gibbet and stocks. And both have been used within the past decade. They are kept in very good repair, in fact.”

  “A gibbet and stocks on a bowling green?” James shook his head at the odd picture that formed in his mind.

  “We take bowls very seriously.”

  He could feel a smile spread across his face. “Apparently. Perhaps I’d best secure you as my partner, then, lest I find myself in the unhappy position of being your opponent.”

  “That would be very wise.” Her color rose, though she did not shy away from their friendly banter.

  “Prepare yourself, Ben. Miss Lancaster and I mean to slaughter you.”

  Ben chuckled. “I shall simply have to find a slaughtering partner of my own. Tell me, Miss Lancaster, does your sister play?”

  “They both do, though I do not believe the duchess is quite equal to it today. Artemis, however, will take up your offer with enthusiasm.”

  Ben returned to the chairs where Her Grace and Mother were speaking of something and Miss Artemis was doing little to hide her boredom.

  “Ben is quite good at bowls,” James warned his partner as their opponents returned, armed for battle.

  “Then we must rise to the occasion,” she said. “We cannot allow our younger siblings to best us so publicly.”

  James placed the first of Miss Lancaster’s bowls in her hands. “Then I shall let you in on a well-held family secret.” He attempted to look exceptionally serious. “Ben has an infuriating habit of knocking the kitty far to whichever side most of his opponent’s bowls are not occupying.”

  Miss Lancaster tsked. “Then ought I to do my utmost to make that difficult for him?”

  James nodded. “Obstacles always have impeded his aim.”

  “Ah. The benefits of familiarity.” She adjusted the bowl, her eyes narrowing as she gazed down the lawn at the white ball awaiting her throw. “In exchange for that insight, I will inform you that Artemis is an unabashed and unrepentant cheat.”

  She made her toss, the bowl’s arched path placing it a very tidy distance from the kitty.

  “Another tidbit: Artemis sighs louder than any other person I know, particularly when she feels she is being bested.”

  James handed her a second bowl, which she placed at exactly the same distance from the kitty as the first, only on the opposite side. A third throw came to a stop very nearly in front of the kitty, though slightly off-center.

  “Ah.” James smiled. “I believe I see your strategy. To get closer than your bowls, one would have to throw around them, else risk simply knocking them closer.”

  Miss Lancaster looked up at him as he handed her the last bowl. She offered another dimpled smile, something he imagined few people ever saw. It was more than lovely. Natural and open in that moment, it was rather stunning. Something about her was decidedly different today, though he couldn’t say just what. Something in her appearance, perhaps, or in her manner of carrying herself. Whatever it was, he found he liked it. She was still the same kindhearted person but with an added measure of confidence.

  Only after Miss Artemis declared in a voice overflowing with sighs, “One cannot be expected to bowl with such a heartless sister as I have,” did James realize he’d missed his partner’s final throw. Her four bowls sat in near-perfect symmetry, a formidable guard around their treasure.

  “A fine round,” James said, feeling pleased that she’d done so well.

  “Mark my words,” she answered, her tone lighter than he ever remembered hearing it, “Artemis will find a way to undo what advantage we have.”

  The prospect didn’t seem to overly alarm her. He was not expected to prevent the inevitable underhandedness nor find a means by which they could win. Miss Lancaster had, in her unspoken and calm way, given him leave to not worry for a moment—a luxury with which he had very little experience.

  Miss Artemis began her turn with a truly dismal throw, followed by a very dramatic sigh.

  James bit back a smile and saw out of the corner of his eye Miss Lancaster do the same.

  “Sighing is one of her talents,” she said.

  “More than a talent, I would say. The girl is a prodigy.” How they both maintained straight faces, James could not say. “Regardless, I do believe you have her beat.”

  “Lawn games are, perhaps, the only area in which I am remotely her equal,” Miss Lancaster said.

  “I take leave to doubt that.” The honest comment earned James one more fleeting glimpse of her dimple.

  Miss Artemis’s remaining throws hardly improved. All James needed to do was place his own bowls in such a way as to make Ben’s usual strategy extremely difficult to implement.

  Miss Lancaster handed him his first bowl. “I believe we will slaughter them after all.”

  “I certainly hope so,” he replied.

  He lined up his first throw.

  A high-pitched yipping sound was his only warning before a blur of fur and noise dashed onto the bowling green. Mother’s latest adopted mutt had been banished to the stables for damaging the furniture in Mother’s dressing room, but its natural exuberance apparently had not abated.

