Yet last night he’d only had eyes for her and she’d relished that power. She’d chosen not to be invisible with him, but to show her true wants and wishes.
Her courage was increasing in strength. This morning, she’d received a note from Mr. Orham, the owner of Winterford House, stating that per her request, the Pembrooke family physician, Dr. Camden, had scheduled a visit this morning. Mr. Orham went on to ask for the pleasure of her company afterward to discuss her bid on the property.
Her plans were coming along nicely. It was another step in her start to build a life for herself, one that would allow her to protect unwed women from the heartbreak of an unwanted pregnancy. Daphne had seen enough heartache to know she couldn’t save everyone who needed her, but if she could save just one life, all her sacrifices would be worth it.
Within the hour, Tait had hired a hackney and had escorted her to Winterford. She pushed her musings aside and concentrated on the lovely grounds in front of her. The fountain was shut down for the winter, but the expertly kept gardens were clearly visible even through their winter sleep. The property would offer the women an oasis within the city.
“Lady Daphne, do you need me to view anything else?” Dr. Wade Camden asked. The handsome and serious-minded doctor stood beside her. His tawny hair and the capes of his greatcoat waved gently in the chilly breeze.
He was a gifted physician who had delivered Alex and Claire’s children. He’d also delivered Emma and Somerton’s daughter. It said a great deal that they trusted him to bring their children into the world. Daphne had relied on the good doctor’s opinion when she’d met with the architects for the remodel of the home. His first recommendations had been to incorporate birthing and examination rooms for the residents.
“No.” Daphne smiled. “You’ve generously given your time to me. I appreciate your advice for future expansion. If this effort proves successful, then women would flock from all over London.”
Dr. Camden rocked backed on his heels and surveyed the grounds. “It’ll be more than successful, I’m afraid.” His brow ceased into neat lines. “You’ll have not only women from London, but also women from the surrounding areas seeking your assistance. They’ll need this refuge. There will be no other place like it.”
All she could do was nod at his truthful pronouncement.
“A midwife approached me yesterday.” His visage creased into a scowl. “Her name is Grace Arthur. An obnoxious woman, but she’s highly talented and sought after in town. She might have a patient who’ll need your services.”
“Really?” Daphne raised her hand to her heart.
“I don’t know the specifics yet, but she’s a lady. Her family wants her to disappear out of the country until the baby’s born, but she’s refusing. The father is on a secret assignment for the Home Office and doesn’t know of the pregnancy.” He exhaled, the sound poignant. “Her family is threatening to cut her off and disown her if she continues with her plans. She’s convinced the baby’s father will marry her once he returns.”
It was Daphne’s most ardent wish to provide a haven from the ridicule and the condemnation that would fall on these women once their families discovered their pregnancies. Though Alice hadn’t suffered such a travesty, she’d suffered in her own way without seeking any help.
“That gives me all the more reason to open the home sooner rather than later.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a calling card. “Will you see that she gets this? As soon as I can complete the purchase, we’ll open up the home for her if she needs it.”
He took the card and placed it in his waistcoat pocket. “I’ll do that, my lady.”
“Thank you again, Dr. Camden.”
“It’s my pleasure, my lady. I’m a firm believer in the home’s necessity. Please let me know if you need anything else,” he offered. “Mr. Orham is waiting to speak with you.”
They said good-bye to each other, and Daphne headed back inside to speak to the building’s owner. It was fortuitous that he’d asked to speak with her, as she’d inquire when her solicitor could call and they could sign the purchase agreement. She quickly found Mr. Orham, a man in his late seventies, in the front sitting room.
“Thank you, Lady Daphne, for coming today. I don’t know how to say this.” Mr. Oldham examined the floor. Finally, he lifted his gaze to hers and pursued his lips. “I’m sorry, my lady. My son found another bidder this morning, and reluctantly, I agreed to entertain the bid. Imagine my surprise when I received it this morning sight unseen.” He slowly shook his head. “It’s greater than your bid. Actually, it’s more than the asking amount.”
