“You know my terms.” Then he inclined his head. “Did you know that when the sun catches your blonde hair, you look quite angelic, as though you wear a halo?”
“I can assure you, Sir Dalton, I am no angel.” She couldn’t help but snicker at his absurd statement. “So you wish me to dine with you? Simple enough—”
“Unchaperoned.” He grinned, and his dimples all but beckoned her to accept his request.
“Are you planning to make advances?” She bit her tongue against further spontaneous conjecture.
“No.”
“Oh.”
“You sound disappointed.” He chortled.
“Well it would have been nice, not to mention flattering, if you had exhibited the tiniest bit of interest.” Her spirits flagged. “Then again, I am not sure I would have recognized it, if you had.”
“Is there no local dandy to pay call on a lovely woman, such as yourself?” To her delight, though she could not explain why his action thrilled her, he trailed a finger along the curve of her cheek. “And who says I am not interested?”
“Now you compliment me, but I am not fooled by your feigned blandishments.” She gazed at the horizon. “My cousin has expressed a desire to wed, but it is only because he seeks my father’s office and presumes I present the shortest path to that goal.”
“That does not speak well for the swains of Portsea Island.” Again, he scrutinized her, and she bore the weight of his attention as a sumptuous down counterpane. “Then it is safe to assume you remain unspoken for and are, therefore, unattached?”
“Yes.” Not entirely true, but she could pretend, if only for a few days.
“Then I insist you accept my invitation.” In play, he tapped the tip of her nose. “And I will brook no refusal.”
“Has any woman ever refused you anything?” Despite her earlier apprehension, she would give an untold bounty to know him better, to revel in the comfort and security of an estimable specimen of means and persist as his lady. Had she ever savored such stability and happiness more, in her lifetime? Then again, such men often eschewed monogamous relationships, as had her father, in regard to her mother, and Daphne would settle for nothing less.
“Not that I can recall.” The rake rocked on his heels, and in that simple gesture she discovered his lure. The boyish innocence coupled with the confidence of an elder proved a potent appeal, as he evaded her usual stalwart defenses.
“Then who am I to buck the popular trend?” They strolled to the door, and to her chagrin, she rued his departure, as he provided fortuitous distraction.
“Wonderful.” Now he steered her into the hall. “Since I have taken a suite at the inn, I shall book a private dining room for tomorrow night, at seven.”
“I look forward to it, Sir Dalton.” They paused in the foyer. “And what is the attire?”
“Formal, of course.” In the grand entry, he again brought her knuckles to his lips, but then he surprised her, when he flipped her hand and pressed a kiss to the inner side of her wrist. “Until next we meet, I would have you think of me with fondness.”
Daphne’s knees buckled. “I shall endeavor to fulfill your expectations and would bid you the same, of me.”
“No worries, angel.” He released her. “As scarcely a second will pass that you do not occupy my thoughts.”
His declaration, which she suspected was more facetious than serious, touched her more than she was willing to admit, to herself or anyone else. “My, what an elegant coach.”
“I summoned my traveling equipage from London, when I estimated the extent of the damage to the Siren.” A liveried footman leaped to open the door. With one last glance over his shoulder, Dalton saluted and said, “I shall send my rig to collect you, tomorrow.”
“And I will be ready.” With a light heart, she curtseyed and ran into the house. Giggling, she hugged herself. Then she jolted to reality, when it dawned on her that Dalton posed the greatest threat to her secrets and, thereby, her family. In a flash, Daphne glared at the landing and marched up the grand staircase. On the second floor, she veered left, navigated the passageway, and charged into the third room. “All right. Which one of you stole the brooch?”
“What brooch?” Robert, her nineteen-year-old brother, dropped a model ship to the floor and jumped to his feet. “I gave you my rucksack, and you know I took only some ham, cheese, and bread.”
Huddled on the carpet, Richard, the youngest, at ten and seven, lingered in uncharacteristic quiet. When he refused to meet her gaze, Daphne’s spirits plunged to heretofore-unimagined depths. Until that moment, until that very instant, she had clung to some scrap of hope that Dalton’s accusation had been unfounded, and her brother’s were innocent.
