The Irresistible Rogue (Playful Brides #4)(50)

“Yes. Was she responsible for Lord Fitzwell coming out into the gardens?”

Daphne eyed Rafe carefully. “Very astute of you, Captain. Yes. That little urchin admitted it to me the next day. She sent him out there. It seems she was never a proponent of my marrying Lord Fitzwell.”

“I can’t say I blame her,” Rafe replied.

Daphne laughed. “I daresay she’s the most opinionated twelve-year-old in the kingdom.”

Rafe shuffled the cards again. “I must agree with you there. I’d learned as much only having spent a brief time in her company.”

Rafe dealt again and won again.

Another sigh from Daphne. “You are good at this,” she admitted.

“I’ve had far too much practice,” Rafe replied. “In fact, I need to think of a question.”

He tugged at his lips and Daphne tried to ignore the memory of kissing those same lips. She looked up at the ceiling, over at the door, anywhere to keep her eyes from his handsome face.

“Here’s one,” he finally said. “Who is the next lucky gentleman on the list?”

Daphne furrowed her brow. “You mean the next one I chose? With Cass?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“It does to me, your husband.”

Daphne’s gaze snapped to his face. She took a deep breath. “I know you tried to help me, Rafe. I’ve had time to think about it since that night and I remember you tried to get me to stop talking, to salvage the engagement with Lord Fitzwell.”

Rafe glanced down at the cards that he’d gathered back into his hands. “I thought it was what you wanted.”

“I was a fool that night. But losing Lord Fitzwell. Well, it obviously wasn’t meant to be.”

For some reason, Rafe didn’t press her for the name of the next man on her list. She may have decided. But it didn’t feel right, either. She’d worry about that after she returned home. Instead, Rafe shuffled the cards soundly again and dealt them. This time he lost.

“Ah, seems my luck is running out,” he said. “What is your question?”

“Will you teach me how to be a spy?”

“What? Why?”

“You yourself just finished telling me how brave I am and how you respect me. I could be risking my life on this mission. I think I deserve to be trained in order to protect myself if I have to.”

Rafe was silent for a moment as if he were considering her words. “You’re right,” he said quietly.

Daphne’s eyes widened. “You’re going to teach me?”

“Yes. There’s no reason not to. First lesson, hand signals.”

Daphne sat up straight and watched him intently. Rafe rubbed the side of his nose. “This means I understand.”

Daphne rubbed her nose, too.

“You’ve got it,” he said.

Next he wiped his brow.

“What does that mean?” Daphne asked.

“It means watch your back.”

Twenty minutes later, Daphne felt as if she had a good understanding of a dozen different signals. She’d done them all more than once and practiced to remember each clearly. “Thank you,” she said softly to Rafe. “For teaching me.”

“Thank you for coming with me,” he replied. He shook his head and the casual devil-may-care Rafe was back. “Shall we play one more hand?” he offered, shuffling the cards again.

“Why not?”

Rafe dealt and Daphne won for a second time. She inhaled deeply and met his gaze. She knew exactly what she would ask him. “Why do you drink so much, Rafe?”

Rafe blinked as if surprised by the question. “I haven’t had a drink since we came on this ship. I didn’t touch my ale yesterday. Nor the drink your brother offered me the night we left his house.”

Daphne searched his face. “That didn’t answer my question. I’ve seen you go to the clubs with Derek. Always with a brandy glass in your hand when you visit Julian. I know you’ve been drinking too much for too long.”

“I’m not certain I know the answer to your question,” he admitted with a shaky laugh.

“I do,” Daphne said solemnly.

He rubbed a hand through his hair. “I wish you’d tell me, then.”

“You’re trying to forget about Donald’s death.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE




Daphne slept fitfully again. This time she dreamt of a blond woman in Rafe’s bed. She hadn’t imagined it back then. She’d seen it with her own two eyes. They’d been staying at an inn near the docks. They’d left the ship the final night thinking it was unsafe to be there. They’d got two rooms but they’d been adjoining so Rafe could keep an eye on Daphne and keep her safe. He barricaded her door to the corridor with a large armoire and helped her move it the next morning when she’d told him she wanted to go downstairs in search of some tea. Rafe had asked if she’d like him to fetch it for her, but she’d insisted on doing it herself.

When she’d come back upstairs, she’d brought him a cup, too. She’d pushed open the door to his room and there she was. The blond. Lying in his bed. Naked but for a sheet pulled up under her arms. Lavish and gorgeous and hair spilling around her shoulders. Heart pounding, Daphne had immediately dropped both teacups and turned and fled. She ran back down the stairs, and encountered Rafe coming up. Apparently, he’d gone downstairs to check on her.