Chapter Twenty-Three
For three days, Daphne walked about Falstone House with a smile just beneath the surface. She could not remember a time when her heart had been lighter. James had come to call every day since Lady Techney’s illness, and the previous evening at the ball, he’d even danced with her. And when engaged with others that night, he’d still looked over at her occasionally from across the room.
Daphne’s smile could not help but peek through her usual reserve at the memory of those brief connections. She brushed her fingers across the tips of several flowers on a bush near the entrance to the small park where she knew James walked his small dog.
The gentleman she had fallen in love with during the past half dozen years was falling in love with her. She came remarkably close to squealing right there in a public green, an uncharacteristic urge she’d felt a remarkable number of times over the past few days.
Turning a corner, she spotted James just ahead. He tossed a stick, and the puppy he’d named Scamp rushed after it. Sitting on a stone bench nearby was Lady Techney.
James spotted Daphne in the next moment, smiling at her as always. He waved as they approached. “Good morning, Daphne.”
“Good morning,” she offered in return. “And to you, Lady Techney. You appear to be feeling well today.”
“I am, and it is a very pleasant change.” She fussed a moment with her lap blanket before resuming her stitching.
Daphne had learned during her long vigil at Lady Techney’s bedside that James’s mother was very fond of embroidery; she had mentioned it several times. Daphne’s own mother had filled their home with stitchery during the short years of her life.
James walked with Daphne a few paces away, where Scamp was happily gnawing the already slobbery stick.
James took her hand in his as he’d done in the carriage a few days earlier. The gesture had so quickly become natural and easy between them. The feel of his touch momentarily robbed her of the ability to respond. She simply breathed and committed the moment to memory.
“I know my mother well enough to realize she is not likely to give you the thanks you deserve for the throat tonic you provided for her.”
“Your cook has the recipe and can prepare it for her whenever she is in need of it.” Daphne managed to get the words out whole despite the fact that James had not yet released her hand.
“I do believe you would put to shame any apothecary in the kingdom.” He squeezed her fingers. “You’ve done wonders for Mother.”
“I am so pleased she is feeling better.”
He took up Scamp’s stick with his free hand and tossed it away for the pup to chase. “Have you had word from Shropshire?”
“My father is quite ill, unfortunately. In mind as well as body.”
“I am so sorry.” He adjusted their position so her arm was threaded through his, pulling her closer to him. She accepted the thoughtful and supportive gesture and leaned a little against him. “Has your brother-in-law offered any specific information?”
“No.” She sighed as he set his hand on hers where it rested on his arm. “But Father’s situation is not at all hopeful.”
“Do you and the duchess need to travel to Shropshire? I would be happy to help you make any arrangements.”
She felt her telltale blush return but did not fight against it. By now, James knew her tendency to color and did not seem to mind. “We will wait to hear what Adam recommends.”
“It seems, then, that you are in need of diversions,” he said. “Anything you would like, Daphne. An afternoon carriage ride, a trip to Greenwich Park. Whatever you choose.”
Anything she wanted. Would he think her odd or overly sentimental if she confessed to wanting nothing so much as an hour or two of his company? She had no desire to seem pathetic. A carriage ride about Hyde Park could be undertaken in relative privacy, but a longer trip to Greenwich Park would involve a great many servants, and Persephone would be required to attend for the sake of propriety.
“I am not sure,” she said, trying to think of a third alternative.
“There must be something you want to do but haven’t.”
“I have been surprisingly happy here, James. Indeed, this Season is the first time I have ever come to Town when I haven’t been desperate to escape.”
“Escape.” A broad smile spread across his face. “You have given me the perfect idea.”
“What is it?”
His excitement proved infectious. “Tomorrow afternoon you are going to have a picnic.”
He had remembered that fleeting moment of conversation. She hadn’t been on a picnic in ten years. The very thought rekindled long-forgotten memories of happy times and worry-free moments with her family, of shedding the weight of responsibility and hardship. “Oh, James, that would be wonderful.”
“And I will personally make all the arrangements, so you need do nothing but attend and enjoy yourself.”
“You are certain?” she asked.
James took her hand once more, raising it to his lips and brushing the lightest kiss on her fingers. “It will be my very real pleasure.”
Long after she and Fanny returned to their carriage to make the drive back to Falstone House, Daphne held the back of her hand to her cheek, closing her eyes, shutting out every sensation but the memory of his kiss.
* * *
James discovered that doing a kindness for Daphne was both a privilege and a joy. He’d spent an enjoyable afternoon and morning planning the impromptu picnic. By means of a quick tête-à-tête with Her Grace at the Bowers’ musicale the evening before, he’d discovered Daphne liked water-chestnut sandwiches, lemonade, and apple tarts. He’d also learned that the Lancasters had enjoyed only the most basic of accommodations when picnicking: a blanket, a basket of food, plates, and utensils. He meant to recreate those excursions.
Ben crossed his path as he made a circuit of the front entryway, awaiting Daphne’s arrival. Inexplicably, his brother laughed almost on the instant.