  James moved swiftly toward the pup. “Leave those be, you scamp.” His directives came decidedly too late. Not one of the bowls remained unmoved and the kitty resided in the fur ball’s mouth.

  The pup trotted over to him quite as if he were a hound bringing his master the prize catch of the hunt.

  James squatted in front of the troublemaker. “That was not terribly sociable of you.” A pair of enormous brown eyes watched him hopefully. “You’ve ruined the game, you realize.” The pup dropped the now-wet white ball into James’s outstretched hand.

  Alarm pulled at Mother’s features. She would worry over having the afternoon’s activities ruined and the impression that would make on their guests. But what could he do? How was one expected to curb the enthusiasm of a puppy?


  James heard someone approach from behind, the swish of skirts indicating a woman. He looked over his shoulder to find Miss Lancaster standing next to him.

  “I am sorry about the game,” he said. “We would most likely have won if not for this mongrel’s interference.” He could not think of a means of salvaging the game. Miss Lancaster would be disappointed.

  “I told you my sister cheats.”

  He had not been expecting that reply.

  Miss Lancaster shook her head. “No doubt she found some means of summoning her four-legged accomplice at the most opportune moment.”

  James rose, watching her in confusion. He tried to nudge the puppy away when it began snapping at the tassel on his left boot. That was all she had come over to say to him? No complaints? No demands? “You are not too disappointed about the game?”

  She laid her hand lightly on his arm and once more offered her unaffected smile. “It is only a game. There is no real harm done.”

  “A level head in a crisis.” James tossed the kitty back onto the lawn and wiped the puppy slobber off his hand with his handkerchief. “That is a pleasant change.”

  “Would a disrupted game of bowls generally be considered a crisis?” she asked.

  He looked over at Mother still clutching her hands together in anticipation of something catastrophic. She could be very difficult when distraught. “In this house, everything is a crisis.”

  “And you are always expected to rescue the others?” Miss Lancaster asked.

  That was more insightful than expected. He had a feeling a response was not at all necessary.

  “Might I make a suggestion?” she asked.

  She wanted to address his problem? James nodded, as curious as he was surprised.

  “Allow your brother to sort out the mess this time.”

  He couldn’t simply walk away. “This little scamp has quite upset things.” As if to further prove his mischievous nature, the puppy continued nipping at James’s tassels.

  Miss Lancaster motioned toward the end of the bowling green where Ben had already gathered the scattered bowls and seemed to be setting up another game. “Mr. Tilburn appears capable enough.”

  “I should make good my escape, then?” The prospect was tempting.

  Miss Lancaster nodded. “Allowing someone else to take on the responsibilities you usually undertake would probably be good for all concerned.”

  James had never walked away from a family difficulty, little or great. To leave the others to address a problem felt uncomfortably foreign. Yet Miss Lancaster watched him with patient anticipation.

  The situation was not in the least dire. He might allow himself to see to his own amusement for just a moment. Surely that was not asking too much.

  “I, for one,” he said, “would very much like to know how this mutt will react to the sight of a shuttlecock.” James felt remarkably light as he escorted Miss Lancaster to the basket of lawn games. There was something to be said for a smile he hadn’t been required to earn.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Being social was exhausting. Daphne had talked and interacted with more people in the last few days than she generally did over the course of a month. The undertaking made her ever more grateful for those days when she had the pleasure of Adam’s quiet company.

  Today’s afternoon appointment, however, was coming to an end. Adam had risen from his armchair.

  “I do not know that Persephone will permit me to miss calls tomorrow,” Daphne said.

  “I will not be in London tomorrow.” He set the book he’d been reading on his desk.

  “You are traveling?”

  He nodded, his expression less than enthusiastic. “I am for Shropshire, within the hour, in fact.”

  Daphne’s heart froze on the instant. “Has something happened to Father?” His health had steadily declined during the years she and her sisters had lived with Adam and Persephone.

  “His caretaker informs me his mental state has deteriorated further. I thought it best to see for myself how the land lies so I can give your brother a thorough explanation when he makes port.”

  Daphne nodded at the wisdom of that, though the timing struck her as decidedly convenient for a gentleman who despised London during the Season. “And you will miss a significant portion of the social whirl.” She gave him a knowing look. “I am certain you are heartbroken about that.”

  “Keep your cheeky remarks to yourself,” he muttered. “I take no delight in leaving my wife to fend for herself in this den of idiocy.” He crossed to the sofa where she sat. An earnestness entered his eyes, and Daphne found she couldn’t tease him further. “Neither can I be at ease abandoning her when she is not in the pink of health.”