“Pardon me?” she asked incredulously.
“I’m as shocked as you are. Because you’ve worked tirelessly on determining the suitability of the land and building for your home, I wanted to let you know immediately so you could discuss this with your solicitor and your brother. Perhaps they could advise you.”
“Neither the marquess nor my solicitor has anything to do with my decision, Mr. Orham,” she stated firmly. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from delivering a blistering lecture at the inference that she didn’t have the wherewithal to make a decision by herself.
She exhaled, but it did little to reduce her aggravation at the news. She’d budgeted carefully for the purchase and the renovations of the building and the attached lands. The home would not be an attractive charitable foundation. No outside monies would come into its coffers. It wasn’t like Claire’s charities for retired soldiers or war widows and their children.
Her home would cater to the women whom society viewed as wanton and loose in their morals. Thus, Daphne wouldn’t have much luck with charity balls or fund-raising auctions. Members of the ton were the only ones who had the money for such contributions. They’d most likely throw their money out a carriage window rather than send in a donation to keep her home for unwed mothers running. It would take most of her inheritance to keep it operational for years to come. She didn’t see how she could offer any more. Even if she asked Alex for help, he would likely refuse. He was dead set against the idea from the beginning.
With what she’d learned from Dr. Camden this morning, she needed to open the home as soon as possible. A woman was in desperate straits, and Daphne would not lose it to another bidder.
“Someone else is interested in the building?” The idea was simply incredible, as the building had sat vacant for over a year. Daphne clenched a fist in her skirts but kept the reaction to herself. She’d spent the last several months against Alex’s wishes with architects, craftsmen, and Dr. Camden evaluating the building for its suitability as a home. “I thought you told me I was the only one?”
Mr. Orham gently shook his head. “I’m sorry, my lady.”
“As am I.” She asked calmly, which was remarkable, as she wanted to scream, “I was under the impression we had an understanding?”
“The property purchase requires a written contract, and your solicitor hasn’t sent one to me.” Little beads of sweat covered his brow. “I want to be fair, my lady, since you were the first to show any interest. But—”
Daphne winged an eyebrow waiting for the “but.”
“I’ll sell you the property if your bid matches the current one on my desk,” he said meekly.
“And what is that bid?” she asked. If he said double the amount, she’d have to consider it. The location was perfect for her needs. The lands and the building were beautiful. The home on the inside was charming and comfortable. The only renovations required were the rooms Dr. Camden suggested plus several living areas enlarged. For heaven sakes, she’d already selected the name—Aubrey’s Place. It was Alice’s middle name. It wouldn’t embarrass her family, but it would be true to Alice’s memory.
“The bid is thirty thousand pounds,” he answered.
“What?” she gasped. “That’s three times the asking amount.”
The man had the good grace to flinch. “I’m sorry, my lady. That amount will ensure that my wife and
I are comfortable in our old age, plus provide a nice inheritance for our children.”
After last night with Paul and his lovely company, she thought things might be changing in her favor. She bit her lip in consternation. This had nothing to do with luck, and she’d not give up without a fight. “I don’t know if I can spend that amount,” she answered.
“I understand, my lady. However, I wanted to give you the opportunity to raise the bid.”
“May I ask who is bidding against me?” Granted, it was a stately home, but it lay on the outskirts of London. If she found out their identity, perhaps she could convince them to withdraw their bid for purely philanthropic reasons.
“Of course, Lady Daphne,” he answered. “I’m sure you’ll understand after I tell you. He’s very powerful and not to mention rich. He’s—”
Just then, the door swung open. The Duke of Southart, looking too magnificent for his own good or hers, stood in the doorway.
“Mr. Orham, have you signed the papers? I’m ready to proceed. This will make the perfect location to build my hospital.” His gaze shifted to hers, and the hint of shock radiated from his blue eyes. “Moon—I mean, Lady Daphne, what a pleasure to see you here this morning.”
