She would be long gone across the sea and he would be alone in Hedingham Manor, feelings unspoken, confessions unmade. He took her hand and drew her back to the table.
“Please, wait for me here,” he said as he pulled her chair out for her. After a moment of hesitation, she did as she was asked, but her face still betrayed her concern.
“I promise that I will do nothing to upset him, Daphne. I am just looking for some clarity from his point of view.”
“Okay,” she conceded with a sigh.
“Oh, and by the way, Daphne, I am expecting that another guest will be arriving shortly. They travelled with me but arranged to come here via the Manor.”
She gave him a quizzical look but nodded. Moving to fill her teacup again, she settled in to wait for his return.
With a smile, Benedict left her to contemplate in the drawing room whilst he ventured back upstairs and down the hallway once more.
He could hear humming beyond Walter’s door. Though the hour was growing late, it appeared the man was too excited to sleep. Benedict fumed internally, for of course the old man was happy: he had got his way, never mind that it was to the detriment of his own daughter, and that he had entangled Benedict’s own mother into his schemes.
Benedict knocked firmly upon the door and heard the man behind it pause in response. He muttered something unintelligible before it finally opened. Walter was dressed in his night clothes, though he did not look as though he had been resting. Peering over his shoulder, Benedict noted that his old maps of the West Indies had been retrieved from their own resting places only to make a reappearance on his desk.
“Benedict! What a surprise. When did you arrive?”
He did not smile. “A short time ago. I wondered if I might have a word with you?”
Walter glanced over his shoulder at the maps, then out and down the hall. “The hour is growing quite late, my friend. Could it not wait until the morning?”
“No.”
Walter frowned. “Alright then. Well, come in, I suppose.”
Benedict shut the door behind him and wasted no time. “Daphne will not be immigrating to the West Indies.”
“Pardon?”
“And you,” he continued, advancing on Walter, “will not marry my mother.”
Walter backed down at once, his face contorting in shock.
“There will be no more hair-brained schemes, Walter. It is high time you stop carrying on like a dandy half your age and learned to settle. You have lived an incredible life over the years and I am sure that you have enjoyed a large part of that life. But your daughter needs you, your sons need you. My mother, however, does not need you, and you do not need her.”
“Benedict, what is the meaning of –“
He silenced him with a wave of his hand. “Enough is enough, Walter. My good man, let this be. It is time for you to move on, move forward to your next chapter.”
“My next chapter?”
“Yes. Retire, Walter. Retire from this life of scandal and destruction and live out your days in comfort and peace. I have arranged for a permanent housekeeper to attend to you, since Matilda is departing in the morning.”
“I do not need a housekeeper!”
“Yes, you do,” Benedict said, his patience waning. “You need someone to keep the house for you, to tend to your sons, to take care of you.”
Walter huffed like a child and folded his arms over his chest. “What did your mother have to say about this?”
“I have spoken to my mother as well, and successfully managed to have her see sense. I can assure you that she did not take much convincing at all. Surely you know that an arrangement between the two of you would never have worked. You are two very different people who would have eventually made each other very unhappy. Your relationship is better off as neighbours as friends. You both know this.”
Just then, there was another knock at the door. After a pause, Benedict crossed to open it. There stood Daphne, a genuine smile upon her beautiful face, and behind her was the new woman.
“Wonderful timing, my dear,” Benedict said to Daphne. He took a step back and allowed the women to enter. “Walter, this is Grace Cobb. She travelled to Essex from London with me. She is to be your new housekeeper and will be staying on you with you in perpetuity.”
Walter’s demeanour shifted then as he took in the woman before him. Grace was every bit her name from her city-trained mannerisms to her speech. She was also much closer in age to Walter than Roberta had been, which Benedict had liked particularly well, since she would have the authority to temper Walter’s wild ideas.
Grace curtsied to her new employer. “I am very pleased to meet you at last, Mr. Blanton. I am hoping that our time together will be happy and productive.”
“Well…well, this is…alright,” the old man stuttered. He tore his gaze from Grace to Benedict. “You are right, my good man. I allowed myself to be too swept away in all of the excitement. Daphne, I am sorry for the role I played in pushing you to leave. It was not right.”
His daughter went to him, placing her hands in his. “I forgive you, father.” Then she turned to Benedict. “We are all going to be just fine from this point forward.”