“Richard, where is the brooch?” She knelt at his side and took his hand in hers. “Please, you must give it to me. Whatever your reasons for taking it, the owner visited me, just now. It is a precious family heirloom. If I do not restore the item, posthaste, he will notify the King of father’s absence, and I cannot allow that.”
“But I thought we could sell it, to buy more food. And the captain had very fine things, so I thought he could spare it.” Richard lifted his chin and cast a watery stare. “I am always hungry.”
“What a stupid thing to do, and now we could all be exposed.” Robert folded his arms and huffed in unmasked disgust. “You should be spanked—”
“I know, darling.” With a sharp wave, she silenced Robert, given she could withstand anything but Richard’s tears, and she framed his cheeks to offer a modicum of comfort, as his intentions were honorable. “But we cannot save our family based on the misery and misfortune of another, and the brooch is not ours to barter. I promise, come what may, I will find a way to fill our pantry. Now, bring me the bauble.”
“What are you going to do with it?” Richard frowned. “If we are in trouble, then I am to blame, and I should face the consequences.”
“Worry not, little one.” When her youngest sibling jumped up and ran to his armoire, she stood. From one of his coat pockets, he produced the expensive piece of jewelry. “I will take care of it.”
“How?” With a furrowed brow, Robert appeared skeptical. “If you give it back, they will know we stole it.”
“Then I shall figure out a course of action to return it, with none the wiser.” In truth, Daphne had no idea how she would accomplish that feat, but she would not burden her brothers with that none too little snag. “I will see you at dinner.”
“What are we having?” Richard inquired, with a grimace. “Can we eat some of the ham and cheese, as I have had my fill of toast?”
“Yes, sweetheart.” Turning the ancient trinket in her palm, which fit Dalton’s description to the letter, she pondered the possibilities. “If we forgo lunch, or consume only mutton broth, we may indulge ourselves, tonight. And I have a bit of good news. I sold the furniture from the last guestroom, so I will purchase some chickens, which should provide eggs, on a regular basis.”
“What of father’s monthly stipend?” Robert shifted his weight. “Have you already spent it?”
“I used it to pay down some of the debt.” Yet it was nowhere near enough, and April could prove the most arduous challenge, to date. “Next I will broker a trade with Mr. Barker, for my cedar chest, as it should fetch a decent sum.”
“But grandmother left that to you, when she died.” Richard sniffed. “Are we to barter everything?”
“And have you considered my suggestion of securing a commission in the Army?” Raking his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit he had exhibited almost from infancy, Robert paced. “As I could earn steady pay and send home every penny, for you and Richard.”
“No, and I will not, as I refuse to risk your life to save mine.” And if she grew desperate, she could always cede the fight and marry their cousin. “I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to make such a sacrifice.”
“Would you rather we were condemned to the workhouses and you to debtor’s prison?” Her
oldest brother halted and smacked a fist to a palm. “Do you find that solution preferable, because I protest. And you may be the firstborn, but I am the man in this household.”
“Robert, I have never loved you more than I do now.” Daphne splayed wide her arms and flicked her fingers. Together, the three huddled. “But it will not come to that, I swear.”
“Well I will not permit you to wed cousin Harold.” Robert scowled, even as he hugged her. “That is a fate worse than death.”
“Thank you.” Perched on tiptoes, because Robert was much taller than her, she kissed her staunch protector’s cheek. “We will survive this difficult time, brothers. And we will be far stronger for having endured, integrity intact. Somehow, some way, we will persist—I must believe that. And if all else fails, there is always the odd chance that a grand knight in shining armor shall ride to our rescue.”
