The Irresistible Rogue (Playful Brides #4)(30)

She tried to resume her flowerlike stance but couldn’t manage much. She wanted to run from the room. She glanced desperately at Sir Roderick and gave him a pleading look.

“A sunflower!” he shouted.

Daphne expelled her breath. Thank heavens for Roddy.

She nodded quickly.

“Well done,” Lord Berkeley said to Sir Roderick, clapping him on the back.

“I’ll go next,” Lucy gamely offered.

“Yes, please do,” Daphne replied, moving away from the center of the room. She cleared her throat and stopped next to her cousin’s chair. “Delilah, may I please speak to you in the next room?”





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN




“Let me ensure that I understand you correctly,” Delilah said, pacing slowly across the rug in the drawing room next door to where the charades game was still taking place. Delilah’s hands were folded behind her back and her gamine little face was pulled up in a knowing smile. “You want me to distract Captain Cavendish?”

“Precisely.” Daphne nodded.

“And how exactly do you suggest I go about doing such a thing?”

“You know? Talk to him, follow him about, keep him from showing up every time I’m speaking with Lord Fitzwell. He seems to take great pleasure in causing me trouble and I’d like to see him stopped.”

“And in return for this service, you’ll give me what in exchange?” Delilah unfolded her arms from behind her back and tapped one finger against her plump little cheek.

Daphne sighed. Before this weekend was over, she might as well give her cousin all of her worldly possessions. “Name your price.”

Delilah’s eyes rounded. “Ooh, that is tempting.”

“Go ahead, you little urchin. What is it that you want?”

The finger continued to tap against Delilah’s cheek. “I want that new bonnet you purchased on Bond Street last week. J’adore it.”

“Done.”

“And…”

“And?” Daphne rubbed her temples. The girl knew how to bargain, she’d give her that.

“And I want you to—”

An unexpected rapping on the door interrupted their conversation. Rafe’s head appeared. “I do hate to interrupt, but it seems your poor Lord Fitzwell has become afflicted with a nosebleed. Your mother has called for some linens and he’s lying on the settee in the next room but the game of charades has decidedly come to an end.”

Daphne whirled to face Rafe. “Oh, heavens. Is he all right?”

“I expect him to be. It is only a nosebleed after all.” The scoffing in his voice was quite apparent.

“Yes, well, I’ll just allow you two to chat. Seems you may want to apologize to each other after that nastiness over charades. I’d begin with that.” Delilah trotted past Daphne.

“Where are you going?” Daphne called to her cousin. How could the girl even think of leaving now? “I thought we had an agreement,” Daphne added in a singsong voice.

“Nothing has been settled,” Delilah replied in the same singsong voice. “Besides, I’ve never seen a nosebleed before. I must go look.” She swept out the door and shut it behind her.

Daphne crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Rafe, who had entered the room and was even now looking down at her.

“I’m willing to accept your apology,” he said.

“My what! Oh, how magnanimous of you. The only problem is, I haven’t offered an apology.”

“Go ahead. I’ll wait.”

“You’ll be waiting till Hades has turned to ice. I have no intention of offering an apology.”

Rafe folded his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels. “That’s exceedingly rude of you.”

Daphne’s mouth fell open. “You just called me rude?”

“If the bonnet fits. You’re the one who essentially announced to the entire drawing room that I drink too much.”

She tossed a hand in the air. “That’s hardly news.”

Rafe cupped a hand beneath his chin and studied her. “You know what your problem is?”

Arms still crossed, she tapped her fingertips along her elbows. “I’m on tenterhooks to hear this.”

“Your problem is that in addition to being far too judgmental, you’re also far too coddled. Never a blow that hasn’t been softened for you by your family. Never a blow that won’t be softened.”

Daphne clenched her elbows so tightly they ached. “You don’t know anything about my life.”

“I think I do. Your every moment is planned to the smallest detail. Your clothing, your hair, what you’ll wear tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. What you’ll be doing next week and the next. You wrote a list of men to marry, for God’s sake, and scored them.”

“Who told you that?”

“Do you deny it?”

She simmered but kept her mouth firmly shut.

“You pretend to be outraged but if you’re angry it’s because you know there’s truth to what I’m saying. You’re more interested in titles and lineage than happiness.”

“That’s a lie!”

“Is it?” He sauntered over to her and leaned down. He was a scant inch from her face and Daphne’s damned traitorous knees weakened at the scent of him. “Tell me, Lady Daphne. Is my name on that list?”