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“I understand, but do try to have compassion,” Thomas said with a troubled frown. “His wife just had a baby.”
“I don’t care,” Phineas replied. “He could have killed my cousin with his incompetence.”
“There is no need to dismiss anyone,” Daphne argued.
Phineas shook his head. “I disagree,” he declared. “You don’t want incompetent people working for you, at any level.”
“But I only sustained scrapes and bruises.”
“This time,” Phineas pressed. “Next time, you could be killed.”
Daphne turned her pleading eyes towards her grandmother. “Please don’t have this man dismissed on my account,” she insisted. “It was merely an accident.”
Her grandmother considered her for a long moment. Finally, she remarked, “If that is your wish, I shall respect it.”
“Thank you, Grandmother,” Daphne said.
Phineas huffed. “This is no way to run a household,” he declared. “You must have a firm hand, or your servants won’t respect you.” He turned his attention towards Mr. Stewart. “Don’t you agree, Guy?”
Mr. Stewart met Daphne’s gaze. “I must side with Miss Locke on this. I find her compassion to be admirable.”
“Not you, too!” Phineas shouted, tossing his hands in the air. “You are all fools!”
As her cousin stormed off, Daphne smiled at Mr. Stewart. “Thank you for agreeing with me, despite Phineas’ loud protests.”
“He was speaking rather loudly, but I have learned to discount most of what he says,” Mr. Stewart responded, his lips twitching.
Her grandmother turned her attention towards Thomas. “Please ask the grooms to be extra diligent in looking for burrs when saddling a horse, and inform them that no one will lose their job—this time.”
A relieved look came to Thomas’ face. “I will, my lady, and thank you.” He bowed before he backed out of the room.
Daphne’s grandmother sat down on the settee next to her. “I don’t think I have ever been as afraid as when Phineas told me that you were upended off your horse,” she admitted.
“I am fine, Grandmother,” she reassured her.
“You were lucky, then.”
“That I was,” she readily agreed.
Her grandmother reached for her hand. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of losing you,” she murmured.
Mr. Stewart cleared his throat, looking rather uncomfortable. “I should be going.”
“Must you?” Daphne asked boldly.
He gave her a weak smile. “I wouldn’t wish to overstay my welcome.”
“Would you care to dine with us again this evening?” she asked, holding her breath in anticipation of his response.
She could see the uncertainty in his eyes, and she feared that he would decline. But to her surprise, he replied, “I would be honored to.”
“I shall see you at eight, then.”
He bowed. “Until then, Miss Locke.” He turned his attention towards her grandmother and offered another bow. “Lady Frances.”
After he departed from the room, her grandmother lifted her wrinkled brow at her. “You invited Mr. Stewart to dine with us again?”
“I did,” Daphne replied. “I do hope that isn’t a problem.”
