The Irresistible Rogue (Playful Brides #4)(42)

“Grey.” He nodded at her.

“I’d offer you a drink, too, Daphne, but something tells me you’d turn it down tonight,” Swifdon said.

Daphne pressed her hand to her middle. “Ugh. I can barely countenance even seeing that vile liquid.”

“I understand,” Swifdon said to his sister. “Now, listen to me.”

She quickly turned her head toward her brother. Her face took on a serious demeanor.

“I know you’ve been angry with Cavendish, but emotions can get you killed in situations like this. You and Rafe must treat each other like cohorts. Your life may well depend on it.”

Daphne nodded once. “There is nothing emotional about this. I am entirely prepared to be nothing but proficient and do my duty.” She lifted her chin, her face reflecting her pride. “For the Crown.”

Rafe nearly let out a sigh of relief. He trusted this about Daphne. She wanted to find the men who killed Donald as much as he did and she would do what she must regardless of what had happened between them over the last two days.

“You can do this, Daphne,” Swifdon said. “I have no doubt. I would not allow you to go if I thought you were in danger. Cavendish will keep you safe.”

“I will keep myself safe,” Daphne replied, her face blank and determined. “Don’t worry for me, Julian.” She stepped forward and hugged her brother tightly. “I love you.”

Still hugging her, Swifdon said, “I love you, too, Daphne.”

She let go of her brother, cleared her throat, and turned to Rafe, obviously shaking off the tears that had threatened to spill from her eyes. “Shall we?” The tears had been quickly replaced by a glint of steel that told him she’d completely shut him out of her emotions. Good. It was better this way. They needed to treat each other like nothing more than two spies on a mission working for the greater good of the country.

He nodded once. “Let’s go.”

“Be safe, both of you,” Swifdon said.

Rafe and Daphne nodded.

Rafe held open the door and Daphne made her way through it, not acknowledging him. He followed her down the corridor, the steps, and toward the back door.

“Cousin Daphne!”

Daphne turned at the childlike female voice that came from behind them. “Delilah? What are you doing out of bed? You shouldn’t be down here.”

“I couldn’t allow you to leave without saying good-bye.” Delilah shook her head. “I mean, good luck. You’ll be a hero, Daphne. I know it.”

Daphne smiled at that. She squeezed the child’s shoulder. “Take care of Mother for me, Dee. And Cass and Julian.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Just don’t let Julian know you’re taking care of him.”

Delilah nodded and her dark curls bounced. “Consider it done. And please come back with many harrowing stories. J’adore a harrowing story.”

Daphne shook her head. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, Captain Cavendish,” came Delilah’s sweet voice.

Rafe turned back to look at the girl. “Yes?”

“I do hope you’ll be a gentleman while in the company of my cousin.”

Rafe struggled to keep the smile from his face. “Of course, Miss Montbank. I give you my word.”

“But not too much of a gentleman.” And with that, Delilah was gone.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE




Daphne marched out of the back door of her brother’s town house. Rafe followed her, but as soon as they entered the alley, she felt the shift in him. She was no longer Lady Daphne Swift to him. She was Thomas Grey, the cabin boy.

Rafe didn’t wait for her to precede him to where his mount was tied to a post near the mews. Instead, his long strides devoured the pebbled ground while she raced to keep up with him, pressing her cap onto her head to keep it from flying off.

Rafe had untied the horse by the time Daphne joined him. He swung up onto the animal, turned to her, and gave her a quick, unfeeling boost up, pulling her up behind him. Daphne quickly wrapped her hands around his hips as Rafe wasted no time sending the horse into a gallop. Daphne clung to him, praying her hat didn’t wing off into the night sky. She clenched her hands around his middle, and desperately tried to ignore the outline of Rafe’s flat muscled stomach beneath his coat and how good he smelled. Oh, fiddle. She was sniffing at his back. Idiot.

She needed to control herself. After all, she was going to be stuck with him in close quarters for up to a sennight. She needed to put a stop to these ludicrous thoughts. Julian had been right. There was no time for anger or pettiness. There was also no time for unwanted lust. They had a mission to accomplish and accomplish it, they would. This wasn’t about her. It was for Donald. And the Crown.

Rafe spoke to the horse and kicked at its flanks as they rode through the streets, headed for the docks at a brisk clip.

The ride was not long and Daphne soon noticed the change in not only the inhabitants of the streets, but also the sights and smells. The docks were full of sailors on leave, whores, mongers, and a general riffraff of folk she would never have been exposed to in her life as Lady Daphne. It smelled like brackish water and alcohol and what Daphne feared was urine. She remembered all of this from the last time she’d been here. Despite the unpleasant smells, a thrill shot through her. Being here again was an adventure. It was entirely different from her staid, laced-up life in Mayfair. Anything could happen here. Anything. Her blood sang through her veins with excitement.