The Irresistible Rogue

by Valerie Bowman

  “Kissable?”

  Daphne let her head fall into her hands. She groaned again. “Lucy told you?”

  “Yes, but she swore me to secrecy, I promise.”

  Daphne pulled the pillow over her head and buried her face in it. “I’m ruined.”

  “You’re hardly ruined, dear. You drank a bit too much and ended up in a seemingly compromising position with a handsome gentleman, your husband, I might add, in the garden under the moonlight. Many a girl has done much worse. But I’m afraid you cannot blame Captain Cavendish for your behavior last night.”

  Daphne rubbed her forehead. “I know. It was all me. I’m the one who drank five glasses of champagne. I’m the one who jumped up on a bench. I’m the one who— Oh, I just wish Rafe had left when I asked him to. He refused, you know. If he hadn’t been there last night, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to fall on him and tumble about in the grass in front of Lord Fitzwell.”

  Cass laughed aloud at that. “It was an unfortunate incident, to be certain, dear, but I’ve never known you to be much for rules. If I remember correctly, aren’t you the same young lady who once tried to sneak out the window at the Hillboroughs’ ball?”

  Daphne lifted her eyes and blinked at her sister-in-law. “You remember that?”

  “I most certainly do. You never told me. Why were you trying to sneak out that night?”

  Daphne hung her head. “It’s too humiliating to tell.”

  “A midnight assignation?” Cass’s eyes sparkled.

  “Something like that.” Daphne sighed. “Actually, the truth is that I was sneaking out to see Rafe.”

  Cass’s blond eyebrow arched at that. “Is that so?”

  “Yes. That’s when word had just come about how hurt he was and I desperately wanted to see him and I—I intended to hire a hack and visit him. Oh, Cass, I’m so ashamed of myself.”

  Cass patted her hand again. “You’ve little to be ashamed of, Daphne. It seems to me you’re quite in love with Captain Cavendish and you happen to be conveniently married to him. I don’t see the problem.”

  “I am not in love with him!” The words were a bit too vehement even to her own ears.

  Cass gave her an understanding smile. “Aren’t you?”

  Daphne sniffed. “Maybe just a little, but I fully intend to rid myself of it. You don’t know what he’s done.”

  “Love is not like a cold, Daphne. You cannot wait for it to go away. It seems to me Lord Fitzwell did you a favor last night, leaving here.”

  Daphne groaned and flopped back against the pillows. “There I can agree with you. He obviously wasn’t right for me if a bit of champagne and some rule-breaking scared him off. Mother’s sure to be angry with me for making such a mess of things. After all of the work and planning you and she did for the party. I’m so sorry, Cass.”

  “On the contrary, I believe your mother was quite relieved to see Lord Fitzwell go. I know Aunt Willie was, and I can’t say I’m particularly displeased.”

  Daphne sat up again and searched her sister-in-law’s face. “You’re not?”

  “Admittedly, I didn’t know him well, but I don’t believe Lord Fitzwell ever had your heart, Daphne. Believe me when I tell you how important that is.”

  Daphne reached out and patted Cass’s hand. “Cass, you’re so sweet. You’ve loved Julian since you were a girl. But for most of us, it doesn’t happen that way. We must be methodical about finding a proper husband.”

  “Forgive me for disagreeing, but I don’t think ‘methodical’ and ‘husband’ should be in the same sentence.”

  Daphne gave her sister-in-law a resigned smile. “Then we shall agree to disagree. I must consult my list again. I put it up in the cabinet. Do you mind fetching it for me?”

  “What list?” Cass asked, her brow furrowed.

  “My list of eligible gentlemen.”

  Cass’s eyes went wide. “You made a list?”

  “Of course I did.”

  “See, even that? It’s not like you to be so … planned. So…” Shaking her head, Cass stood and made her way over to the cabinet.

  “Methodical?” Daphne offered with a small laugh.

  “Yes. You’ve always been so free-spirited and fun, Daphne. Finding the right man, your true love, shouldn’t be the equivalent of a business proposition.”

  “It’s just up on the top shelf,” Daphne said, completely ignoring her sister-in-law’s entreaties.

