The Irresistible Rogue (Playful Brides #4)(33)

“Whatever do you mean?” Lucy asked, sipping from a champagne flute.

Daphne closed her eyes. “What if Lord Fitzwell doesn’t offer for me tonight?”

“Then he’s a fool,” Jane stated loyally. Daphne smiled at that. Jane had a book in her hand and while she was tapping her foot in time to the music, Daphne knew she’d much rather be off in a quiet corner somewhere reading. It was nice of Mrs. Upton to come to the ball tonight, for Daphne’s sake.

Cass searched Daphne’s face. “Do you have any reason to believe Lord Fitzwell won’t offer for you?”

Daphne shook her head. “No, but I have yet to see him tonight. Perhaps his nosebleed was more serious than we thought.”

Lucy winced. “Yes, that was extremely unfortunate, but don’t worry, dear. I’m sure he’s fine and you’ve only just arrived. You have all evening.”

Daphne twisted her third finger. “I know. I know. But…” She glanced around. “Where’s Julian? The last time I saw him he said he was coming to find you, Cass.”

“Oh, he found me.” Cass laughed. “He stopped by briefly after escorting you in but I do believe he’s already retired to the study.”

“With my husband, of course.” Lucy snorted.

“And mine,” Jane added, pushing up her spectacles on her nose.

“It’s funny how married men aren’t particularly keen on dancing.” Cass shook her head.

“Yes. Quite unfortunate,” Lucy replied. “As they tend to make the best partners.”

All of the ladies laughed at that.

“It’s a pity we don’t have some sort of plot to keep us occupied these days,” Lucy said, tapping a finger against her cheek.

Daphne was barely listening. Instead, she was standing on tiptoe and craning her neck. “Where’s Captain Cavendish?” She returned her attention to her friends in time to see the three of them exchange a knowing glance. Daphne tugged at her necklace.

“Do you mean Lord Fitzwell?” Lucy asked Daphne, a sly smile on her face. Cass gave Lucy a warning look. Daphne pressed her hand to her middle again. She just might cast up her accounts after all. Did Cass know? Daphne hoped the duchess hadn’t told what she saw in the library the other night but perhaps she had changed her mind.

“I was merely wondering if Captain Cavendish was in the study with the other gentlemen.” Daphne did her best to answer the question with nonchalance but even she heard the edge to her voice. “I cannot afford to have him poking his nose into my courtship with Lord Fitzwell. He behaved quite outrageously today during charades.”

“That’s true enough,” Lucy allowed. Her champagne glass dangled from her gloved fingers.

“I do believe Captain Cavendish is in the study as well. Though I haven’t seen him,” Cass added.

Daphne began to breathe a sigh of relief but stopped herself. Why wasn’t Rafe out here trying to cause more trouble? Had he given up? Did he no longer intend to keep an eye on her? Did he no longer think she needed him? Or was he merely sufficiently chagrined by his own rude behavior during charades this afternoon? And how dare he say that she’d had every blow softened for her by her family. It was preposterous. It was outrageous. It was … The memory of her asking Julian to throw Rafe out of the house and secure the annulment flashed through her mind. Very well. Rafe had a small—very small—point. She would stop asking Julian for help. She didn’t need him to handle Rafe. She could deal with him herself. The memory of her asking Delilah to help her keep him distracted flashed through her mind. Fiddle. Why was she thinking about Rafe at any rate? She needed to find Lord Fitzwell.

“I think it’s high time we went into the study and brought the menfolk back out,” said Jane. “They may be enjoying a bit of brandy and some male talk but I, for one, would like a suitable dance partner.”

Cass nodded. “You’re perfectly right, Janie. Not to mention Julian needs to remain available if he’s to entertain a proposal from Lord Fitzwell.” She patted Daphne’s arm.

Daphne gulped. This was it. The night of the engagement.

“Don’t worry, Daphne,” Lucy said. “We’ll help you. Just leave everything to us.”





CHAPTER TWENTY




The night was more than half through by the time Daphne found herself standing in a group with Julian, Cass, Lucy, and Derek. “Has Lord Fitzwell asked to speak with you alone, Julian?” she asked, twisting her ring finger.

“Not since the last time you asked me. What was that, twenty minutes ago?” Julian replied. The men had been summoned from the study by their wives and had danced, laughed, and drank their way through the evening. The only problem was, every time Daphne caught a glimpse of Lord Fitzwell, he seemed to disappear.

Cass nudged her husband. “Be kind. Daphne is having a difficult evening.”

Cass was correct on that score. Not only had Lord Fitzwell not yet asked to speak to Daphne’s brother, let alone her, she’d only ever danced with him once and they’d barely said two words to each other. What was happening? He intended to offer for her, didn’t he? He’d been courting her for weeks. They’d gone on rides in the park. He’d introduced her to his mother. They’d talked. They’d laughed. They’d enjoyed each other’s company. Or so she’d thought. He’d accepted the invitation here this weekend. She couldn’t be wrong about it. She just couldn’t.