“You find something entertaining?” James glanced out the windows at the sky, wanting further reassurance that the weather would cooperate.
“I find you entertaining. I haven’t seen you this giddy since we were boys.”
“I am not giddy.”
Ben only laughed again. “Enthusiastic, then.”
James shrugged. “I like picnics.”
Ben motioned for James to walk with him toward the back terrace. “I have a feeling what you have come to like is Miss Lancaster.”
“How could I not like her? She is intelligent and witty and a genuinely good person.”
Ben raised an eyebrow even as he lowered his voice. “Am I to assume you are not so disgusted with your courtship of her as you were a few weeks ago?”
The reminder was a bit sobering. “I still cannot like how all this began. But I’ve had time to come to know Daphne better, and I have found reason to be optimistic.”
“She’s not the dragon you expected her to be?”
He had made a great many assumptions about her, none of which had proven accurate. “Better than that, even. The more I know of her, the more I believe we could make a good match of it.”
Ben shook his head. “‘A good match’ is not the same as ‘a love match.’”
Leave it to Ben to dampen the enthusiasm James had managed to find. “No. But it is better than what our parents have.”
“You have resigned yourself to it?”
Resigned was far too harsh a word. “I like Miss Lancaster. Quite a lot, in fact.”
Ben studied him a moment. “I’ve come to like her as well,” he eventually said. “I don’t care for the idea of her spending her life with a husband who regrets marrying her.”
James pushed out a breath. The guilt he’d tried to assuage all week flooded over him again. He had spent far too mu
ch of the past weeks deceiving a good-hearted lady. He did like Daphne. She was a wonder and a pleasant surprise. He missed her when she was away and thought of her while they were apart. He might not have chosen her on his own, but he could be a good husband to her. “I didn’t say I regretted courting her,” he said.
“If you cannot go forward with this honestly,” Ben said, “you really shouldn’t go forward at all.”
James shook his head. “It isn’t that simple. This arrangement may have begun by force, but it does not feel that way any longer. Should I be fortunate enough to win her regard, I will do everything I can to make her happy.”
“Everything except tell her the truth.”
“The truth would only hurt her, Ben.”
For the first time, his brother seemed to empathize with him. “An impossible situation, isn’t it? Being honest means she would never trust you again, but withholding the truth is not the proper thing either.”
“At times it feels completely impossible.”
“But you do like her?” Ben pressed.
James nodded. “Quite a lot, actually.”
“Well, that is a start, I suppose.”
“Given time, I hope we can find something more than that.” James was surprised at the strength of that hope. He wanted to find reason to believe their connection was based on more than lies and misplaced trust. He liked Daphne far more than he’d expected to. It confused him and pushed him forward all at once.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Even the most talented landscape artist could not have captured the perfection of the meadow to which the Techney House butler led Daphne and Persephone. Though several other guests had been invited, Daphne knew James meant the picnic for her. She could not remember a time when something had been planned purely for her enjoyment.
“What do you suppose inspired Lord Tilburn to have a picnic?” Persephone glanced at Daphne, a teasing glint in her eye. “Perhaps merely a passing fancy?”
“I think it is a splendid idea.” Daphne smiled, caring not at all that her cheeks glowed a revealing shade of red.
“I will say this, Daphne: Adam has his misgivings about this courtship, but I believe if he had been here to see the change in you these past few days, he would wholeheartedly support Lord Tilburn’s suit.”
“Once Adam has returned and we resume our afternoons together, I intend to tell him how wrong he was,” Daphne said with a laugh. “The Dangerous Duke doesn’t often find himself being fed humble pie.”
Persephone’s eyes shone with amusement. “I cannot say it is a dish he enjoys.”
Daphne watched as James made his way to where they sat on large cushions beneath the cooling canopy of an ash tree. She hoped Adam really would come to see how wrong he had been about James. He was good and kind. Though his courtship had caught them off guard, his regard had proven sincere.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted upon reaching them. “May I join you a moment?”
“Certainly.”
He sat nearest her seemingly without hesitation. Daphne’s heart fluttered frantically in her chest. The awkwardness of their earliest interactions had melted away over the course of the past week. A comfortable contentment had settled over her and a growing excitement. She had loved him for years, and finally, he had begun to feel the same for her.
“I believe your picnic is a success,” Daphne said.
James smiled at her. She managed to hold back the delighted giggle that sight inspired in her. “This is your picnic, Daphne, despite the plethora of extra attendees. My father could not allow an opportunity for lording about to pass. He added significantly to the guest list. I hope that hasn’t ruined it for you.”
“Not at all. Everything is perfect.”
He shook his head, though the gesture struck her as one of disbelief rather than negation. “Is she always this easy to please?” he asked Persephone.
“Daphne is, perhaps, the least demanding person I have ever known.”
Why did Persephone’s response not feel entirely like a compliment?
“I can see I have embarrassed you.” James leaned closer, taking her hand in his, which had become a gesture he engaged in increasingly often of late. For her part, Daphne loved that he had adopted such a tender gesture.
“I blush very easily. You need not always assume I do so because you have embarrassed me.”
