Castleford sighed, but it did little to relieve his irritation. The drama of chasing after a few trespassers in the country had clearly gone to Edwards’s head. Left to his own judgment—a mistake, that, quite clearly—he had dug up the worst judgment possible.
He strode toward the stairs. He sensed a shadow and looked back to see Daphne following him.
“Stay here. Or on the terrace. Or”—he threw up his arms in exasperation—“or anywhere but up there.”
“Why?”
“Because I command it.”
That amused her so much that she giggled.
The butler had not moved, and now he raised a hand to garner attention. “Your Grace, I forgot to mention that yesterday Mr. Edwards sent a letter by messenger to Lady Hawkeswell. She immediately came here and visited Mr. Edwards and his guest.”
Daphne’s mirth dissolved into a curious, worried frown.
“How good of you to shout that through the house, you fool,” Castleford said. “Display such indiscretion again, and you will be back to serving as a footman. Or maybe a dog boy.”
The butler reddened and visibly shrank. Castleford continued up the stairs. Soft footfalls hurried up behind him.
“Mr. Edwards is here?” Daphne asked his back. “He called for Verity? What has happened? Since he was at my house, I think that I have a right to know.”
He just kept going. There was no way to keep her out of this now. Edwards would just have to protect himself from her wrath as best he could.
He strode through the main drawing room to the door to the chamber at its end. He tried to enter but found the door locked.
“Edwards, open the damned door.”
“Sir!” Edwards’s muffled voice expressed alarm, then came closer. “It might be best if I do not, Your Grace.”
“For your sake, undoubtedly so. You will open it anyway.
Now
.”
A long silence followed. So long that Castleford thought he might have to call up several footmen to break the door down.
“There has been an alarming development, Your Grace,” Edwards’s voice said. “I need your word as a gentleman that you will not repeat anything told to you, if I let you in.”
“I know what has happened, and it is so ordinary that it is boring me to death already. So open the door, and we will deal with the very normal disaster that your seclusion in Middlesex has wrought.”
The door did open then. Edwards faced him with a peeved expression. “You do not know anything, actually. I need your word, sir. I really do.”
“You are becoming tiresome. Fine, you have my word.” He pushed past Edwards, moving him aside with one arm. “Ah. As I expected. Your mystery guest is dear Miss Johnson.”
“Katherine, what are you doing here?” Daphne exclaimed, riding in on his coattails.
Miss Johnson appeared most distressed. Daphne appeared astonished. Mr. Edwards appeared brave but worried.
“Permit me to explain, Mrs. Joyes, and save us all twenty minutes of wearisome dodging and euphemisms,” Castleford said. “They are having an affair. My secretary made himself very much at home at The Rarest Blooms.” He turned to Edwards. “Did your conscience or nature force your hand, so that now you must do the right thing? Perhaps Mrs. Hill threatened to unman you with her butcher knife if you did not?”
Miss Johnson began crying. Daphne went to comfort her.
Edwards drew himself taller. “Your assumptions are indeed ordinary and boring, Your Grace. I assure you, when I have a disaster, I can do better than that.”
“It is all my fault,” Miss Johnson cried. “I should have told you, my love.” She looked forlornly at Daphne. “And you too. And Verity, certainly, since she was so kind to me.”
Daphne suddenly appeared alarmed. “Is that why you called for Verity, so you could finally tell her what you have been hiding?” She looked at Castleford. “Verity is the one who sent Katherine to The Rarest Blooms. She was the first of us to know Katherine.”
“I asked her to come here for that and so she might find a way to have the greenhouses tended after I left,” Katherine said. “She said she would go herself, so my leaving would not create more guilt for me.”
“How good of Lady Hawkeswell to oblige you. Now, I must insist that someone tell me what in hell is going on,” Castleford said.
Daphne stood. She took Katherine’s hand and made her rise too. “I will leave it to Mr. Edwards to explain what he can. If he is less than forthcoming, Your Grace, I ask that you remember that your station is such that knowing everything is not always wise. I, on the other hand, am not constrained by rank or oaths.”
She led Katherine to the door. She turned before following Katherine out. “I will learn it all from her and explain it to His Grace when necessary, Mr. Edwards, so do not feel obligated to say more than good sense will permit.” She stepped close to Castleford and spoke softly. “May I remind you that the first day we met, you gave your word to treat her as if she were your sister?”
She left, with him staring in amazement that she would use that fool statement about a sister in such a way, as well as give Edwards permission to dodge after all. She closed the door behind her.
He turned both his attention and his annoyance on Mr. Edwards. “I noticed that you did not deny an affair.”
Edwards flushed. “This is not about that, even if it were true.”
Oh, it was true. And it was about that, in some way. “Start explaining. I had intended to be doing something else by now, Edwards, so this had better be interesting.” He threw himself onto the sofa and looked up expectantly.
Mr. Edwards sat without being invited. Whatever had happened, the young man had forgotten himself.
“That trespasser, the one near the house, was not interested in your investigations of the property, Your Grace. He was interested in Miss Johnson.”
That was at least mildly interesting. “How so?”
“He came again, and this time I caught him. He told me he was hired by her family to find her. He had traced her to the coast where the trail went cold. When he returned some time later with a drawn portrait of her, he chanced upon a shopkeeper who remembered seeing her with Lord and Lady Hawkeswell, in Southend-on-Sea. It took him months to make the connection to The Rarest Blooms, and he came to see if he might be right about that.”
