And the Miss Ran Away With the Rake(9)

Though they hadn’t been so ill-mannered to say it thusly in Tabitha’s hearing.

“I have been discussing the matter with my mother,” Daphne told them. Discussing it was not quite the right way to describe the situation.

When Daphne had broached the subject, her mother had gone straight to her bed and spent two straight days encamped there, crying and wailing over the request, certain that taking her only daughter, her unwed daughter, to a Seldon house party was akin to consigning her to the nearest house of ill-repute.

Everyone knew the Seldons practiced the worst sort of debauchery, but out in the country? Well away from the prying eyes of society, who knew what sort of depravity they would witness, be subjected to . . .

We will all be ruined. Or worse, her mother had wailed and complained to her sympathetic husband.

What exactly “worse” implied, Daphne didn’t know. She only hoped that Tabitha wouldn’t soon regret her marriage into such a notorious family and especially to its infamous duke. And his equally notorious relations—whom Daphne had managed to avoid meeting thus far.

“Of course she is coming to your wedding,” Lady Essex said, handing her fan to Miss Manx. “If your mother can see fit to allow you to attend the engagement ball, surely she will set aside her own prejudices and allow you to attend the duke’s house party. Why, half the ton is mad for an invitation, and the other half is just plain mad over not getting one. Your mother is no fool, Daphne Dale.”

That might be true, Daphne wanted to tell Lady Essex, but her mother was a Dale through and through—both by marriage and birth. Her disdain of the Seldons was born not from a lifetime of distrust but from generations of enmity.

“At least you are here tonight,” Tabitha said, smiling. “She didn’t forbid you to come to my engagement ball.”

Daphne pressed her lips together, for her mother had not exactly given her permission to attend.

Quite the opposite.

Certainly she had meant to keep her promise to her mother when she’d left Kempton and come to London with Tabitha that she would not spend a moment more than was necessary in the company of the Seldons.

Certainly tonight would suffice as “necessary,” with the likelihood of meeting Mr. Dishforth so close at hand.

Even if it meant enduring a dance with Preston’s uncle, Lord Henry Seldon.

Oh, it was a wretched notion, though.

“You’re thinking about Lord Henry, aren’t you?” Harriet said, giving her a nudge with her elbow.

“Please do not pull such a face when he comes to collect you,” Tabitha added.

“I wasn’t thinking of Lord Henry, nor am I pulling a face,” Daphne lied, forcing a smile onto her lips.

“You are and you were,” Harriet said. Sometimes there was no getting anything past her.

“Traitor,” Daphne whispered.

“Not my feud,” Harriet replied with a shrug.

Meanwhile, Tabitha stood there, arms crossed and slipper tapping impatiently.

“Oh, bother both of you!” Daphne said. “Yes, I promise I will appear the most gracious and contented lady in the room when I have to dance with him.”

“I don’t see what has you in such a state,” Harriet said. “From what Roxley says, Preston’s uncle is a most amiable fellow. A bit of a dullard, really.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Lady Essex clucked. “Whatever are you doing, Harriet, listening to that rapscallion nephew of mine? His opinions hardly hold any credit. And Miss Timmons is correct, Miss Dale, you cannot go to the supper dance pulling such a face. Just dance with Lord Henry and be done with the matter.”

“How many times do I have to explain it?” Daphne huffed with a sigh of exasperation. “He’s a Seldon. If my family discovers I have danced with him, supped with him . . .”

She stopped herself right there.

Every time she thought of dancing with Lord Henry, she saw quite clearly every Dale Bible across England being opened and her name being vehemently scratched out.

And in some cases gouged out.

Great-Aunt Damaris would waste no time in ordering a new one in which would be inscribed a reordered family lineage.

One that did not include Daphne.

“Daphne, I do not know what has come over you,” Tabitha scolded. “I thought you’d come to like Preston.”

“Oh, he seems to have come around,” she admitted, “but I think that has more to do with your influence, Tabitha, and nothing to do with his inherent Seldon nature.”