Never to Part (2 page)

Miss Stratton
. He unknowingly half smiled as he pictured her delicate oval face and extraordinary blue eyes.
This eve I shall gain permission to use your given name
. Richard’s smile broadened.
Daphne
.

Would she wear her neat braid of rich brunette neatly coiled at the nape of her neck or adopt a more frivolous style for the party? A feathering of wayward curls about her face, golden highlights shimmering amidst the coffee brown tresses would prove irresistible.
Such beautiful hair,
Richard mentally mused.
Such kissable lips. I cannot regret that I dared more than kissing her hand when we strolled alone in the gardens yesterday
. Richard sighed.

For all her beauty she is the kindest creature I have ever met
. He could not forget that Miss Stratton, a stranger among his friends and neighbours, had leaped to prevent his mother any embarrassment when he tried to deflect Lady Dremore’s too-enthusiastic telling of the Dremore Legend.

That was the moment she ensnared my heart.

Only that brief mysterious aura’s appearance across the portrait and the startled, unhappy look on Daphne’s face when it happened marred his thoughts. Richard still did not dare ask what Miss Stratton had seen in the portrait that disturbed her.

She’ll think me as mad as my mother if I ask if she saw an aura,
he mused while he sought some way to ask just that. A solution belled into clarity.
Why yes, I shall just enquire if anything about the portrait disturbs her
.

Intent upon doing so at once, Richard blurted, “Blanchard, I really must mingle with my other guests.”

“But you did not answer my question,” Eldridge objected.

Guilt at his inattention over-rode irritation. “What question?” Richard asked. Instead of an answer he saw Eldridge nod at someone behind him. When Richard tried to turn to see who it was, his cousin tightened his hold.

“Yes?” the baron asked tightly.

“’Tis nothing that can’t wait for another time,” Eldridge said smoothly and released Richard’s arm. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

With a nod made curt by impatience and his disbelief in his cousin’s sudden unusual politeness, Richard stalked away. He barely caught Eldridge’s quiet quip behind him.

“Miss Stratton awaits your discovery, cousin.”

Eager to find the young lady, he ignored a ripple of unease. Casting thoughts of his unpleasant cousin from him Richard visited easily with his guests while he looked for Miss Stratton.

Making his way to the main corridor he glanced into the card room. His mother happily played whist with old friends. Satisfied all was well the baron smiled in anticipation as he continued his search. A sudden surge of laughter from the Rose Salon drew him toward it.

Outside the door the sound of his mother’s voice startled Richard.
What the devil?
No, he decided,
but ‘tis very like hers
. Unease jittered in his stomach.

“Ricman Blanchard,” intoned the pseudo-voice.

Richard halted just inside the Rose Salon’s open doors. He saw a large number of guests seated facing the fireplace. Miss Stratton stood before it, her back to them.

“Appear as I command.”

Unaccountably a wave of dread swept through Richard; froze him in place.
She mimicks Mother
?!

“Do as I bid. Tell me where the brooch is hidden,” Daphne continued.

Confusion roiled through Richard.
Why is she doing this?
When Daphne continued a swell of bitter betrayal replaced his confusion.
This from the woman I thought kind? The woman I thought I cared for a great deal? That I contemplated asking
—

How great a fool I have been. Bloody hell, I knew she was a Stratton
.

A young woman, a family friend, joined him. She whispered, “I tried to dissuade Miss Stratton. Do not be too angry, she is but a green country girl and doesn’t—”

Shrugging away Richard pushed his way through the seated guests and up to Daphne. “My mother has been nothing but kindness to you, Miss Stratton,” he snarled. “This is how you reward her?” Richard waited, hoping beyond hope that Miss Stratton would explain; would give him reason to pause. Then he noticed the glassy cast to her eyes; heard a halting twitter escape through the lopsided twist of her lips.

His last hope disappeared like a stone skipped across the water sinks.
She is foxed! How could I have erred so greatly
, Richard wondered as pain, sharp and unbearable, wrenched his heart. Richard drew upon the protection of hauteur’s shield.

“Be at the servants’ entrance of Heart Haven at seven on the morrow’s morn. A carter shall take you to the crossing for the coach to Chesham. Do not miss it.”

