The first was addressed to both she and Lord Dalton and was a formal invitation to an assembly at Ramsgate for Tuesday next. The second was a handwritten note to Daisy. She read it as Mrs. Jellops peered over her shoulder.
Dear Miss Danworth – I am well aware you are meant to be in mourning, however, the more one knew Lord Childress, the less one actually mourns him. As I am to be in this town for a week to survey the harbor and give my considered opinion, which of course would take a quarter hour but for the ceremonial displays I must also witness, I require amusements of my own making. Do attend my assembly and blast whoever says you ought to be at home weeping—I cannot abide false sadness. Bring your lady companion if you like—if I remember rightly, she is a jolly enough personage.
Daisy showed the note to Miss Minkerton and Lord Burke. Miss Minkerton said, “Goodness, that is a familiar sort of sentiment.”
Daisy smiled. “I have met the prince on a few occasions, on the last he told me he found me charming because I was not overawed by him.”
“His mistake was in thinking Miss Danworth is overawed byanybody,” Lord Dalton said.
“But shall you go?” Miss Minkerton asked.
“I suppose I must,” Daisy said, “as he’s added the personal note.”
“He may not be the cleverest soul alive,” Mrs. Jellops said, “but he read Lord Childress right enough. Though, am I jolly? I suppose I can be on occasion. Well, it’s nice to be remembered.”
“You must tell me all about it,” Miss Minkerton said. “Who was there, what they wore, what did the prince say to you…”
“I suspect you’ll receive your own invitation,” Daisy said, “I doubt the prince will care if you were out a few months ago or coming out a few months from now. Ramsgate is a small society and he will leave no stone unturned.”
“I should not know what to say,” Miss Minkerton said.
“Do not fear that particular problem, Miss Minkerton,” Lord Dalton said drily, “he will do all the talking. Just pretend at deep interest while he tells you of the building of his pavilion, which never seems to end.”
Miss Minkerton looked to Lord Burke and he nodded reluctantly, as if to indicate that it was entirely true, though he was loath to admit it.
Behind Lord Burke, Daisy saw a shadow move past the window. She clutched at Lord Dalton’s sleeve.
“It is only a watchman,” he said quietly.
She let go and felt herself a fool. Of course it was a watchman—they had been ordered to prowl the perimeter around the house. Still, she was grateful that the lord would be back in the cottage and Mrs. Broadbent would continue her reign in the bedchamber next door.
News of an assembly held by the Prince of Wales did nothing to solve the mystery of who had broken into the house, what they were looking for, or if they would try again. There was also no explanation for why Lord Dalton was convinced he’d been pulled under water. She could only hope that dear Kitty could shed some light on what on earth a Dagobert was.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Mrs. Jellops had fallen asleep as soon as her head had touched her pillow, that lady perhaps taking two extra glasses of Madeira to settle her nerves after the excitement of hooves clattering on the drive and the gentlemen going out to meet the danger only armed with fire pokers.
Daisy was not tired, though. She blew out the candle and curled up on the window seat, allowing the night breeze to cool her. Lord Dalton’s cottage was well lit, Bellamy no doubt making free with baskets of candles for his use. The lord was not in the cottage, though. He was out of doors, sitting on the bench that seemed to be his usual place, his dark outline illuminated by the light shining through his windows.
He held a glass and Daisy assumed it was from the brandy decanter that had gone missing from the library. She had at first wondered if it had been Bellamy and the footmen who’d made off with it, but discarded the idea when she considered that Mrs. Broadbent was all-seeing and all-knowing. She would have noted it and given them thewhat for.
She did not begrudge Lord Dalton his brandy, or the other things his butler and valet had swiped from the house. She was more amused than anything, sometimes seeing one of them furtively cross the lawn with something under his arm.
Daisy bit her lip as she watched a thin and scraggly-looking tabby cat hop up on the bench and Lord Dalton pat its head. It appeared a rangy creature and no doubt riddled with fleas. She had not been entirely sure that news of the cat had been real. She had begun to think it might have only been Mrs. Broadbent amusing herself at Mr. Deer’s expense.
She could not help thinking what would have happened to the creature if her father was still in residence. He would have ordered it poisoned or grabbed it by the tail and swung it over the garden wall. He had always been cruel toward animals, even his own, and Daisy had early come to the conclusion that it was a hallmark of a bad nature.
Long ago, when she’d been eight or so, she had been out for a walk with a maid when she encountered her father on the road, speaking to the Duke of Somerston. In an attempt to appear the indulgent father, he’d reminded her that he’d said she could buy herself a puppy. He’d never said it and she never did—she was too afraid of what might happen to any poor creature she dared bring into the house.
The cat made itself at home on Lord Dalton’s lap. Daisy peered down, certain the lord would instantly shoo the creature off.
He did not. He only patted its head again.
How strange.
Lord Dalton rose, and rather than the cat falling to the ground as she would expect, he swept it up under one arm and carried it into the cottage.
Daisy leaned back and sighed. He certainly was an enigmatic sort of person. What kind of gentleman went about so grim and then was kind to a cat? A rather unpleasant-looking cat, as far as she could tell.
