The Irresistible Rogue (Playful Brides #4)(6)

“I didn’t say that, dear,” Cass replied. “I merely think it best for Julian to hear all of the facts before he makes a decision. Not to mention I’m quite curious to learn exactly what happened between you and Captain Cavendish that resulted in a wedding and your desire to get an annulment as soon as possible.”

“Very well,” Julian said, pouring his own drink. Brandy, not tea. “I’ll hear you out, Daphne, but you’d best make it quick. I’ve little patience for this.”

Cass finished pouring her own cup of tea and hurried over to the settee where she curled up and sipped while she listened.

Setting her teacup aside, Daphne resumed pacing in front of her brother’s desk, her hands folded in front of her. “You remember last year when Donald and Mama wrote to you and told you that I’d run off for a fortnight?”

Julian’s eyes nearly bugged from his skull. “Lower your voice.”

“I remember!” Cass piped up.

“I do, too. You never did explain what that escapade was about,” Julian said.

“Donald knew, part of it. But I never told Mama. I didn’t want to worry her. I’d convinced Rafe that he needed me for help on a mission. For the War Office.”

If Julian’s eyes had seemed to bug from his skull a moment ago, now they were in imminent danger of actually popping out and rolling about on the fine rug. He lunged from his seat and braced his hands on the desktop in front of him, looming over Daphne. “You accompanied Cavendish on a mission for the War Office? Are you mad? Is Cavendish mad? I’m going to murder him!”

“Now, Julian, you promised to hear Daphne out,” Cass quietly interjected.

Julian growled but slowly resumed his seat. “Go on,” he said through clenched teeth.

Daphne swallowed once but her voice was steady when she continued her pacing. “Yes, well. I sort of convinced him to, ahem, agree to allow me to come.”

Julian’s dark gray eyes narrowed on her. “How did you—” He groaned again. “Perhaps I don’t want to know.”

Daphne plunked her hands on her hips. “It was nothing indecent, I’ll have you know.”

“Thank God for that,” Julian retorted.

“I merely threatened him,” Daphne continued.

“Merely? Threatened?” Julian’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Daphne bit her lip. “I told him that I’d tell Donald he’d compromised me if he didn’t agree to take me with him.”

Julian cursed under his breath and lurched out of his seat again. “Cavendish compromised you! By God, I’ll—”

“No! No. No. No.” Daphne waved her hands in the air frantically. “No. He did not.” She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “I only threatened to tell Donald that he’d compromised me if he didn’t do as I asked.”

Julian breathed deeply, both nostrils flaring. He glanced at his wife, who merely took another sip of tea and shrugged. “I suggest you allow her to finish before you go flying off into any more rages,” Cass said.

Julian dropped back into his seat. “Very well. Go on, Daphne.”

“He still said no.” Daphne tapped a finger against her cheek.

“I don’t see how you ended up going with him then,” Julian replied.

“I was able to convince him.”

Julian eyed her warily. “How?”

“Because I knew the secret of why Donald went to France.”

Julian’s intelligent gray eyes snapped to her face. “What did you know?”

Daphne straightened her shoulders and kept her gaze locked on her brother’s face. “I know that the official reason Donald went to France was because he was an earl and he appeared to be on a diplomatic mission.”

“And?” Julian drew out the word.

“And I know the real reason Donald went was because the men who worked for the French were Russians and Donald spoke Russian.”

Julian braced a hand on the desk in front of him. “How did you know that?”

“I know that because I speak Russian, too.”

Julian’s eyes rounded bigger than she’d ever seen them. “Pardon?”

“Pardon?” Cass echoed, her teacup frozen halfway to her mouth.

“That’s right. Donald learned when he was a youth, after the ambassador paid Papa a visit. Papa told Donald it would serve him well to know more than English and French. The ambassador arranged for a private tutor.”

“I knew all of that, Daphne, but how did you learn it?” Julian asked.

Daphne tugged at the strand of pearls around her neck. “As you can guess, Papa didn’t know about it. He never would have agreed to tutor a seven-year-old girl in the language. And I needn’t tell you that Donald was the only one he ever thought worthy of anything special.”

Julian nodded solemnly. “Go on.”

“So I asked Donald. I told him how much I wanted to be of use one day, to help the country in any way I could.”

“And Donald said yes?” Julian breathed.

“He never said no to me,” Daphne replied with a sad smile. “He taught me himself and sometimes sneaked me into his lessons with the tutor, Mr. Baskov, when he could. Mr. Baskov said it was easier for me to learn than Donald because I was so much younger than he. He said I was a stellar student.”