She collapsed on him, spent, without any defenses to the mood now. And so she could not ignore the shadow of sadness in her, still there once the pleasure that had obscured it passed.
It was because of Katherine, she supposed. She had to smile at the way she still thought of her as Katherine, because she now knew for certain her name was not Katherine Johnson at all. She had not pressed for the real one. As long as Katherine remained in England, it would be best if none of them knew her real identity.
Castleford’s arms encompassed her, as if he guessed her sorrow and knew the reason. He had not seen their parting, of course. But as soon as Mr. Edwards had called for that carriage, Daphne had known that she would never see her latest sister again.
She felt his kiss on her hair. “I think that makes it five times today,” he said. “We are a better pair than I imagined. I am pleased to discover you are as insatiable as I am.”
She had to laugh. She had required this fifth time. She had felt so bereft when she saw Katherine roll away in that carriage with Mr. Edwards that she had turned to a friend for comfort and initiated matters on her own. Whoever had expected her to see this man filling the role of comforting friend and in this way?
“Where do you think they are?” she asked. “How far would they have gotten by now?”
“I don’t know what you mean. I expect Mr. Edwards to return from the bank any minute now.”
She turned so she could see his face. “Since you may be asked questions about them, it may be best if you know what will be said so you are not too startled.”
“I get to know all of it, and not only ‘enough’ this time? I may faint from shock at the honor.”
She did not miss the sardonic note in his voice or the allusion to another “enough.”
“She ran away after protecting herself from the brute. She cut his arm when he began beating her one night, and she dared not go back after that. He might only beat her worse for it, or he could have her transported by laying down information.”
“In other words, you have been harboring a criminal at The Rarest Blooms.”
“In a manner of speaking, perhaps.”
“Unfortunately, there is no other manner of speaking about this. Still, I am doubly glad that I sent Mr. Edwards on that errand today.”
“I know that I am.” She kissed his chest. “I am also very grateful to you for doing this.”
He made a display of looking at how they remained bound. “For this? The gratitude is all mine, I am sure. I was delighted that you insisted on dragging me to bed, even if it was not my bed. This one is much smaller. I did not even know this chamber was on this level.”
The housekeeper had known, however. She had brought Daphne here to refresh herself.
They could have gone to Castleford’s bed, of course. It wasn’t far away. When she lured him into passion, however, she discovered her heart rebelling against lying with him in that bed where so many women had lain before.
“I favor this chamber myself,” she said. “I was speaking of helping them. But, yes, I am grateful for this too. It was the best comfort for a sad heart.”
That pleased him more than she expected. He turned them both so he could nestle above her. She realized, as she looked up at his face, that since that afternoon in the garden tent, a third Castleford had emerged, and she caught glimpses of him at times like this. This one had much of the two others in him, the incorrigible one and the Tuesday one, but was notable mostly for the way he instilled confidence in his—honesty, she supposed the word would be.
He toyed with locks of her hair that had come unbound. “You are not to worry about her. Mr. Edwards knows the inns where I keep all my pairs, to change off when I travel. He was responsible for sending payment for the horses’ keep. They will reach Liverpool and be on a ship in good time, and even if they are followed, which I doubt, no husband will catch up.”
“Liverpool? I thought they were making a run for the eastern coast.”
“That is too predictable and leaves them on the Continent. Mr. Edwards needs to find employment. America probably has use for a well-educated man of letters.”
America. So far away.
“I must go and tell Audrianna. She sent a messenger with a request that I come by this evening. After the carriage returned to them, the coachman must have explained his absence and where his passengers were left.”
“We will go together.”
That honesty showed in his eyes, and she knew what he implied.
“I welcome your company, Castleford. She will not quiz me too boldly if you are there. However, we will not return here together afterwards.”
“If you return to living at Park Lane while Summerhays and his wife are in residence, it will be hellishly inconvenient. Having an affair with a married woman would be easier.” He toyed with her lips and feathered his fingertips over her jaw to encourage a liberal view. “It is only for a few days that you would live here with me in sin. By the time scandal breaks, we will be wed, and that will distract the fools all the more, anyway.”
There it was again, that assumption about marriage. That guilt and its necessary penance. He still had not proposed, of course. All three Castlefords just assumed it would happen as he decreed.
“I will not be living on Park Lane,” she said. “Tomorrow I will return to The Rarest Blooms. I cannot expect Verity to care for the gardens and greenhouse in my stead.”
He sighed in his dramatic way, as if the world’s idiocy and her stubbornness conspired to persecute him. He rested his forehead against hers during a smothered moan.
Then he looked down again, too deeply and too seriously. “You know that we can hire gardeners to send there. So you leave for other reasons.”
He had become curious again. He was thinking too hard on a small point.
“I belong there.” A deep ache squeezed her heart, because he would hear all the rest of what she meant, even though she had not put it into words.
I don’t belong here, with you. We both know it.
“You are burying yourself there before your time. It might as well be a graveyard covered in flowers.” His gaze sharpened with his words. “Even living here in scandal would be better, and I am not asking you to do that. Living out there so long has made you too comfortable with your isolation, I think.”
This time
she
heard the words unsaid.
It makes no sense for a woman to give up being a duchess and choose obscurity instead. It makes no sense even if it means marrying such as me
.