Baroness Dremore pursed her lips as she waited for her son in the Rose Salon. Knowing him well, she knew he would be dismayed by her summons to this particular room. It held memories he had done his best to escape in the weeks since the soiree. He would come with reluctance but he would come.

He thinks I do not know about that kiss in the garden. Nor that I know just how strongly his attachment was for Miss Stratton before that unhappy evening.

Lady Laurissa shook her head. It had proven a close run thing but she had halted any and all gossip about Miss Stratton that evening by threatening the young ladies involved with revelations of their behaviour to their parents as well as society. She contemplated her hands. If only her stubborn son would listen to the truth of that evening.

Hearing the salon’s door open, Lady Laurissa stole a long look at her son from beneath lowered lashes. The dear boy has been so unhappy. In a deep brown study ever since the house party last month. All because of a silly misunderstanding about Miss Stratton. Why doesn’t he seek answers? Who but Eldridge had cause to fall into the dismals if Richard wed?

She watched Richard impatiently stalk to the fireplace. It was clear his thoughts were elsewhere.

How to prove to him the truth about Miss Stratton’s character? she wondered. Sadly Richard is more stubborn than my Dremore ever was.

“We should be getting home,” Richard said sharply.

The laurel brooch the baroness fingered in the folds of her skirt warmed perceptibly while she gazed at her son. “I never should have done it,” she murmured.

“You couldn’t know what her character would prove to be when you invited her,” he said curtly.

The baroness’ hopes perked up at this unusual verbal indiscretion. It was clear Miss Stratton was the object of his thoughts. But she twitted gently, “Of whom do you speak?” Lady Laurissa returned Richard’s piercing glare with one she hoped showed only innocence.

“What should you not have done?” he asked.

With an inward sigh Lady Laurissa decided she would get no more from baiting him. Better to plant a seed than continue trenching. “’Tis more something I regret.”

“Mother?”

The dowager sighed. “I unwisely chose to have an intimate coze with Miss Stratton during her visit. More than one actually,” she added at the lift of one of her son’s eyebrows. “I told her the family legend. Yes, I know you believe I tell it to everyone,” Lady Laurissa cut short the words her son would speak otherwise. “But I told it in much greater detail than I generally do and with explanations that may enable her to solve the first clue.

“I know it was rash,” she added with false apology. “I did so because I saw the twined hearts brooch in the portrait on the first baroness’ gown glow when we stood before it. I am certain Miss Stratton did also.” Lady Laurissa paused.

Richard cringed at her exaggerated sigh.

He need not know this is true only if she is intelligent enough to fully believe the tale. If only Richard would also do so. “She believes there is treasure to be found,” the baroness murmured.

“I doubt Miss Stratton will waste time on such a fruitless venture. Especially since there is not a single clue in that verse you recited,” Richard snorted.

“But what if she does take an interest? What if by some chance she ferrets a meaning where no one else has?” The laurel brooch vibrated in the baroness’ hold. Heartened by such a sign, Lady Laurissa insisted, “It would prove disastrous to have someone outside the family find the treasure.”

“You have very little to fear on that head,” Richard told her. He offered a hand to help his mother rise.

A very soulful expression worried across Lady Laurissa’s features. “Then you will call on Miss Stratton? See what she has been up to in London?” She saw suspicion flare across his features.

“How do you know she is in the City?”

Ignoring his tone, she said, “We are scarce a day’s ride from it. I do receive guests other than my son. Guests who are willing to gossip.” She patted the cushion beside her. “I have heard rumours that her brother has been gambling quite recklessly of late.”

Richard ignored the gesture. “He loses nightly,” he said, his tone condemning the young man. His mother’s arched brows told him he had erred; had sparked her interest. It wouldn’t do to have her find out he had tried, unsuccessfully, to throw a win Stratton’s way. “Men also gossip.”

“So ‘tis true. How badly dipped is he?”

“Mother,” he reproved her choice of words.

“Cant is not just a man’s preserve,” Lady Laurissa said with hauteur. “Does Miss Stratton indeed have reason to search for the treasure?”