Without acknowledging Paul, she directed her attention to Mr. Orham. “After all the effort I’ve expended on your property, I beg of you, give me two weeks to reevaluate the bid.” Without waiting for an answer, she left without another word.
It was a shame that her anger didn’t stay in her stead. Perhaps she would learn exactly what the Duke of Southart was up to.
She’d been a fool to even entertain the concept she could trust him.
As she took Tait’s hand to climb into the hackney, Paul’s baritone voice rang through the cold winter air. “Lady Daphne, wait.”
She proceeded to settle in the forward-facing seat. Tait’s gaze ricocheted between her and Southart. “My lady?”
“Ignore him.” Not that anyone could. Wherever he went, he caused a stir. She released a breath, blowing a frosty steam in front of her. Her time would be better spent going over the projected finances for Aubrey’s Place, and determining a way to find Garland and her journal without the duke. “Tell the driver I’m ready to leave.”
Tait nodded, then turned to address the driver.
From nowhere, Paul leaned into the carriage. His frame filled the doorway, blocking most of the light. The scent of snow and sandalwood wafted toward her, and her traitorous lungs breathed it in like heaven-sent ambrosia.
“Daphne, we need to talk,” he said as he climbed into the carriage.
“I didn’t invite you inside.” She directed her gaze to the vehicle across the way with the Duke of Southart crest emblazoned across the black enamel. “Your carriage is over there.”
“And you’re in here.” He lifted a brow and smiled. “Please. After last night, I think we owe it to each other, don’t you?”
“What do I owe you?” She wanted to snap at him, but miraculously, she kept her anger in check.
“You owe me nothing, but I owe you an explanation. Mr. Orham explained that you were interested in the building and land, too. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have bid on it.”
The earnest look on his face was almost her undoing. But she steeled herself against it and turned to gaze out the window. She couldn’t trust him. “Please. You bid three times the asking price. You knew exactly what you were doing.”
“I’ve directed my solicitors to find a location for a hospital I want to build. They sent word this property was available, and they thought it would be a perfect location.” From the corner of her eye, she caught him reaching over in her direction. Within seconds, his hand covered hers. “Would you look at me?”
Reluctantly, she did as asked, fully expecting to find a man who knew how to charm his way out of everything. Instead, she discovered he looked worried, and that simple fact confused her. “I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time finding the right building, location, architects, and builders. I can’t begin to tell you how angry I am that you swoop in with your ‘dukeness’ and ruin my plans.”
“Dukeness?” The worry on his face slowly transformed into confusion. The sight would have been comical if she weren’t so angry.
She took a breath and tried to gather her thoughts. “I should have known better than to trust you.”
“Why are you looking at the property?” He squeezed her hand.
In response, part of herself that had shared so much with him last night encouraged her to confide in him, but she fought the urge. “Business opportunity,” she answered. When he didn’t respond, she sighed. “I’m thinking of starting a charity, and this property would have been perfect.”
“What kind of charity?” he coaxed.
“Why do you want to know? Will it change your mind about bidding?” The challenge in her voice surprised him. He leaned back but didn’t release her hand.
“I’m interested in you and what you want to do.” The deep thrum of his voice could soothe a raging river. “And to answer your second question, I’m not certain I can withdraw my bid.”
“You can do whatever you want.” She lifted one brow in challenge. “You’re the Duke of Southart. To answer your question, I’m starting a home for unwed mothers.” She expected him to withdraw even farther in horror, but he leaned close and studied her. There was no condemnation in his eyes, nor were there any arguments forthcoming about how inappropriate such an endeavor was.
He released her hand and leaned back against the squabs of the hackney. The fine wool of his black greatcoat and fur of his elegant beaver hat were in startling contrast to the worn leather of the seats.
“That’s a noble endeavor, Lady Moonbeam.”
“Please, don’t call me that.” She glanced at her gloves. “It would be best for both of us if I not see you anymore.”
“What about the Reynolds?”