“So she ran away from her family, and now they have found her.” Castleford shrugged. “She is of age, I assume, so it does not signify much. Why this run to London and your barricade behind a locked door?”
As soon as he said it, he knew the answer. Edwards’s expression confirmed his conclusion.
“By family you did not mean her parents, did you? A husband searches for her.”
Edwards remained stone-faced.
“You cannot keep him from her, Edwards.”
Edwards’s jaw tightened. “I ask permission to borrow your dueling pistols, sir. I do not have my own, you see.”
“You have no standing to challenge him. It will be considered murder, if you kill the husband of your paramour.”
“I must do something,” Edwards said through gritted teeth.
“You must not. You cannot have her in any way other than how you have so far. If he takes her away, you must forget her. The stupid marriage laws of England decree this, not I. If he challenges you, you may protect yourself, but I fear you will see the worst of it.”
“You do not understand, Your Grace.”
“You mean that you are in love, and I do not understand the depths of your feeling? That is true, but it changes nothing.” Not necessarily true, anymore. The thought startled him a little, but there it was.
“It is not only that.” Edwards looked away, overcome with emotion. “The scoundrel beat her. I have seen marks.”
That was a regrettable point, and it explained Edwards’s strange behavior in seeking sanctuary here almost too well. Castleford stood, the winds of irritation suddenly gone, and walked away while Edwards got hold of himself.
He supposed the young man had done his duty as he saw it. Edwards might even have done the same if there had been no intimacy with Miss Johnson. Had he not received orders to protect the women in that house?
“Is that all?” he asked, not turning to see Edwards.
A pause, too long. “It is enough.”
Enough, but not all. For the second time in a week he was expected to accept half an explanation when he knew it was incomplete. Once again, however, it might be best to swallow his curiosity.
Probably Daphne was hearing the rest in the next room. Presumably Lady Hawkeswell already knew it. It would all come out in the end.
“You cannot challenge her husband,” he repeated. “That is out of the question.”
“I cannot allow him to take her back.”
Castleford returned to the sofa. He made himself comfortable. “This is what is called a conundrum, Edwards. I am very glad I almost never face them myself. I leave it to you to solve it. For me to help in any way would make me complicit, as you rightly noted.”
“Of course, sir. I understand. I wanted to spare you that awkwardness, and I would have if you had allowed it.”
Castleford yawned and let the entire matter pass while a view out the window distracted him for a few minutes.
“I read an interesting journal article while I was gone, Edwards. I brought it back, because I remembered how you often find news of America interesting. Remind me to give it to you.”
“That was thoughtful of you, Your Grace. I think I have little ability to enjoy it now, however.”
“This writer commented on how that land is so vast, and the immigration so large, that most people have little knowledge of their neighbors’ pasts. Nor is there any sound way to confirm whatever history might be claimed.” He looked at Edwards. “Your tailor might have been a criminal in Scotland, he wrote. The wife of the boot maker might have another husband in France. Can you imagine such a thing? The entire country is probably populated by charlatans.”
Edwards had the good sense to say nothing, but his gaze deepened.
“I will be sure to put the journal on your desk. Now, come with me. I may as well get some work out of you, as long as you disobeyed my directions and returned to town without permission.”
He led Edwards out through the drawing room, where Miss Johnson wept into Daphne’s lap. He ignored Daphne’s beseeching look in his direction and went out and up the stairs to his apartment. He sent the valets away and brought Edwards to the dressing room.
“Turn your back. If you see this, I will have to kill you,” he said.
Edwards turned away. Castleford opened a hidden panel in the back of a wardrobe and removed a purse heavy with gold coins.
“I need you to take this to the bank for me, to be put in my account. Take one of the carriages. It looks like it might rain.”
Edwards weighed the purse in his hand. He looked first confused, then astonished.
“I advise that you obey me immediately, Edwards. You do not want me more annoyed with you, due to your recent tendency to argue.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” His face flushed. He struggled with high emotion again. “If I may say, sir, I will always remember with fondness—that is, Tuesdays will be special days my whole life, I think.”
“I can’t imagine why, seeing as how I worked you like a slave on Tuesdays. Now, be off with you, and take care of that purse. I don’t want you telling me there has been another disaster. One a week is plenty for a secretary, don’t you think?”
Edwards bowed and turned on his heel. Castleford watched him go and experienced a touch of nostalgia. Then he went over and closed the wardrobe’s door.
Godspeed, Mr. Edwards
.
D
aphne rocked slowly. Her body absorbed and released his phallus with its movements. She braced herself above him, hands on his chest, and he caressed her breasts and made the arousal coil in her even more.
It was too beautiful, she thought. The pleasure and the poignancy. Too intimate, almost painfully so. She could not separate the sensations from the heartache or the sense of raw closeness. She could only submit to all of it and hope this mood did not herald more aches to come.
He drew her down to him and held her face to a deep kiss. Then he moved her up so his teeth and tongue tantalized her breasts and forced frantic need to tighten where they joined. He held her hips so he only filled her and she could not move. She felt him so clearly, so completely, and it crazed her that she could find no relief for what he did to her.
Her mind started to darken, the way it did as fulfillment beckoned. The pleasure and her essence reached for that wonderful ecstasy. He held her hips still and took over so she could not escape the way he moved and how he made her come alive to that erotic pressure.
There was no crash of release this time. Instead an eddy of sparkling pleasure coursed through her body. No obliteration of self occurred. No escape either. She remained fully aware of every nuance of how that flow moved and affected her, until it seemed to enter her heart and soul.