“It is not for you to decide what is best for me. Do not convince yourself to go back on your word about a place in the country where I can live, least of all to satisfy your own preferences instead of mine, in the name of saving me from my sorry fate.”
He rolled off her and onto his back, thoroughly annoyed. He looked over at her. “Have you tired of me already? Was this a parting gift? How like a woman, to only admit her desire as she walks out the door.”
“You are forgetting yourself, Your Grace.”
“Answer me. Have you tired of me already?”
She should say she had. Only she could not lie easily when looking into eyes that were so frankly open to her.
“I need to be there when Margaret and the others arrive. I need to prepare for them, as well as care for the plants. This is not about you but about responsibilities that I have.”
Coward
. She should let this be the parting intimacy, the way he thought. She should accept that this dalliance was over. She could not, however, try as she might. Even this physical retreat would hurt more than she ever expected now, and, it seemed, as they watched each other across those pillows, other retreats were happening too, within him.
“It is not that far,” he said, turning his gaze to the ceiling. “You will have to come here, though, unless you want me claiming my property rights while those women are in your house.”
He left then to go to his chambers to wash and dress for the visit to Audrianna and Sebastian.
Soon a maid arrived with water he had sent up to her. She prepared too, while sadness weighed on her composure.
She might come back once or twice. Soon, however, she would no longer. Even if he did not tire of her, she guessed she would soon only see those other two Castlefords, no matter how deeply she gazed into his eyes. Eventually, she suspected, she would become boring and tedious and more trouble than she was worth.
A
udrianna appeared ready to give birth before the night was out. Large with child, she positioned herself for as much comfort as the chaise longue afforded her. Daphne did not miss the spark in her green eyes that said this visit had distracted her most thoroughly from the awkwardness of her body, however.
Castleford and Summerhays discussed the events up in Manchester with a good many muttered curses and a good deal of shared concern. The newspapers contained lurid stories of the disaster, and already it had been dubbed “Peterloo” by voices critical of the government’s role. A writer for the
Times
had been arrested during the riot, and no one expected his story to exonerate the officials.
“At least a hundred dead,” Summerhays said. “Perhaps more soon, from the injuries. This was badly done.”
“I doubt you will hear many of the peers agree with you. The only fair hearing will be in the Commons,” Castleford said. “Let us meet tomorrow and speak of it, and have Hawkeswell come too and a few others who are not insane. We do not want to bore the ladies with it now, I am sure.”
Summerhays looked amused at that. “Indeed not. I am fortunate to have you here to remind me. I know how you much prefer drawing room chatter to discussions of great events.”
“I merely sought to avoid ignoring your lovely wife, who was kind enough to receive us despite her condition.”
“Oh, I would not have missed this for all the world,” Audrianna said. She smiled brightly at Castleford, then slyly at Daphne. “I know how rare it is for you to make any social calls, Your Grace. I am honored.” She looked at Daphne again and absently felt at her chestnut curls while she tried to appear casual instead of curious as could be.
“I was very fortunate that His Grace traveled north too,” Daphne tried.
“Very fortunate,” Audrianna said.
“His escort out of the region was very reassuring. There was no way to know what one would find on the roads.”
“You have my gratitude, Castleford, for protecting my dear cousin.”
Daphne feared Audrianna would giggle soon, if she were not distracted from her all too obvious fascination with her two guests being here at the same time, after having made a journey together.
“Lord Sebastian, how does your brother fare? Will we see him this evening?” Daphne asked, hoping to occupy Audrianna with other things.
“He has gone down to the country to see our mother. It may be some days until he returns.”
“He is doing very well, however,” Audrianna said. “He is walking again. I thought Sebastian would weep when he saw that.”
“I was overjoyed, of course, but I did not almost
weep
, darling.” Sebastian gave her an indulgent but scolding look.
“That German physician worked wonders, I am sure, but I think his body healed because his soul did first,” Audrianna said. “And also his heart.”
Daphne knew that Sebastian’s brother, the Marquess of Wittonbury, had left England under a cloud of scandal. His return would probably stir that up again. She hoped not until after Audrianna was brought to bed. Audrianna was not a weak woman, and her pregnancy had gone well, but no one wanted her worried.
“My wife alludes to the biggest change in my brother,” Sebastian said, mostly to Castleford. “He did not return alone.”
Castleford had been listening politely, if somewhat lazily. Now his attention sharpened. “It does not sound as if he brought this physician back.”
“No, he did not.” Audrianna’s expression indicated she badly wanted to share this news. “He brought back the physician’s daughter, who was trained by her father in the medical arts.”
“I expect that will be useful,” Castleford said, his speculative tone prompting more details.
“That depends on what you mean by useful,” Summerhays said a bit dryly.
“Sebastian is still accommodating the surprise,” Audrianna said. “Joanna is a lovely woman. I liked her at once.”
Castleford crossed his arms and speared Summerhays with a devilish look. “Enough of this polite dodging. Did he bring back a mistress?”
Summerhays shook his head. “You will find the truth of it much more interesting than that, Castleford. He brought back a wife.”
“T
hank goodness they left,” Audrianna said. “Forgive me, but I must put up my feet or I will cry.” She carefully swung her legs up so she reclined on the chaise longue. “Of all evenings for the duke to decide to make a social call.”