Never to Part (12 page)

Daphne allowed the baroness to steer her into a corridor and toward an empty pair of chairs in an alcove. After they were seated she noticed a look of chagrin on Lady Laurissa’s features.

“My behaviour must appear very odd to you, Miss Stratton,” the baroness began.

“Not at all, I assure you,” Daphne assured. “You have been nothing but kindness to me.” She clasped her hands and bit her lip. “I must apologize—”

“I shall hear none of that,” the baroness said firmly. She leaned forward and put a hand atop Daphne’s. “You mustn’t concern yourself or ever think that I was distressed by your imitation of my stride and my ‘interests,’” Lady Laurissa continued. “I know you would have never done it in the ordinary run of things.” She leaned closer.

“That eve the punch had a quantity of that new Russian drink—oh, what do they call it,” she pursed her lips. “Vino—no, vodka. Sent my butler out for some once we arrived in Town,” Lady Laurissa confided. “Much like gin in looks,” she added instructively. “Colourless and without a distinctive taste. Jems told me one can imbibe and be completely unaware of doing so but become quite foxed.

“It was a rather tasteless joke,” the baroness declared. “I don’t doubt also that you had some promptings in your choice of mimicry.” She squeezed the young woman’s hand. “Put paid to the incident. I gave it no heed from the first as I told you in my letter.”

“Thank you, my lady. You are too generous.”

“Have you thought more about the Dremore Treasure?” Lady Laurissa asked.

Surprised at the abrupt change in topic and forthright question, Daphne gaped at her.

 “I see you have. Excellent. We must have another coze, but not here my dear. Too many,” she touched her ear with her fan. “Ah, here comes Lady Tretain. I must speak with her.

“My regards to your brother.” The baroness stood and waved at an elegant woman. After introducing Daphne, the baroness insisted she required Lady Tretain’s arm to the card room.

Daphne fanned her face as the two walked away.
What an odd conversation
. She glanced up to the railing on the stair above and saw Christopher Gumby and Lord Dremore looking down at her. She flicked her gaze downward at once.

“Miss Stratton,” Eldridge Blanchard bowed before her. “May I join you for a moment?”

“I do hope my aunt has not upset you, Miss Stratton,” Eldridge said. “The workings of her mind can be rather—well, odd at times.”

Affronted by his assumption of an intimacy between them that did not exist, Daphne inquired acerbically, “Are you and your cousin similarly bent?”

“Not noticeably so,” he answered with a wan smile.

The regret in his eyes was true but his aura was murky. He was up to something.

“But I have no wish to speak of Dremore,” Eldridge told her. Nor,” he bent a sad gaze on her, “do I believe do you.”

Daphne lowered her gaze, more uncomfortable than ever with the degree of familiarity he assumed. Why then had the man protested against his inability to offer for her? He simply was not to be trusted.

“Your journey proved profitable? How did you find your friend?” asked Eldridge. “Mary George was it?”

“You know I went to Biddleage?” she asked.

“I overheard your woman tell Stratton,” Eldridge told her.

Lie
. Fear tightened her chest at the look in Eldridge’s eyes.

“Do not fear,” he said. “Dremore was also out of town so Stratton was not gaming,” Eldridge said with a knowing grimace. “I was able to steer him to safer pursuits.”

 “Thank you,” Daphne said though troubled. His aura again did not match his words. Becoming aware of the question in his gaze she said hurriedly, “I found Mary quite well, if a bit lonesome for her husband.

“Biddleage is a delightful village,” she continued. “It reminded me of home.”

“Then nothing unusual happened during your visit?”

His fierce gaze shook Daphne. “Of course not,” she prevaricated.

“I am to meet your brother later this eve,” he told her. “I hope to keep him from foolishness. Remember that you can call on me for assistance in any matter,” he said, bowed, and sauntered away.

 * * * *

Richard found his mother in the card room. On the table before her stood several generous stacks of coins. He wished he could ask her what she had been speaking about to Daphne. What of Daphne and Eldridge? As if the thought conjured the devil, Eldridge spoke at his side.