THE LUCKY ONE
CHAPTER TWO
How long had it been since a young woman had captured his interest with such uncontrollable ferocity? Given his potent response to the inimitable Miss Harcourt, and a night spent drifting amid a haze of lusty dreams, involving the singular blonde’s luscious body and judicious use of his tongue, it had been too long. In the oval mirror that hung on the wall, Dalton checked his appearance, straightened his cravat, and consulted his timepiece. Behind him, in the private dining room, a waiter lit the candles on the table and adjusted the silverware placement.
“Will that be all, sir?” the servant inquired.
“Yes, thank you.” Dalton buttoned his coat and pondered what he had learned of the Harcourts, just that morning. “We shall serve ourselves.”
“Very good, sir.” He bowed, opened the door, and almost trounced the guest of honor. “I beg your pardon, miss.”
“No, it is my fault.” The governor’s daughter blushed. “I should have knocked.”
“Come in, Miss Daphne.” The thrill of the hunt burned in his loins, as his prey, and she was his prey, though she knew it not, unbuttoned her pelisse, revealing a satin gown of deep burgundy. “Your timing is perfect. And may I take your wrap?”
“Yes, thank you.” With a shy smile, she shrugged from the garment. “Something smells delicious.”
“Are you hungry?” As he deposited the coat over the back of a daybed, he noted the outdated style and the threadbare edges of the cuffs. Upon closer inspection, he noticed her frock represented not the current fashion, and it looked a tad small, which emphasized her thin frame and piqued his already over-stimulated curiosity, where the woman was concerned. According to several townsfolk, the missing governor had amassed quite a bit of debt with various vendors, which might explain her humble clothes. “May I pour you some wine?”
“I am famished, and, yes, please do so.” When she neared the fantasy he had created just for her, her mouth fell agape, and she caressed a rosebud. “Are you celebrating something of importance, of which you neglected to apprise me?”
“Why do you ask?” Given most ladies rewarded his efforts with a kiss, which often led to more enticing scenarios, her surprise had him wondering if he had miscalculated. “And is our first dinner date not something to mark with a suitable ceremony?”
“Our first?” She blinked. “You wish to see me again, before this evening has commenced?”
“Of many, I hope.” He could not help but chuckle at her expression of utter astonishment. During Dalton’s brief investigation of her history, the locals imparted one exceptional statement with frequency. With an unblemished reputation, and a well-established penchant for benevolent enterprises, Daphne Harcourt manifested the backbone of the family and, indeed, her father’s office. No matter the situation, she could always be counted on to provide assistance, which was why most citizens sought her advice over the governor’s. It was that fact, alone, that had swayed him and set his course of action in an altogether different direction. “And why would I not favor your company? Do you think yourself unattractive?”
“I am unsure how to answer your query.” Daphne shrugged, and he realized, in that instant, she spoke the truth. Had he thought her fascinating? In light of her incredible beauty, which grew in epic proportions when contrasted by her staunch modesty, the woman was an enigma and far more arresting than any polished courtesan or uninspiring debutante. “And I have never studied myself in such detail, nor could I ever be considered an impartial critic, so I should refrain from a pointless self-assessment.”
“Spoken like a formidable paragon and an angel of mercy.” He held her chair, and she sat. “I might think you too good to be true.”
“But I told you yesterday that I am no angel.” She draped her lap with her napkin.
“That is not what the widow Cartwright says, or Mr. Holmes, who sang your praises for the better part of an hour.” After situating a covered dish before her, he lifted the lid. Then he claimed his plate and assumed his place. “They are grateful for the ham, cheese, potatoes, and bread.”
“Are you making a survey of me?” Fear invested her blue eyes, her face paled, and he cursed himself for frightening her, as that was not his aim. “It is no crime to feed those who cannot fend for themselves.”
“In that, we are in agreement, as yours was an admirable gesture, my dear.” And he had no doubt the food she shared constituted a portion of the pilfered contents from his stores. What he could not reconcile was the theft of the brooch by one of her brothers, whose existence he uncovered from the innkeeper. “I commend your sense of compassion and would make a contribution to your charity, if you tell me what you require.”
“Do you mean that?” With a tear-filled gaze and guileless desperation, Daphne humbled him, and he suspected she could be counted among the starving members of her community. “You would assist my cause?”
