Dangerous in Diamonds (9 page)
He had planned this thoroughly, she realized. Perhaps plotted it for days. He had been leading her to this exact spot with the entire conversation. “I doubt that Lord Sebastian made this offer on impulse. What did you do to encourage him?”
“I may have written and mentioned I had met you and that I thought that you would be coming up to town for a fortnight.”
“A week, you said.”
“In my letter I expressed concern, since London in summer can be unhealthy. He responded that you must use their house. Since it faces the park, the air is quite cool and always fresh. He said Lady Sebastian would write to you and extend the invitation.” He leaned forward to take a little cake. “Her letter probably arrived in Cumberworth today.” He popped the cake in his mouth.
He looked pleased with himself and content that he had arranged her next week to his liking. Which he had. She did not have the confidence in his character to believe that, if she thwarted his plans, he would still be generous. He knew it too. He counted on his reputation leaving her unsure of him.
“You promise that you will turn your mind to this matter with discipline if I come to town?”
“I count on you permitting me to think about little else while you are here. Now, since you sound agreeable, let us go find Miss Johnson. I need to return to the hell where I suffer the tortures of the damned.”
He escorted her out of the breezy chamber, through the luxurious public rooms, down the stairs, and out to the terrace. In the garden, Katherine was pointing to a rosebush while she spoke, and earnest Mr. Edwards was scribbling in his little ledger book.
He saw his employer and brought Katherine back to the terrace. Katherine appeared quite calm. The garden had soothed her misgivings, it seemed.
Castleford took Mr. Edwards aside for a few words. Katherine sidled close to Daphne. “Why did you not tell me that you brought me so I could have my first chance to advise on gardens and plants for a grand house? I am grateful that you have such confidence in me already.”
Daphne noticed how Mr. Edwards was showing his garden notes to Castleford, who appeared bored to death. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Castleford came over and took his leave of them. Then Mr. Edwards approached. “I have the honor to ensure that both you ladies are seen safely to your respective homes. His Grace instructed that we first go to Park Lane, Mrs. Joyes, and leave you there.”
“I have a carriage. Nor will I take residence on Park Lane for a day or so. Your escort will not be necessary. You may return to His Grace.”
The young man’s face fell in dismay. “Your carriage was released an hour ago, Mrs. Joyes. On the duke’s command.” He consulted his little ledger and ticked off his orders. “Before we joined you, His Grace explained my duties. I am to take you to Park Lane, then Miss Johnson to Cumberworth—I am to ride alongside His Grace’s coach, of course, and not accompany her inside. Then I must return to Park Lane with baggage Miss Johnson is going to pack for you.”
Mr. Edwards had received these instructions before Castleford even entered that breezy chamber.
“I see that the duke intends your evening to be very full, Mr. Edwards. Unfortunately, His Grace did not take into account our preferences regarding our own plans when he made yours.”
Mr. Edwards’s face flushed. “Did he neglect to explain it all to you? My sincere apologies. That happens sometimes, I am sorry to say. Dukes have much on their minds, however.”
This duke mostly seemed to have a game of seduction on his mind, Daphne suspected. He had taken efforts to make sure she remained conveniently nearby too, until he bothered to amuse himself by making the next move.
Chapter Six
T
he house on Park Lane was elegant and massive, as befitted the townhome of a lord. Daphne had visited Audrianna on occasion in the past and even knew some of the servants. She could not ask for a better situation if she wanted to spend a week—or ten days—in London in summer. Even with the household moved to the coast, enough retainers remained to ensure her safety and security along with her comfort and peace.
he house on Park Lane was elegant and massive, as befitted the townhome of a lord. Daphne had visited Audrianna on occasion in the past and even knew some of the servants. She could not ask for a better situation if she wanted to spend a week—or ten days—in London in summer. Even with the household moved to the coast, enough retainers remained to ensure her safety and security along with her comfort and peace.
Nonetheless, from her first hour there she felt vulnerable. Perhaps the mere size of the place caused that. There was nothing cozy about the expansive library or towering dining room. Her presence created echoes wherever she went when she left her chamber.
That chamber became her sanctuary. She took her dinner there after Mr. Edwards deposited her in the reception hall. She was sitting at the window, observing how dark transformed the park, when he returned that night with her baggage.
Its arrival in her chamber involved a bit of ceremony, while the maid assigned to her hung out the dresses. Daphne noticed that her two best ones, the ones that would be presentable for dinner parties, had found their way here. She had not instructed Katherine to pack them.
Mr. Edwards had received rather detailed orders from his master, it appeared, and had interfered with Katherine’s choice of wardrobe.
And that, she realized, was why she felt vulnerable. The duke had arranged for her to inhabit a huge town house with acres of chambers that the sparse staff never would enter. He had ensured she did not have any of her friends living with her, or any woman at all as a companion. His plotting indicated he was taking far more interest in her than any decent woman would welcome from such a notorious man.
She debated how to end his game as she fell asleep, and took up the matter again when she woke. Just as she admitted that she was only vulnerable because she did not find him as repulsive as she should, a maid brought her breakfast.
There was no mail, of course, but the day’s
Times
came up with the tray. She read it while she ate at a table set near the window.
Times
came up with the tray. She read it while she ate at a table set near the window.
An article that reported the growing unrest among workers in the north captured her attention. She looked for familiar names of towns up there to see if violence threatened people that she knew. She prayed that those she loved would be safe, and also the others she knew in that region.