“It’s not your concern.” Last night, she’d had Tait hire a runner to try to find the boy in Seven Dials. So far, he hadn’t found him. No one knew of a Garland or an Elsie. Daphne’s only chance was to show up at the gambling hell this evening before the cook reported to work. “I’ll ask Tait to escort me to the Reynolds. Thank you for all your help.”
She’d said it. The words necessary to cut all ties between them. Instead of feeling justified in her response, emptiness stole through her. He’d been so kind and attentive to her. She couldn’t remember when a man had actually expressed an interest in her and her wants.
“It wouldn’t be best for me, Daphne.”
The deep hum of his words reminded her of the brandy he’d drunk last night. The warm, rich sound caressed her, and she shivered in response. She shook her head in a desperate attempt to clear her thoughts. “I can’t.”
“You can.” He drew close again, only this time he didn’t touch her. A mere inch separated their lips. She made the mistake of looking into his eyes where the brilliant blue seemed to burst with an emotion she couldn’t identify. “We’re friends. You can do anything you want with me.”
She bit back the need to laugh at his statement.
“Daphne, let me come with you tonight. If it’s not too late, I’ll find another property. Please, let’s be friends.”
A sudden heat bludgeoned her cheeks at his plea. Her thoughts tangled, but she refused to look away in embarrassment—she’d not hide anymore. “I’m changing the terms of our bargain from last night. I want Winterford and your assistance in finding my journal. In return, I’ll help with Pembrooke.”
“I accept your bargain. Shall we seal it with a kiss?” His breath smelled of peppermint and coffee, a heady scent that wrapped itself around her.
She nodded once, proving she was weak when it came to his kisses.
Gently, he brushed his lips against hers.
When he pulled away, she wanted to groan in disappointment. His touch reminded her of a soft spring breeze, and she wanted to be enveloped in it.
“There�
��s nothing I want more than to kiss you until we’re both senseless.” He picked up his hat and placed his hand on the handle of the carriage. “But first, I’m going to see if I can rescind my bid. I’ll not disappoint a friend.” He captured her gaze. “Whatever it takes, Daph, I won’t disappoint you. You’re my friend. However, tonight, you’re my Moonbeam. Until tonight, my lady.”
In an instant, he was out the door. Her lips still tingled from his touch.
Oh God, what had she just agreed to?
Chapter Nine
After this morning’s revelations, Daphne had almost sent a note telling Paul not to bother coming over. She didn’t need or want his help—particularly after discovering she was in competition with him for her ideal location for Aubrey’s Place. Yet he was so persuasive, and she’d come under his spell. He almost seemed eager to help her on both the building and the journal.
Daphne tugged the bodice of her silver satin gown up an inch higher. The black lace overlay and jet-black beading made the gown shimmer like black diamonds in the candlelight. She straightened her shoulders and tugged the bodice again for good measure. The dress really didn’t need adjustment, but as nervous as she was, it gave her something to do. Paul would be there within the half hour to take her to the Reynolds tonight. She had to find a way to wrestle her wayward emotions into some order so she appeared to be a woman in control of her world.
A task easier said than done. Her heart still fluttered every time she thought of last night’s kiss. Though she liked to think she was creative, Daphne never in her wildest dreams or fantasies could have imagined that kissing Paul would be such an incendiary event. One kiss contained enough explosive heat that she found herself blasted from her dull, ordinary life to one that could only be described as extraordinary.
With a sigh, she considered the rococo style of Louis XV chairs upholstered in a variety of hues consisting of currant reds, peony pinks, and plush ivory. Thankfully, all were strategically placed in the salon, so she could pace the length of the room without any obstacles. The brocade furniture coverings with their floral and striped patterns showered every square inch with a merry brightness. It was her favorite room in the house, and her darling sister-in-law, Claire, had sought her advice when it needed redecorating. But even with such luxurious surroundings, she couldn’t find any comfort or keep her thoughts contained.
The Good, the Bad, and the Duke Page 10