“I’m not on intimate terms with Geoffrey Stratton.”

The baroness met his gaze. She meant to wait until he spoke but a bout of coughing spoiled the effect.

Richard sat beside his mother and pressed his handkerchief into her hand. “Why do you insist upon spending time in Heart Haven? This old place is too damp for you,” he scolded.

Dabbing at her lips the baroness drew in a slow halting breath. “Miss Stratton?” she half-croaked.

“If you will come home with me this instant I shall look into the matter for you.”

The baroness motioned for her son to help her stand. “Both the matter of Stratton’s debt and his sister’s activities?”

The strength returning in her voice reassured Richard. Her tenacity on the subject gifted him with a bargaining chip. “Let us both go to London. You can visit Mr. Slocum in Harley Street to make certain this cough is nothing. After you do so I shall do as you bid in regard to the Stratton’s.”

“’Tis only a cough, dear boy. A mere nuisance. I have no need of a physician,” the baroness assured him. To prove it she released his arm.

“I have no need to inquire about the activities of the Stratton’s,” he countered

“
Touché
,” the baroness answered. “We have a bargain.”
Now
, she thought,
if only my letter to Miss Stratton has set her mind at ease and opened her heart for forgiveness
.

 * * * *

“A coach is halting before our door, Miss Daphne,” the young woman’s companion called up the stairs. “’Tis surely your brother returned at last.”

Miss Stratton laid aside the bed sheet she was mending and hurried from the sitting room. She tripped lightly down the stairs. “If only you are right, Saddie,” Daphne told the thin older woman, a distant cousin who had been her mother’s companion. Technically she was now Daphne’s but had also taken over other duties as necessary economies forced the young woman to let staff go.

Back at the window, Saddie McRae said, “’Tis Master Geoffrey, Miss Daphne. Oh, dear, he looks the worse for wear.”

Foxed yet again?
Daphne’s stomach roiled.
We shall be in the suds if I do not do something soon.
She braced for a confrontation, then slowly opened the door. Daphne watched her brother stagger clumsily up the steps. She peered sharply at the departing coach but failed to see any clue of its owner’s identity.

“Daph, old thing,” Geoffrey Stratton slurred. He latched hold of the lintel to steady himself. “No welcome for your brother?”

The last few days Daphne had grown desperate. She had to learn who led Geoffrey on this dance to perdition. It endangered not only their home but also their very way of life. “Whose coach was that?”

Geoffrey snorted and pushed away from the lintel. He tried to take a step but stumbled.

Daphne snatched an arm about his waist to keep him from falling. The sickening brew of stale sweat, strong spirits, cigars, and cheap perfume assaulted her. Clamping her tongue behind her lips she herded her brother into the house.

Saddie hurried to Geoffrey’s other side. Together the women propelled him into the library. There they unceremoniously dropped him into a worn leather chair.

“Please fetch some coffee, Saddie,” Daphne requested. She stared down at her brother.

Oh, Geoff, what has become of you?
For a moment she remembered the bright-eyed eager young man he had been before they came to London; before the debacle at Baron Dremore’s country house party. The mere thought of that catastrophe wrenched her; proved to her once again that a heart shatters, not in a moment, but bit by bit.

Geoffrey's dull blood-shot bleary eyes met hers.

The emptiness in them sent a shudder through Daphne. With an effort she willed back the ache that knotted her stomach.

Geoffrey plopped his head back against the chair. He closed his eyes. When he opened them Daphne saw bitterness, watched it turn into spleen.

“You’ve done us in, Daph,” he moaned.

She flicked a glance at his desk and the stacks of duns she had sorted out that morning. She knew it impossible for them to pay all those merchants’ bills. “I?” she snapped indignantly.

“You’re the one who kicked against the traces. Ruined ever’thin’.” He glared at her. “Dremore’d gotten leg shackled to you if you hadn’t been such a stupid chit. We’d a ben sittin’ high. But you had to go and flaunt your
talent
,” Geoffrey snarled.

Anger fizzled into shame. Daphne’s cheeks burned. The kiss she had shared with Richard in the garden, his words upon that and other occasions attested to the truth of Geoffrey’s accusation. Then confusion reared its head.