  Daphne had noticed Persephone’s flagging spirits, but no one had told her that her sister was truly ill. “If she needs to return home—”

  Adam cut off her offer before she’d fully made it. “Persephone insists she is well enough to remain, and I have learned over the past seven years that arguing with her is as futile as explaining to the Regent the benefits of exercising economy.”

  “Or undertaking a reducing diet,” Daphne offered.

  Amusement entered his very somber expression. Daphne was glad of it. She didn’t like seeing him so burdened.

  “How long do you anticipate being gone?”

  “The journey will not take overly long, but my sojourn there will depend entirely on what I find upon my arrival and how long your brother takes to arrive.”

  Daphne shifted a little to face him more fully. Adam was in his “methodical and conscientious overseer of the estate” mind-set. She’d learned long ago that he needed a listening ear more than anything else in these moments.

  “And the entire thing will be endlessly complicated by the fact that I am taking Artemis with me.” His annoyed tone spoke volumes.

  “Why in heaven’s name would you do that to yourself? You’ll more than likely toss her out the carriage window halfway there.”

  The stern lines in Adam’s face clearly indicated he was not anticipating the journey with any degree of equanimity. “At times like this, it is terribly inconvenient to be irrevocably in love with one’s wife.”

  “You would do this for Persephone?”

  He nodded. “I would do anything for her.”

  Artemis’s dramatic enthusiasm grated on Adam; everyone in the family knew as much. Yet he was willing to endure her exclusive company and what would likely be a long string of complaints mingled with ridiculous daydreams in order to spare his wife the trouble of her. What must that be like? To have a man love her to the point of such selflessness?

  “I have a few assignments for you.” Adam moved straight to the heart of the matter. “First, do not allow Lord Techney to bully you, something he is infuriatingly fond of doing.”

  “I may be of a quiet nature, Adam, but when in the years I’ve been under your tutelage have you known anyone to bully me?”

  He gave a crisp nod. “Next, keep an eye on that slippery fellow who purports to be courting you.”

  “Slippery fellow? Purports to be courting me?” She did not at all like his choice of words and hoped her tone told him as much. “You certainly take a skeptical view of things for one who has made himself exceedingly scarce in Society these past days.”

  “And yet,” he said unrepentantly, “I have kept just as close an eye on Lord Tilburn as I did the day he took you for a ride in Hyde Park. The difference being this time I didn’t choose to make my surveillance known.”

  A nervous flutter assaulted her stomach. “And what have you discovered with your spying?” She tried to sound less than concerned.

  His gaze narrowed as he studied her a moment. “Likely nothing you haven’t already noticed yourself but I’d wager have dismissed or explained away.”

  “Such as?” She c
ouldn’t entirely retain the surety she’d had in her tone a moment earlier. She had, in fact, noticed a few things that worried her.

  Adam took up the topic with no obvious hesitation. “Lord Tilburn pays you the same amount and type of attention he gives his mother, his brother, and any number of his casual social acquaintances. He keeps surprisingly busy with estate, family, and political matters for one who is neither the lord of the manor, head of the family, nor holder of the seat in Lords. A gentleman undertaking a suit generally puts a great deal of effort into it.”

  Daphne swallowed down the small lump forming in her throat. “What is it you suspect him of?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing in particular. I only think it odd that a man as thoughtful and meticulous as I have found him to be in the six years I’ve watched him would be so lackadaisical. His enthusiasm for any number of things is more pointed than it is for this courtship.”

  She’d seen with some alarm that his attentions hadn’t grown more frequent, neither had they moved beyond the merest beginnings of a friendship. But this was James Tilburn. This was a dream coming to life. Despite her uncertainty, she wasn’t willing to give up.

  She set her gaze on the empty fireplace, not able to look at Adam while she spoke aloud her worries. “You think he has changed his mind regarding me?”

  “No. I think he has yet to know his own mind where you are concerned. He strikes me as a man confused.”

  She felt his arm wrap around her shoulders. She pushed out a breath, days of worry and frustration escaping as she did. “What if he comes to the conclusion that I am not worth his time or energy?”

  Adam gave her a squeeze. “I offered him only a single unobjected-to morning call. Yet he has come more than once. You predicted after the armed escort in the park that he would not return. Yet he has. Thus far, he has shown himself a gentleman of determination.”

  “But?” She looked up at him, sensing there was more.

  “But I would ask that you be careful, Daphne. Use the intelligence God blessed you with. I have no wish to see you hurt.”