  Cass, being several inches taller than Daphne, was able to reach it without a chair. She put a hand on the shelf and felt about. She pulled out the stationery and the box with the ship replica came tumbling down. Cass caught the box but not before the lid flew off.

  “What’s this?” she asked, staring at the little ship.

  Daphne covered her face with her hands and groaned again. “That is my engagement present from Captain Cavendish.”

  “Your what?”

  “Rafe sent me an engagement present when he heard that I was soon to become engaged to Lord Fitzwell.”

  “A tiny ship?” Cass’s brow remained furrowed.

  “It’s a replica of the ship we were on for a fortnight together.”

  Cass brought the stationery and the ship and came back to sit next to Daphne again. “Daphne, dear. I do believe there is a story or two you haven’t told me. Start from the beginning, if you please.”

  Daphne closed her eyes, allowing the memories to come flooding back. “Captain Cavendish and I—Rafe—we spent two weeks on the True Love at the docks last spring.”

  “I had heard a rumor that you were missing for two weeks, dear, but I never credited it.”

  Daphne sighed. “I wasn’t missing. I knew exactly where I was the entire time. So did Donald. The story Mama and Donald told everyone was that I was visiting Aunt Willie, but obviously rumors spread regardless.”

  Cass patted her hand. “Go on.”

  “Donald wanted me to help Rafe. He allowed me to go with him, pose as his cabin boy. Interpret Russian.”

  “Did anything happen between you, dear? You and Captain Cavendish, I mean?”

  Daphne closed her eyes again. “Not for a lack of trying on my part.”

  “Oh, dear. You must tell me what that means.”

  Daphne shook her head. It was too embarrassing to tell. But she had to tell someone. She had to rid herself of it somehow. Perhaps Cass, kind, sweet, loving Cass, could help her sort all of this out.

  “I hired a hack and met Rafe at the docks. Donald knew about it, of course, but I wanted to be independent. We spent nearly two weeks on the ship. Two nights before we were to leave, I—” She covered her face again. She just couldn’t look at Cass while she said it.

  “Go, on, dear,” Cass prompted.

  “I … I … Oh, Cass, I tried to kiss him.”

  Cass’s eyes rounded even further if that were possible. “You did?”

  “Yes. I thought we’d been getting closer. I thought he had … developed feelings for me. And, after all, we were married and I … I made a complete fool of myself.”

  “Captain Cavendish didn’t kiss you back, I take it?” Cass asked.

  “No. He not only didn’t kiss me back, he told me he thought of me as a sister.”

  Cass grimaced. “No!”

  “Yes!”

  Cass shook her head softly. “Well, that is unfortunate.”

  “Two days later, I found a blond doxy in his bed at the inn and— Oh, that’s an entirely different story, but suffice it to say that Rafe never once acted inappropriately toward me during that entire fortnight.”

  “You can hardly blame the man for being a gentleman, darling. Though the sister comment is disturbing. I think I need to hear the story about this blond woman.”

  Daphne told her. The whole awful thing. When she was finished Cass gave her a sympathetic smile. “That doesn’t sound good, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t. It wasn’t and I—” Daphne slapped her palm to her forehead and groaned in pain. “Oh,
fiddle! Fiddle! Fiddle!”

  “What?” Cass touched a hand to her throat.

  Daphne squeezed her eyes shut and scowled. “I just remembered. I tried to kiss him again last night in the garden. He stepped away from me. That’s why I fell on top of him.”

  “You fell on top of him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because he moved away when you tried to kiss him?”

  “Yes. Oh, Cass, Lord Fitzwell was right to leave me. I am a shameless hussy. A harlot. A wanton.”

  Cass was obviously fighting a smile.

  “Don’t laugh at me, Cass,” Daphne said miserably.

  “I’m sorry, dear. Truly I am, but I think you’re far from a wanton for trying to kiss Captain Cavendish in the garden. You must remember, you are married, dear. You keep forgetting. And he may have stepped away from you last night but he kissed you in the library, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then. He may have had other reasons for stepping away last night.”

  “I know Julian threatened to murder him, but—”

  “What?”

  “Julian told me. He had two conditions for allowing me to go with Rafe tonight. The first is that I remain safe. The second is to not touch me.”

