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“Have you told Grandmother this?”
“I have, but she isn’t very sympathetic to my plight.”
“Why is that?”
He had the decency to look ashamed. “She told me that I should have spent less money on gambling and my mistresses.”
“She isn’t wrong.”
Phineas frowned. “You are just a woman,” he said. “You can’t possibly understand the pressures that come from running an estate.”
“I shall be learning soon enough, since Grandmother has asked our steward to teach me.”
“You will fail,” Phineas declared, pointing a finger at her, “and then you will be asking me for help.”
“I do not intend to do so.”
“Women don’t have the cognizance to run estates,” Phineas pressed. “Your education is lacking in many regards.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence.”
Phineas lowered his hand to his side. “It is just a simple fact,” he replied. “Women have delicate constitutions and aren’t able to make tough decisions. They require a firm hand to guide them.”
Daphne lifted her brow. “Are you quite finished?”
“No,” he replied with a shake of his head. “We both know that money is rightfully mine, and I do not intend to let it go without a fight.”
“Then I wish you luck.”
As they stared at one another, the butler stepped into the room. “Mr. Huxley is here to call upon Miss Locke,” Barrow announced, turning his gaze towards her. “Are you available, Miss?”
“I am,” she replied.
Phineas narrowed his eyes. “This conversation is not over.” He spun on his heel and departed from the room.
Daphne remained rooted in her spot as Sarah stepped into the room and sat in the corner. She had just smiled at the young maid when Mr. Huxley entered the drawing room. He was dressed in an emerald green jacket, dark trousers, and a white cravat, looking very much like the dandy she perceived him to be.
“Good morning, Miss Locke,” Mr. Huxley greeted.
She forced a smile to her lips. “Good morning, Mr. Huxley,” she replied. “How may I help you?”
He took a step closer to her and reached for her hand. “I wanted to come by and see how you are faring,” he said before he kissed the air above her knuckles.
“I am well,” she replied, resisting the urge to cringe at his touch.
“That pleases me to hear,” he remarked as he released her hand.
Daphne gestured towards the settee as she created more distance between them. “Would you care to sit, Mr. Huxley?”
“My name is Albert, if you don’t mind,” he said with a flirtatious smile.
“It would be entirely inappropriate to call you by your given name,” Daphne replied, her back rigid.
“You used to call me that when we were children.”
“But we are not children anymore.”
Mr. Huxley perused the length of her. “That is true. You have grown into the most beautiful young woman.”