Toward the end of the article, however, another reference arrested her gaze.
The paper noted that Lord Latham, now the new Duke of Becksbridge, was expected to come up to London soon. It speculated that the prime minister would make it a point to meet with him, and proffered the opinion that Latham’s recently published essay, in which he preached that a return to obedience to civil and natural law was critical to England’s future, had found great favor within the government and army.
The article dimmed her mood. Thinking about Latham usually did. Fortunately, she had not had much cause to for years. Clearly that respite was over.
She would have to obtain this new essay of his. It would be comical to read. A return to civil and natural law, indeed. As she remembered it, this man had little conscience and thought himself above all laws. No doubt he believed that only the lower orders of society should be obedient.
The maid came to take her tray. A footman accompanied her and presented a calling card.
Lady Hawkeswell was down below.
Ten minutes later Verity breezed into the bedchamber, threw her silk reticule on the bed, and removed her bonnet to reveal the artful curls into which her dark hair had been dressed.
Verity possessed the most fashionable kind of beauty—ivory skin, red lips, dark hair—to a degree that annoyed certain ladies of society who did not think nature, let alone Lord Hawkeswell, should have favored a woman with Verity’s common background.
“You should have chosen one of the other chambers,” Verity said. “This one may face the park, but it also faces west and will be very warm on a summer afternoon. There is no sitting room attached either.”
“Its size suited me, as did its prospects and its light colors.” She took Verity’s hand and urged her to sit. “How did you learn so quickly that I was here?”
Verity moved the chair up the wall so the sun, already pouring in as she had warned, did not blind her. “Celia sent me a note this morning. She in turn learned from her husband, who had learned of it while in the City.”
“I don’t suppose you know how Mr. Albrighton in turn learned of it.”
“Castleford told him. They were at one of Mr. Albrighton’s meetings regarding his inheritance early this morning. Since Castleford has found those conferences boring and no longer joins them, his presence today surprised Mr. Albrighton.” Verity spoke casually. She looked around, examining the room’s appointments. She strove to appear normal, but her blue eyes carried a lot of curiosity.
Daphne hated lying to her friends. She could not confide about Becksbridge’s bequest, however, without telling far more than she had ever told anyone. None of it was a story for Verity’s ears.
“I decided to take advantage of Audrianna’s offer to use her house, to enjoy a few diversions while I meet with some families who have expressed interest in contracting with The Rarest Blooms.” It was all true, just a bit out of order, and the reference to furthering her trade an inspired impulse.
Verity looked at her blandly. She knew it was not the whole story, but, Daphne was sure, she would not pry to learn more.
Verity fingered the lace that edged her gloves. “I did not realize you knew him. Castleford, that is. He was not at Celia’s wedding in the spring. He rarely attends weddings, since they are in the mornings and most mornings he is . . . well, his schedules are reported to be other than most people’s.”
“We made each other’s acquaintance recently.”
“You must have impressed him. He is planning a dinner party, and it is all because of you.”
He was?
“Celia mentioned it when she wrote. We are all to be invited. It will probably be in a fortnight or so.”
“How kind of him.”
“There is that side to him, but it is rarely seen and never predictable. Normally his every thought is selfish, and his rare activity is meddlesome. Despite that, I like him, perhaps because when he meddled in my direction it was one of those rare moments of kindness. Still,
woe unto someone who piques his curiosity
. That is what Hawkeswell says.” Verity mimicked her husband’s resonant voice, then dissolved into giggles.
woe unto someone who piques his curiosity
. That is what Hawkeswell says.” Verity mimicked her husband’s resonant voice, then dissolved into giggles.
Daphne wished she found it as humorous as her friend did. Castleford did have a habit of periodically rising out of his stupor to meddle, normally to great success. In Verity’s case, he had made a rare effort to help the mill owner’s daughter gain some acceptance when she entered society on her earl’s arm. The meeting Castleford had attended this morning with Celia’s husband Jonathan was the result of another time where he meddled in something not at all his business.
Unfortunately, this summer it appeared he was going to squander his brilliance on the curiosity named Daphne Joyes.
Woe unto her, indeed.
“I wonder if Audrianna and Lord Sebastian will return for the dinner,” Verity said.
“I will write and advise she not make the journey. I may not even attend myself. It is not my intention to dally here very long.”
“There would be no point in it at all if you did not attend. Castleford must have misunderstood the length of your visit.”
Hardly.
“Well, we must find a way to all enjoy a diversion together while you are here,” Verity said. “I will put my mind to it and consult with Celia. Town is quiet in summer, but we should be able to find something we can all do. A picnic, perhaps. Castleford would probably find that boring, however.”
“There is no need to invite him, then. Is there?”
Verity shrugged and donned her bonnet again. “I must go. If you find it too lonely here, you are welcome to stay with us. I don’t know why you did not write and ask to do so in the first place. You would not be an intrusion, Daphne. I know that you and Hawkeswell did not rub on well together at first, but he is very fond of you now. In fact, he asked for any news about you just two days ago.”
Daphne saw her out. She wished she could believe that Hawkeswell would not mind a guest, but to say they had not rubbed on well together was being polite. She wanted to believe that as Castleford arranged this, he had been sensitive to that.
All the same, she guessed that she was not visiting with Verity mostly because Castleford did not want her visiting with Verity.
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