And the Miss Ran Away With the Rake(100)

Against her better judgment, Daphne stopped. “Excuse me?”

“That bit of pique. It brightened you up a bit. I fear you were starting to look a bit pale. A man likes his bride with a starry-eyed gaze and a bit of a blush to her.”

She glanced over at him, feeling a lot of her color rushing into her cheeks. “I’ve already taken up too much of your time. Good-bye, Lord Henry.” She stopped short of adding, Good riddance.

Lord Henry ignored her, went over to the door and pushed it open. “Miss Dale, wild horses couldn’t drag me away from witnessing your happy union.”

From over Daphne’s shoulder, Henry winked at the innkeeper. This is the one I told you about.

The man barely nodded, giving Henry a nearly imperceptible answer. Gotcha, gov’ner.

Even the lad on the stool by the fire knew his role, for he said not a thing.

Henry had been most honest with Miss Dale when he’d said he’d gotten up early and gone for a walk. He had. To this very inn to set up the tableau which was about to play out.

It was all he could do not to grin.

For in the next few minutes, Daphne would find out that Dishforth had departed, and he, Henry, would be right there to soothe her broken heart. The perfect time to make his case and show her exactly why he was the only gentleman for her.

And such a plan might have worked if he had tried it on someone a little less determined, a far sight more malleable than Daphne Dale.

Certainly there should be a furrowed look of concern on her face—for here was the common room, empty, with no sign of Dishforth. Shouldn’t she appear, at the very least, a bit crestfallen?

Not Miss Dale.

She marched up to the serving board and nodded politely to the innkeeper. “Sir, I am to meet a gentleman here. Where might he be?”

The innkeeper bore a patient expression. Truly, in Henry’s estimation he was on par with Keen in his acting ability. “A gentleman, you say?”

“Yes, he said he would be waiting here for me,” she explained. “His coach and four are outside. Will you please summon him and let him know that Miss Dale is here.”

The man’s gaze narrowed. “A coach and four?”

“Yes, the one outside.”

Shaking his head, the innkeeper said, “The coach outside belongs to the inn. We let it out. Do you need a coach, miss?”

“No, I don’t need a coach,” she said. “The gentleman I was to meet was bringing his. Might he be summoned, please?”

Lord Henry leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and watched her with nothing less than awe. What a determined slip of muslin she was.

The innkeeper shook his head. “Miss, there is no one else about. Just you and his lordship.” He nodded toward Henry, who did his best to look mildly concerned—at least for her sake. Besides, everything was working perfectly. All the innkeeper had to do was explain—

She frowned at Lord Henry and leaned closer to the innkeeper so her query wasn’t so public.

Not that it wasn’t easy to hear.

“I am looking for a gentleman.” She leaned closer still. “Mr. Dishforth.”

“Mr. Dishforth?” He scratched his chin.

“Yes, a gentleman of some respectability. He was to meet me here.”

“Oh, that gentleman,” the innkeeper said, snapping his fingers. “I fear, miss, he left.”

“Left?”

“Yes, he already left. In a hurry, you might say.”

Miss Dale stepped back from the board. “But whyever would he have left?”

“I can’t say, miss. He was here and then he was gone.” The innkeeper shrugged, then picked up a tankard and began polishing it with a cloth.

Truly, Lord Henry felt guilty about this deception, but it was better this way. Certainly it had to be.

“He left?” she asked, then shook her head. “He can’t have left. He wouldn’t have left. You are mistaken.”

Of course she wasn’t going to believe that her loyal Dishforth would abandon her, so Lord Henry had taken the precaution of adding another player to this scene.

“Oh, aye, miss,” the lad by the fire piped up. “The grand gentleman left, oh, say, an hour ago. Mayhap two it was.”

“No, he wouldn’t have,” she told the boy, tears brimming up in her eyes. “He wouldn’t have left. Not without me.”

My dearest, beloved Miss Spooner. When we meet at the inn, we shall never be parted ever again.