  “Well, no wonder. Captain Cavendish is trying to do the honorable thing. He wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if he kissed an intoxicated lady, would he? Not to mention he’d promised her brother to keep his hands to himself.”

  “But I don’t want him to keep his hands to himself,” Daphne groaned.

  A gasp sounded from the other side of the closed door and Cass turned wide eyes to Daphne.

  Daphne simply shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. I suspect it’s just Delilah. She has her ear pressed to the door.”

  “I do not!” came Delilah’s disgruntled voice.

  “You might as well come in, Dee,” Daphne called. “And please mind the door slamming. I have the devil of a head.”

  The door opened and Delilah, a huge white satin bow in her hair and a fresh white day dress on, came prancing in. She closed the door with extreme care. “Very well, I might have been listening, a little.”

  “I never doubted it,” Daphne replied.

  Delilah came to stand at the foot of the bed. “What does it feel like to have a devil of a head?”

  Daphne groaned again. “It’s dreadful and I hope you never find out.”

  “I’d have the devil of a head in an instant if it meant I would end up rolling about in the grass with Captain Cavendish.”

  Daphne’s jaw dropped. “Delilah, I swear, if you tell anyone—”

  “I know. I know. Don’t worry. I intend to remain entirely silent on the matter.”

  Daphne laid her head back against the pillows and rubbed her temples. A memory pushed itself through her hazy mind. “Did you tell Lord Fitzwell where to find me last night, Delilah?”

  Delilah had a foxlike smile on her face. “Perhaps.”

  “I thought you’d gone up to bed. How did you know?”

  “You cannot possibly think I would remain in bed with all of the interesting things happening in this house last night.”

  “What interesting things?” Daphne asked, pressing her fingertips to her temples.

  “Things like Lord Fitzwell finding you outside in the gardens with Captain Cavendish.”

  “But that only happened because you told him where I was. How did you know, by the way?”

  “I can’t be held responsible if I happened to help along the interesting things. And I knew because I was the one who pointed you in the direction of the gardens last night. Don’t you remember? You were singing a song I taught you. I knew Captain Cavendish was out there.”

  Daphne sat up straight and then groaned and rubbed her skull again. She’d moved far too quickly. “Delilah Montbank, tell me you did not orchestrate that entire set of madness that occurred last night.”

  Delilah put her hands on both hips. “Well, I like that. You’re welcome.”

  “You did it all on purpose?” Daphne groaned. “Why?”

  “Because Lord Fitzwell is not meant to be my cousin.”

  Daphne turned a pleading look toward Cass. “What do you think about this?”

  Cass shrugged. “I can’t say I blame her. And I’m quite impressed by her ingenuity.”

  Delilah beamed and executed a haphazard pirouette before bowing to Cass. “Merci, my lady.”

  “Did Aunt Willie know what you were about?” Daphne asked her cousin.

  “Oh, Cousin Daphne.” Delilah rolled her eyes. “Aunt Willie is the one who informed me that Captain Cavendish was in the gardens alone. Now, I had better get downstairs before Mrs. Upton eats all of the teacakes.” And with that, Delilah skipped back to the door and left.

  Daphne gave Cass a dejected look. “My entire family is plotting against me.”

  “It’s not as bad as all of that. I promise you,” Cass said. “I think you should just take the day and rest, dear. There’s no need to make any hasty decisions.”

  Daphne shook her head. “No. No. There’s no time to rest. Read me the list of eligibles, won’t you? I may have made a mess of things with Lord Fitzwell but he’s not the only gentleman in London.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Please, Cass. Read them. After I get back from the mission with Rafe, we’ll have another party. There will be another engagement. And by then I’ll have my annulment so all will be well.”

  “I swear. I’ve never known you to sit still for so much as a minute,” Cass replied. “Fine. I’ll read them to you. And after you pick your next potential bridegroom, what then?”

  “Then, I prepare for tonight. Rafe is coming for me after dinner. I must transform myself into a convincing cabin boy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Rafe rapped on the back door to the Swifdon house. He’d maneuvered his mount through the streets, around the mews, and through the alley behind the Earl of Swifdon’s Mayfair residence. No one would see Lady Daphne Swift leaving the house dressed as a boy.