“Good eve, my lord cousin. I see luck is with my aunt this eve. ‘Tis unfortunate that it shall cause still more tittle-tattle to be all over town on the morrow.” When the baron did not reply he took a pinch of snuff. “At least Daphne Stratton is not at the table.”

Richard eyed him haughtily.

“I know you didn’t cheat her brother out of his guineas. Any one who watches Stratton for even a short time must realize that he has a great propensity for losing.”

“Get the scandal mongers to print that,” Richard said tersely.

“It would be questioned coming from a family member, don’t you see. They’d say both of us were trying to ruin the Strattons.” Eldridge trilled a laugh. “Oh dear, they say that already.”

Richard ignored him and walked to his mother. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he leaned over and asked if she were ready to take her leave.

His mother patted his cheek and ignored his question. “Dremore, you should be dancing.”

“It is very late, mother. I insist on seeing you home.”

Lady Laurissa glanced up. “How like your father you are at times,” she said dryly. She played a card. “But I must give these ladies a chance to recoup their losses.”

A murmur of agreement went around the table.

“Do find Miss Stratton,” the baroness told him. “She is so looking forward to the dance you promised.”

Around the table three pairs of eyes bore into Richard. His mother, he decided, would have made a formidable general.
Had she contrived this? Or had Miss Stratton
. Either way, if he did not dance with the young woman the tempest brewing could easily tip into scandal.

“When I return,” he began.

“Of course dear boy, of course,” his mother agreed. “I shall be ready to depart then.”

Outflanked, Richard strode out of the card room. He hoped Miss Stratton had already taken her leave. He returned to the music room. His scan of the dancers proved unsuccessful. A quick check of those strolling about the outer perimeter of the room and a further one of those seated in clusters chatting revealed no sign of Daphne. A deflated triumph stirred in his breast. With a grim smile, he turned on his heel and hurried back into the corridor and straight into the young woman.

“Lord Dremore,” exclaimed Daphne upon his hurried apology. “Must you always come upon one at full tilt?”

“I cannot blame the darkness for not seeing you this time.”

“Nor can you claim that a phantom propelled you into me,” she jested in return.

“As you say.” Richard bowed formally. “I have come to claim my dance.” He rather enjoyed the colour that flared to her cheeks. “Mother told me you looked forward to a dance with me.”

“She never—”

“She most certainly did. Before witnesses,” he added, his mien now serious.

“It is patently untrue,” Daphne said adamantly. She studied him.

“That we shall dance or that you looked forward to it?”

“Neither.” Daphne glared at his handsome features. Her heart somersaulted beneath his gaze, suddenly teasing. Temptation beckoned. “If there were witnesses to the conversation— Well, I suppose we have no choice.”

“We always have a choice, Miss Stratton. The wisest in the present circumstance is to dance.”

“That is quite easy for you to say,” she tossed back.

“With one another,” he added and offered his arm. “A new set is forming.” When Daphne reluctantly placed her hand on his arm a thrill coursed through the baron.

Richard could not take his eyes from Daphne as they walked to the dance floor. When she met his gaze, he couldn’t help but stare at her lips. Soft. Sweet.

Only Daphne’s unladylike nudge prevented him from missing the first step. Richard turned his attention to the dance. Each time they turned or passed, her scent taunted him.

A moment later he spied his cousin enter the room. When he glanced at his partner he saw Daphne smile. Was it for Blanchard? Looking back to his cousin he saw the man nod and wink. A chill scampered down his spin.
Were they in collusion
?

“Do you know my cousin well, Miss Stratton?” he asked. At least his voice wasn’t as strangled as his thoughts.

Daphne looked at him, then lowered her gaze. “He has been very kind to my brother.”

”And to you?” He watched Daphne’s gaze snap back to his.

“There has been no hint of impropriety in his behaviour.”

“I didn’t suggest there was,” Richard shot back. “What of yours?”

“You insult, my lord.”

The steps of the dance separated them. When they came back together Daphne acknowledged Richard’s presence only as a mannequin for the dance. When it ended she curtsied.

Eldridge appeared at her side. Daphne accepted his arm.

 * * * *

Much later that evening, Daphne sat in her bed studying the verse she had memorized and then written down on return to Clandon House after her adventure at the cemetery. “
Ink, quill, chamber, tale to tell
,” she muttered. “Tell me your tale,” she begged. “Please tell it.”

