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“What if I do not find that kind of love?”
“You will,” her grandmother said.
“How can you be so sure?”
Her grandmother’s lips twitched. “I have my reasons.”
She was about to ask what those were when Phineas staggered into the room, a drink in his hand. He dropped into an upholstered chair, spilling his drink onto the rug.
“I am home,” he declared.
Her grandmother frowned. “You are drunk.”
“Yes, but in my defense, I have been drunk for many, many hours,” Phineas replied as he held up what was left of his drink.
“That isn’t a defense,” Daphne muttered.
Phineas turned his bloodshot gaze towards her. “I understand you handed out supplies to the coal miners today, Cousin.”
“I did.”
“Well done!” he exclaimed. “You once again have proven that I am the black sheep of the family.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“No?” he asked. “Then was it to make me look like a fool to the other patrons of the pub?”
“It was not. How could my actions at the colliery affect you there?”
Phineas huffed. “Someone ran into the pub looking for volunteers to help dig out the survivors at the coal mine.”
“Why didn’t you go?”
Phineas gave her an exasperated look. “I am a gentleman,” he declared. “I cannot sully my hands by working alongside common folk.”
“How noble of you,” she said.
“And you are so droll.” Phineas took a long, lingering sip of his drink. “You only want to help the less fortunate and be a do-gooder,” he said. “It is exhausting.”
“I’m sorry you perceive me that way.”
“You were raised to be a proper lady,” Phineas remarked. “If you came to London with me, you could buy yourself a title with your inheritance.”
“I do not aspire for a title.”
Phineas glanced over at his grandmother, then said, “Everyone wants a title. To pretend you don’t is just laughable.”
Daphne tensed. “Frankly, I have no desire to go to London with you.”
“Fine,” Phineas spat out. “You would be eaten alive by the gossips anyway. You are too much of a country bumpkin to ever fit in.”
“That is enough, Phineas,” their grandmother ordered.
Phineas tossed back the rest of his drink and slammed the glass onto the table. “I don’t know why you wish to waste your money on her,” he whined. “She has set her cap at Mr. Stewart.”
“I have not,” Daphne declared.
Phineas shifted his body towards his grandmother. “Do you truly wish all of your money to go to a man who is nothing?” he asked. “Because if Daphne marries Guy, then he will live in this manor and eat your food.”