  He’d left last night soon after Claringdon had escorted Daphne back inside. First, he’d found Swifdon in his study and informed him that his little sister was very much the worse for drink. He’d told Swifdon that he believed Lucy Hunt was ensuring that Daphne got tucked into bed without her mother being any the wiser. Swifdon had thanked him for his discretion, asked to speak with Lord Fitzwell privately, and told Rafe that he would send him a letter in the morning informing him of Daphne’s condition. Apparently, Swifdon knew of a concoction that was said to quickly cure a sick head. Good thing, because worse for drink or not, Rafe still desperately needed Daphne’s help.

  Later, Rafe had watched with an unabashed smile on his face as Lord Fitzwell ordered his coach and left the Swifts’ house, jamming his hat atop his head, and ripping his coat from Pengree’s grasp.

  Then, Rafe had left. He’d returned to his rooms in a less fashionable part of town. He’d been relieved, actually, when Swifdon’s letter had arrived this morning saying that Daphne had made a full recovery thanks to the concoction and was intent upon fulfilling her promise. Rafe had been a bit too relieved, perhaps. He’d expected Daphne to be angry with him, perhaps use her failed engagement as an excuse to back out of their agreement. He’d been wrong about her.

  The back door swung open and Pengree was there. Clearly, the butler had been expecting him. “Captain Cavendish. Lord Swifdon wishes to see you.”

  Rafe followed the butler through the back of the house, up a small staircase, and through a series of corridors until they came to the familiar space in front of the doors that led to Swifdon’s study.

  Swifdon stood as soon as Rafe was announced. He moved to the sideboard and made Rafe a stiff drink. He turned and thrust it in Rafe’s hand. “Down it. You’ll need it.”

  Rafe accepted the glass with a smile and a nod. “For the mission?”

  “No, for dealing with Daphne” was Swifdo
n’s reply.

  Rafe snorted. “I’m glad to hear she’s feeling better. She was three sheets to the wind when I left.”

  “Yes, Cass tells me she was a bit green this morning.”

  Rafe set the drink aside. “I can only imagine. I’m pleased to hear that she’s agreed to go through with it.”

  “Daphne is one of the most noble people I know. She’s dreamed her whole life of being of use to the war effort. Now the wars are over, of course, but this is exactly the type of thing I’d never be able to talk her out of.”

  “I understand, my lord.”

  If Swifdon thought it odd that Rafe wasn’t drinking, he didn’t indicate it. Swifdon tossed his own bit of brandy to the back of his throat. “I trust Daphne and I trust you, but I don’t need to remind you what will happen to you if she is harmed.”

  “No.” Rafe folded his hands behind his back and bowed. “Her life will be more important than my own.”

  “I’ve no doubt.” Swifdon nodded. “Now, for a few specifics. Cass has taken Mother to the opera tonight to get her out of the house so she won’t see Daphne leave. Mother thinks Daphne is going to Lucy Hunt’s country house for several days to get over her disappointment about Fitzwell.”

  “Is she? Disappointed about Fitzwell, I mean?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Rafe silently cursed himself for asking them.

  Swifdon grinned at him. “That’s a question for Daphne.” He rang for Pengree again. The butler appeared soon after. “Please ask Lady Daphne to join us.”

  The servant nodded and left the room.

  Rafe lifted his brows.

  “I have a similar warning for Daphne,” Swifdon explained.

  When Daphne entered the room moments later, Rafe sucked in his breath again but for an entirely different reason this time. She was wearing tight buff buckskin breeches that outlined every curve of her sweet backside, a plain, serviceable white shirt with a tight waistcoat that was obviously hiding the fact that she had breasts, however bound they might be. She wore small black top boots and her hair was coiled tight atop her head and hidden underneath a cap that completed her attire.

  It was standard dock clothing, but no cabin boy could make it look as good as Daphne did. Anyone else would only see a slight boy but Rafe knew better. Her tiny waist accentuated, her glorious backside highlighted. Rafe glanced away before his own breeches tightened. For his part, he was dressed like a ruffian ship’s captain. A white shirt, dark gray breeches, black boots, and a navy-colored coat, white cravat, and a tricorn.