“Yes.” As Dalton cut his steak, he monitored her progress, and he needed no further proof of her condition, as she devoured her meal, while humming her appreciation of the fare. “If you would accompany me to the market, tomorrow afternoon, we might fill your pantry.”
“Oh, thank you. Thank you. I will compose a list, when I return home.” Then she stared at the carrots he had not consumed. “Are you going to eat those?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“May I?” For the umpteenth time, she stunned him, as most young women ate less than that essential to sustain a bird, when in the company of gentlemen, but she dined with unabashed gusto. Then and there, he vowed Daphne would never again suffer an empty belly.
“Be my guest.” He scooted his plate toward the center of the table. “But I would caution you to save room for the final course, as I selected a delicious assortment from the bakery.”
“You did?” A host of emotions invested her countenance, as she bounced with unmasked joy, and Dalton found her alluring beyond words. “I can’t remember the last time I partook of dessert.”
“I shall remember that, for future reference.” When he retrieved a platter of sweets and displayed the tempting variety, her eyes grew wide with unconcealed excitement, and a strange sensation filled his chest. “Have I made you happy?”
“Will you think me a simpleton if I admit as much?” How he adored her bashful grin.
“Not at all.” As he served her a generous sampling, he leaned near. “As I find you inexpressibly captivating.”
The poor thing choked violently on her wine, and he recalled his agenda for the night.
“Let me assure you that I am quite boring, sir.” With recovered grace and ease, she dabbed the corners of her mouth. “There is little excitement in Portsea, and I daresay our provincial society would disappoint one acquainted with the cosmopolitan ballrooms of the ton.”
“Present company excepted.” It was past due to initiate the interrogation. “So tell me of your younger brothers, and are they in residence?”
Stopping mid-chew, she swallowed hard. “How did you learn of my brothers?”
“As I said, from your neighbors.” He poured two brandies and passe
d her a glass of liquid courage. “Although they hold a rather vacillating opinion of—how did the butcher put it, oh, yes, ‘the two devil-spawn rapscallions.’”
“I resent that mischaracterization, as Robert and Richard are nothing more than young boys, struggling to find their identity.” With high dudgeon, she folded her arms. “Despite the brevity of our association, I am sure you engaged in your fair share of harmless mischief, at their age. And they are accused of everything, even when they are innocent.”
“And a great deal of not so harmless mayhem, most of which I blamed on my elder sibling, Dirk, so you have me there.” In order to impress upon her the gravity of the theft of the brooch, Dalton had brought the accompanying journal, which he hoped would foster sympathy for his plight. “I thought you might enjoy reading a bit of lore, regarding my missing family heirloom, as it possesses mystical powers and a vaunted past.”
“I beg your pardon.” She snapped to attention. “Mystical powers?”
“Indeed.” He nodded and handed her the leather-bound diary. “Read the opening inscription.”
“All right.” Daphne flipped to the first page. “The parchment has yellowed, with age, and the ink has faded. ‘Ye lady what dons this brooch of ethereal sight, shall enjoy unfettered dreams of her one true knight.’ How remarkable.”
“The entries describe what the brooch revealed to my ancestors, over the years.” While she perused the old tome, he availed himself of the opportunity to make an unfettered examination of her profile, which he found inexpressibly striking. “The most recent notation records a relationship between two people very near and dear to my heart.”
“Oh?” Ignoring the fact that he had moved his chair to sit beside her, she turned to the last item. “You know Lady Amanda Gascoigne-Lake?”
“She has persisted as Lady Amanda Douglas these twenty-eight years, and she and Admiral Douglas have two daughters, both wed and equally content.” He pointed to the conditions for inheritance of the unique piece of jewelry. “As Lady Amanda’s sister has no daughters, she intended to pass the brooch to Lady Cara, and that was my task, after I rendezvoused with George, Lady Olivia’s son, off the coast of Belgium.”
Brethren of the Coast Box Set 2 Page 62