His work here was done. Daphne was staying by his side, and the two had finally confessed their love. Walter would not be marrying his mother, saving them both the misery of that mistake. The Blanton household would host a fine new housekeeper whom would keep Walter in check and the boys taken care of. As the sun finally left the sky and the moon began its nightly ascent, Benedict breathed a contented sigh.
Chapter 15
Hedingham Estate
Daphne spurred Charlton to a trot, following Benedict and Alexander down the hill toward the lake. The day was beautiful and bright with a sky full of pulled-cotton clouds that cast lovely, dappled shadows over the property. They passed the lake today, opting for the shade of the garden over the muddy bank. Benedict pulled his black stallion to a halt and dismounted, then turned to assist Daphne down from the gentle brown.
She loved the feeling of his arms around her. As they had spent more and more time together during their courtship, she knew already that she would never tire of his company. This next step had been right. She realised that the piece she had been missing all along was not a piece at all, but a question.
Benedict had answered it when he had surprised her in her room and told her not to leave. To think that all along, for so many years, she had thought her love had been unrequited. Everything seemed new and fresh now, like the flowers of spring. Daphne wove her arm through Benedict’s as they walked, her other hand trailing the delicate petals.
“I am glad,” she began, “that everything we have endured has brought us to this point.”
He smiled at her. “As am I, darling Daphne.”
“As is our custom, I find myself indebted to you once more,” she went as they circled under the shade of a hulking oak at the garden’s edge. “Not only did you stop me from making the most foolish decision of my life, but you stopped my father from making one as well.”
“I realised that what your father needed was not another wife, but a housekeeper.”
Daphne sighed. “How right you were. Already Grace has lifted his spirits more than I have ever seen them. She is a marvellous help, naturally. But more importantly, I think they find one another’s company to be stimulating. He is more energised; when she is not occupied with her tasks, he is constantly pestering her to walk with him.”
“Pestering?”
She laughs. “Perhaps the wrong choice of word, for Grace always seems more flattered than bothered. Again, your ability to determine one’s character is astounding.”
They made their way over to one of the fountains. The sound of the musical water was soothing, and it was cooler on this side of the garden. The two sat on the edge of the stone. Daphne swirled her fingers through the water before Benedict’s hand joined hers. She held it beneath the surface, watching how their palms insta
ntly melted together.
“Have you received word from your mother?”
Benedict nodded. “She sent a letter this morning. As we expected, she will be staying on in London. She said that she had spent so much time away from society that she had forgotten what she was missing. She is still attending and hosting parties, and thoroughly enjoying herself.”
“She is not at all distressed over my father ending their courtship?”
Benedict brought their hands back into the sun, still connected. “I would hardly describe her as heartbroken. I doubt she is even remotely upset, but please don’t relay that to your father. It might be a bruise to his ego.”
“With Grace around, I don’t think my father would be altogether too bothered.”
Benedict laughed. “Then all is well.”
She leaned into his shoulder, soaking up the sun and the company. A wren flitted about the grass in front of them, putting on a brief but dazzling show before disappearing over the hedges.
“What of Roberta?” Benedict asked. “Was there any word on how that saga unfolded?”
Daphne shrugged with a sigh. “She received the annulment my father finally sent off.” She pauses to chuckle for a moment. “Goodness, how I wish I could have been there to witness her expression. All her talk of ending things and at its conclusion, it was my father who made it official.”
“Poetic justice,” Benedict agreed. “What about that Baron Townsend character?”
“Last I heard, and this was relayed to me in my correspondence with Lady Fairbank, he decided not to marry her after all. He called off their engagement in a rather public setting. Apparently, it was quite the scandal. Her Ladyship was thoroughly entertained by it all.”
Benedict laughed along with her. “We cannot say that she did not deserve it.”
“We certainly cannot. Last anyone heard, she has set sail for America.” She nudged Benedict in his ribs. “It isn’t quite the West Indies, but I’m sure that even Roberta can manage to carve out a life across the sea.”
“Good riddance, I say. The further she is from you and your family, the better.”
Daphne grinned. “When I told Jasper and Lionel, they pushed to throw a celebratory soiree. They even went ahead with the planning and got so far as the guest list before Grace caught wind of it. She convinced them to have a dinner instead.”
