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She had laughed it off and told him, “Well, being a duchess is not something I think I would like. In fact, the formality of the entire thing would leave me quite blue-deviled.”
His eyes had gone dark for a long moment as he seemed to be considering an answer, but he said only, “No, we cannot have you blue-deviled, ever, but you know, your sentiments are what make you perfect for such a title.”
Perfect? He had repeated this to her over and over during the course of their lovemaking, but she wasn’t—was she?
No, she was a liar.
She still had not told him the entire truth. She still had not even told her him her real surname. What would he think of her? Oh, she would have to confess the whole … soon. Very soon, but for now, for this moment, with the hot water soothing her loins and allowing her to drift into the memory of their night, well, that was all she wanted to think about.
* * *
Lady Daphne was not enjoying the lovely morning or the promise of a ‘new day’.
She pushed her breakfast away with some disgust, for she had just sustained another visit from young Scott’s father. The squire had been in a terrible mood, she was at a loss as to what to do next, and the hour was not even ten o’clock yet.
He had ranted and raved and told her this problem had to be dealt with but offered no clue as to how they should handle it. He said if he didn’t know it was a bad idea, he would send off the Bow Street Runners to find and return the wayward children home.
Bow Street Runners, indeed! She had snorted at such a suggestion and advised him that nothing could produce a scandal more than such action.
It was time, she believed, to send for her dear Freddy. He would know what to do. He always took things in stride and handled them to perfection. It was, however, entirely possible that he would tell her to wash her hands of the miserable affair. Not their problem to worry about, after all, and if he did tell her that, he would have a very good point. She had better not write him, for he might just take her home, and for all her irritation she was loathe to allow a scandal to attach itself to her despicable brother.
What, then?
Drat her brother and her loyalty to him, and damn the love she felt for him. Drat, drat, and double drat!
It was at this auspicious moment that the Easton butler arrived with a silver salver upon which rested a note.
He bent and apologized, saying, “My lady, I am very sorry, but it appears that this arrived for you yesterday and was somehow set aside.”
She thanked him and took the sealed envelope. She saw her brother’s handwriting at once and asked, “How was it waylaid?”
“The new day girl. I was in the back helping with Cook, and the flighty thing forgot to tell me that it had arrived.”
“Very well, but do speak to her about this lapse.”
“Indeed, m’lady. I already have.”
She smiled and after watching his retreat returned with a sigh to her brother’s missive and read:
Dearest Daffy, best of all females,
Ha, she thought, and continued to read.
I am delayed. Perhaps you should return to London, for I have a notion that if I keep you kicking your heels at Easton with a countrified green girl, you and your Freddy will have my head!
Forgive me. Tell the child I shall try and fetch her before the end of the month and mean to make it up to her with a grand London season.
Yours,
Glen
“Well!” said his enraged sister out loud. “This is too much. Best of all females, am I? This is intolerable. How dare he put the poor Easton child off like that, for he doesn’t know she has run off, does he?”
She sighed and answered herself under her breath, “What to do?”
Well, she couldn’t very well hobble back to London to advise him that his ward had run away with a local squire’s son. It also made no sense to stay on here either.
What she needed to do was find her brother and drag him about by his ears until he took charge of this awful situation.