“Have I though?” His gaze met hers.
Hearing herself being discussed had ever been an uncomfortable experience, and it had, in all honesty, been a little embarrassing. His words, however, were kind, unlike many conversations about herself that she’d overheard. Mrs. Hammond in the neighborhood where she’d grown up had always included in any reference to Daphne the phrase “the short, plain one.” Mrs. Cole, from whom she’d collected the sewing they had taken in, had seemed particularly fond of the word unpromising.
“Daphne?” James’s voice captured her attention once more. “Have I upset you?”
“Not at all. And the picnic truly is perfect, regardless of what my sister says of my complacent nature.”
“I had not meant to imply that you are complacent,” Persephone said. “You are certainly not that. You are sweet natured, a trait that is decidedly a good one.”
“Hear, hear.” James nodded firmly.
“The two of you will have me blushing furiously,” Daphne warned. “And that would ruin this lovely picnic.”
James’s eyes focused off in the distance. “I fear it may soon be ruined anyway.” A look of amused resignation crossed his face.
Daphne followed his gaze. Scamp darted about the gathered picnickers, most likely in search of a morsel or two. Several maids attempted to shoo him away from the table of food whilst guests did their best to avoid a confrontation with the enthusiastic mongrel.
“Perhaps I should rescue them,” James said.
“Or rescue him—poor Scamp is outnumbered, after all.”
“‘Poor Scamp,’ is it? I see he has managed to secure your sympathies.” James’s gaze shifted in the direction of his mother. “I do need to rein him in before he upsets too many people.” By which he, of course, meant his mother.
He let out a whistle, then looked a bit chagrined as he apologized for not having warned Daphne and her sister. A moment later, Scamp trotted up next to his master looking as innocent as a lamb. James scratched him behind his ears, earning a very thorough licking of his hand.
“I can see who is in charge in this relationship,” Daphne said.
“The mongrel is,” James acknowledged. “I don’t suppose the Falstone wolf pack has His Grace wrapped around their fingers, or paws, as it were.”
“Hardly.” Daphne stroked the soft fur on Scamp’s back. “The wolves are afraid of Adam just like everyone else.”
Scamp spun about, applying himself to offering Daphne the same affection he’d just bestowed upon his master. When she too scratched behind his ears, the pup leapt enthusiastically onto her lap.
James attempted to scoop up the puppy, but it scrambled from his grasp and went directly back to Daphne. “This scoundrel has absolutely no manners,” he said.
Daphne allowed Scamp to set to work once more licking her hand from every imaginable angle. “But he likes me.”
James smiled at her. “That is decidedly a point in his favor.”
“Are you certain that doesn’t make him dim-witted as well as badly behaved?”
“Not dim-witted at all.”
He kissed her fingers—those on the hand not being accosted by Scamp—just as he had the day before. Perhaps someday that token of affection might give way to an actual kiss. Daphne had often dreamed of kissing James Tilburn. More frequently of late, in fact.
Scamp apparently found the loss of their mutual attention insupportable. He dashed off, weaving in and around clumps of people, yelping
and jumping and generally causing increasing levels of chaos.
James sighed ruefully. “I’d best go gather him up.”
“I think your guests would appreciate that.”
He rose, assuring Daphne he would return shortly, and hurried off after his misbehaving pet.
“Yes,” Persephone said into the silence he left behind. “I believe Adam would entirely approve of your Lord Tilburn.”
“My Lord Tilburn,” she repeated quietly, watching as James tried to catch up with his recalcitrant puppy. “He is wonderful.”
“So I have noticed.” An amused laugh touched Persephone’s voice. “And he seems to think highly of you as well.”
“Do you think he might love me?” Daphne asked, hoping Persephone would give the same answer she had given herself.
“I believe he is beginning to.”
“So do I,” Daphne whispered, her heart flipping over at the thought.
“I am so very happy for you, Daphne. I truly am.”
Scamp returned in the next moment, sans James. Daphne scanned the gathered guests but did not spot him. Was he still trying to find the little mongrel? Several minutes passed without a sign of him.
“Shall I track down your master?” She rubbed the puppy’s head. James would no doubt appreciate knowing his search for Scamp had been rendered futile. She rose, Scamp following on her heels as she walked amongst the guests. James was not among them.
Scamp abandoned her a moment later, running headlong into a cluster of trees not too far distant.
“Scamp!” Daphne followed its path. How absurd if she were to find James only after losing his dog. He no doubt would simply smile at her as he always did.
The puppy, as it turned out, was very fast. Daphne stepped into the trees, but Scamp was nowhere to be seen. Where had he gone?
“I am doing my very best.”
Daphne stopped at the unexpected sound of James’s voice. He too had come into the clump of trees. Perhaps the pup ran in sensing his master was there. If not, they could certainly find the mongrel easier if they worked together.
Together. Daphne silently sighed at the joy of that single word. She had so often battled with feelings of loneliness. Only in moments of hopeful daydreaming had she imagined that changing so entirely.
Romancing Daphne Page 18
