The Irresistible Rogue (Playful Brides #4)(25)

“I know lots of things.”

“You are a wicked little eavesdropper and if I didn’t like you so well, I’d beat you.”

“I doubt beating would work on me, Cousin Daphne. I’m far too stubborn.”

“Isn’t that true?”

Delilah’s face lit up. “So, you’ll let me come with you on Sunday?”

Daphne slapped the hairbrush to the tabletop. “Absolutely not. You cannot come with me on Sunday. It’s far too dangerous. And you’re not to mention that to anyone, either, do you hear me?”

Delilah shrugged. “Very well. I’ll make do with the pin money and the ball gowns.”

“That’s quite big of you. Now, tell me. Did Captain Cavendish say when he intended to leave?” Surely, if he’d stayed for breakfast, he’d be gone by now.

“No. In fact, I’m certain I heard him tell Julian that he’d be up for a game of piquet with him in the study later.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am. Seems Capitaine Cavendish has no intention of leaving here today.”

Daphne plunked her hands on her hips. “We’ll just see about that.”

Delilah picked up her plate of teacakes and made her way to the door. “Well, do come down and see him.”

“I intend to do just that.”

“And don’t worry, Cousin Daphne,” Delilah said as she danced out of the door. “I won’t tell Auntie that you’re married to him.”





CHAPTER FIFTEEN




Daphne scurried down the stairs and into the front hall like a hare being chased by a hound. Instead of a hound, Delilah was close on her heels. Delilah had returned to the kitchens for more teacakes and then came back to find her cousin. After some additional negotiation on Daphne’s part that involved offering Delilah an even larger portion of her pin money and one of her favorite silken fans, Delilah had agreed to keep her mouth shut about everything she knew.

“I wonder if they’re still in the breakfast room?” Daphne peered into the corridor that led to that room.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Delilah nudged her shoulder.

Daphne straightened up and lifted her chin. Her cousin was right. If Rafe was still skulking about, she might as well confront him and get it over with. “Follow me.”

Delilah’s obvious look of delight was followed by a great deal of hand clapping.

“Stop that, you’re making a racket.”

Delilah sighed. “That is one of my specialties, Cousin Daphne.”

Daphne shook her head and motioned for her cousin to stay behind her. The two made their way down the corridor and into the breakfast room. All of the men present stood as soon as they walked into the room. Daphne scanned their faces. Rafe was there. She glared at him.

“Good morning, Lady Daphne,” Lord Fitzwell said with a bow. He was wearing a well-cut emerald-green coat and brown breeches and Hessians. Quite dapper.

She beamed at him. “Good morning, my lord.”

He sat back down and returned his attention to his paper. Daphne turned to her mother, pointedly ignoring Rafe for the moment. He continued to stand.

“Good morning, darling,” her mother said.

“Good morning, Aunt,” Delilah shot back.

“Delilah, I’ve already seen you this morning. Where did you put that plate of teacakes you left with? I do hope they aren’t under your bed like last time. We’ll get another mouse.”

Jane Upton looked up from her book, obviously interested in the fate of the teacakes.

“Oh no, Aunt,” Delilah said. “This time I left them in Cousin Daphne’s room. There would never be a mouse in Cousin Daphne’s room.”

“Lady Daphne wouldn’t stand for it,” Rafe said.

“What was that?” Daphne snapped her head to the side to look at him.

“Nothing.” Rafe gave her a tight smile.

Daphne frowned at him. Why did he always have to look so handsome? He was wearing a dark gray topcoat, silver waistcoat, and tight black breeches with top boots. The man knew how to fill out a pair of breeches, she thought wistfully as she caught a glimpse of his backside when he turned. She glanced over to where Lord Fitzwell sat, his face nearly buried in the newspaper. What did Lord Fitzwell’s backside look like? She’d never noted it.

“Come sit,” Mother offered, pulling out a chair near Lord Fitzwell. Mother addressed her remarks to the rest of the room. “I was thinking everyone could take a rest after breakfast and then we’ll meet in the drawing room for charades before lunch.”

“Oh, goody. Charades,” Sir Roderick Montague drawled from behind his newspaper across the table. He folded down one corner and rolled his eyes at Daphne. She gave him a warning glance.

“I quite enjoy charades,” Lord Fitzwell offered, setting down his paper. “Don’t you, Lady Daphne?”

But Daphne was staring at Rafe, who still had that godforsaken grin on his face. Daphne cleared her throat and answered Lord Fitzwell. “I’d very much like to discuss charades with you, my lord. But first I wondered if I might have a word with you, Captain.” She leveled her gaze on Rafe.

Rafe’s brow arched, but he flourished a hand in front of him as if allowing her to lead the way. “By all means.”