The words coalesced into a drawing of Lord Dremore. “Richard,” she murmured. The sound of his given name startled her. When had she begun thinking of him on terms of such intimacy?

Lying back on her pillow, Daphne closed her eyes; turned her thoughts back to the puzzle. “What kind of a chamber would have ink and quill?” Instead of an answer she saw a ballroom. In the centre awaiting her stood Richard. Shaking the image away she returned to her question.

“An office. A study. But would either have a tale to tell? Of sorts I suppose,” she answered herself.

Daphne recited the verse aloud, then contemplated the words. “Entertainment. Tales. Chamber.” Sitting up, she said, “Library!” The next moment her excitement ebbed away.

“Where is this library? Whose?”

“
Of feast grand and laurel plenty
,” she mused. “Laurel plenty.” Daphne sank back against her pillow. “The only family I know of that has laurel in their crest is— Dear Lord, not Dremore’s library?”

Perhaps ‘tis the one at Heart Hav
en, she speculated.

Daphne reread the first line. “
By houses crowded
. That can’t be Heart Haven or any of his other estates.”

His townhouse here in London
.

She considered the houses in Mayfair Square. “Certainly crowded compared to the area around Heart Haven.” Even as she said it, certainty grew that in Richard’s townhouse she would find the library mentioned in the verse.

Laying the paper aside and blowing out her candle, Daphne tried to sleep.
Eldridge Blanchard is not a bad sort
, she argued trying to convince herself.
He was kind to rescue me from his cousin this eve. He has offered assistance—many times
. Daphne sighed.

His aura says otherwise. But what of Richard’s aura? If only I could see his
.

“An end to this foolish infatuation with Richard . The cousin is more the gentleman,” she told the darkness.

His aura challenges that
, Reason returned.

“Auras,” Daphne sighed, half asleep. “I never saw Father’s or Mother’s. Saddie’s neither.” She yawned widely.
Why
? Before she reached any conclusion Daphne fell fast asleep.

Daphne ran a finger up one side of the feathered quill and down the other. She flicked the feather tip against her chin and sighed. How was she to go about asking a gentleman who was no relation for help? Especially one whose aura urged her to distrust him.

“Mr. Blanchard has oft said that he will do
anything
,” she murmured. She twirled the nub of the quill between her fingers. “Anything.” Worrying her bottom lip, Daphne laid down the quill and put her palms against her cheeks.

She closed her eyes.
I loath abusing a gentleman’s trust, even one I cannot like
. Her thoughts flicked to Richard.
There is always the exception
. Daphne went back to Mr. Blanchard.

He convinced Geoff to come home at a decent hour of late. I even heard him argue with Geoff about the gaming hells
.

She moved the heels of her palms to her forehead and pressed it against them. “I cannot use Mr. Blanchard to try to cheat his cousin out of the Dremore Treasure.”

But you must do so to solve the puzzle. At least to make the attempt to solve it
, argued Curiosity and Need.

Lowering her hands, Daphne stared blankly, consumed by the memory of what occurred within the mausoleum at Biddleage. A hint of a smile began to curve her lips.

“It was breathtaking when we realized what the dryads where. When we found the second verse . . .” The euphoria of that moment widened Daphne’s smile; increased her longing to test her mettle again. “I do want to see if I can solve it.”

She thought about the small amount of money that remained from Sir Joshua’s loan. Even with careful husbanding it could not last. Daphne sighed. Until Geoffrey was free of debt she dare not take an easy breath. “I must solve the clue. I must.”

She bolted out of the chair and paced restlessly. “Who else would know the interior of Dremore House?” She pursed her lips. “Who would not think it odd that I ask about it?”

Besides Mr. Blanchard, is there any one I know who would know
? She halted before the window in her chamber. Dark grey clouds hung low. “’Tis about to rain—” Daphne began and paused at the niggling of a memory. “Rain?”

She bit her lip; stilled her mind. The memory of Richard holding the umbrella over her as they bickered their way to the front door the day she visited Sir Overton came to her. Daphne turned from the window.