Her brothers loved the new housekeeper. Each day Grace had spent in the house was another day the boys seemed to have grown up. Already they were becoming taller than Daphne, such strong young men. Their father was immensely proud, and Daphne was relieved that the three were beginning to form a new relationship.
Mr. Blanton had been rather neglectful of his sons for so long, and especially having been away in London for a while, she had worried after their welfare. But they had taken their solitude in stride and had used the time productively. Daphne was now sure that they would grow into fine young gentlemen.
“Did Lady Fairbank share any news of her son?” Benedict asked.
Daphne’s hand flew to her mouth as she realised she had not yet shared the juiciest piece of gossip. “Oh, how could I have forgotten! I was too caught up in the news of Roberta to tell you. The Captain has announced his engagement to Lady Parker.”
“To Winnifred?”
Daphne echoed his surprise. “The very same.”
“Well, that is certainly a turn of events,” Benedict muttered. “I wish the Captain well.”
“I think they will be alright,” Daphne replied. “The Captain is a simple man with simple wants, and a marriage into the Parker family will be most advantageous for himself and his mother. He is doting, and we know that dear Winnifred is very fond of attention. Honestly, I could not think of a better match for either of them.”
Benedict considered this for a moment, but eventually had to agree with her. Daphne knew that his previous reservations towards his old schoolfriend had changed. The unofficial dinner party they had held at the Gildons’ London home had been eye opening in a lot of ways. It was only after they had made their peace that Benedict had relayed to her the true nature of his conversation with Lady Parker that evening. She had entirely misconstrued the scenario and found that all she could do was laugh at her inaccuracy.
That would have been the first time that Captain Fairbank and Lady Parker would have met. After all that had transpired, it appeared that it was a night of revelations for everyone.
Benedict rose and extended his arm to her. She took it instantly and the two travelled back through the gardens, taking their time as they strolled the pathways and took in the beauty of the blooming flowers.
“In the end,” Daphne said after a while, “everything has returned to normal.”
“In a way.” Benedict walked them adjacent to the hedges that would lead them back to the horses. They kept winding through the garden, entertaining themselves with idle chatter until finally they crossed over the hedge line and into a bright purple garden. Everywhere around her, lavender stalks raised their spindles to the sky, waving in the gentle breeze and filling the air with their sweet perfume.
Daphne’s eyes widened and she turned to Benedict. “When was this garden planted?”
“Recently,” he replied with a smirk. “I know that lavender is one of your favourite scents, and the purple is such a contrast to your beautiful eyes. I commissioned this garden to be created in your honour.”
She brought her hands to her lips, spinning to take in the sight of the seat of flowers again.
“You may use this garden whenever you wish. I have installed a bench at its centre beneath that canopy.” He pointed across the way to the trellis at the gardens centre. Without a word, Daphne raced toward it, weaving through the stalks and laughing like a mad thing. She felt like a child again, in ecstasy over the idea that this was her garden.
She reached the trellis, which was woven through with more purple flowers: wisteria, which had created a beautiful arch of shade. When Benedict finally caught up to her, she threw her arms around him.
“Oh, Benedict! This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Is it truly mine?”
“Of course it is,” he replied with a smile. He released her, taking a step away to allow her some space to take in the splendour around them. “I would do anything to see the light shine in your eyes. Which is why…”
Daphne’s heart trembled as she watched the man she loved lower himself onto one knee.
“Daphne. Nobody is more kind, compassion, considerate or loving than you. From the moment I first met you, I was drawn to you. Not just to your beauty, but to your heart. As we have grown over the years, we have opened our souls to one another. I am convinced that there is not a person alive who knows me as you do, and there is no other person on earth who could ever take your place. If there is one thing I can promise you, it is that nobody could ever love you like I love you.” He paused, teasing out the moment before breaking into a smile. “So, Daphne Blanton, would you do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage?”
Daphne’s hands were at her cheeks, which were stinging from smiling as hard as she was. Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded wordlessly. What was she to say? Was this truly happening? This had become the best day of her entire life. After all this time searching, all this time wasting away with fear and being consistently disappointed, being riddled with anxiety, it had brought her here, to the arms of the man she had loved for as long as she could remember.
Once Upon a Dreamy Match: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 20
