The Irresistible Rogue (Playful Brides #4)(90)

“Oh, I’m a lord now, am I? Not a rogue?” Rafe grinned at her.

Daphne patted his shoulder. “You’ll always be a rogue, my love. My irresistible rogue.”

The butler entered the room and cleared his throat. “There’s someone here to see you, Captain,” Pengree said, directing his gaze toward Rafe.

“Someone came here to see me?” Rafe pointed at himself.

“Yes,” Pengree replied. “I must say, he’s quite—well, he’s…”

“Who is it, Pengree? Did this visitor give a name?” Julian asked.

“A Mr. Daffin Oakleaf, my lord.”

Daphne looked at Rafe. “Who is Daffin Oakleaf?” But Rafe’s face was turning a mottled shade of red she’d never seen before. He was angry.

“Show him in, Pengree,” Julian replied.

They all waited a few minutes for Pengree to return with the guest. When the man walked into the room, Daphne gasped. Cass clapped a hand over her mouth. Lucy’s eyebrows shot up straight. Claringdon blinked. And Julian looked twice.

Rafe’s face was a mask of stone.

The man looked exactly like Rafe.

“There are two of you!” Delilah exclaimed, her eyes wide as saucers. She looked as if she might faint.

Claringdon was next to speak. “Either the government has learned how to duplicate people or I’d say we’re about to meet your twin, Captain.”

The man bowed. “Daffin Oakleaf, at your service.”

“We both know that’s not your name,” Rafe said through clenched teeth.

“Of course it’s not. But I can hardly go by Cade Cavendish any longer,” the man replied, and Daphne noticed that he had the same cleft in his chin as Rafe did. She kept glancing back and forth between them. The only way she could tell the difference was that Daffin, or Cade, or whatever his name was, had much longer hair. “Rafe, this is your brother?” she asked.

“Yes,” came Rafe’s monotone reply. “My twin brother.”

“That’s right,” Cade said. “I must say, I’m thrilled that you’re claiming me. Though I suppose with our looks, you don’t have much choice, do you?”

Rafe narrowed his eyes at the man. “I thought you were dead. That is, until that blond climbed into my bed unexpectedly last spring.”

“Yes, sorry about that,” Cade replied. “Amanda told me you were not particularly excited to see her. She sends her apologies. She did think she’d found me. Not knowing I was a twin of course.”

Daphne’s mouth fell open. She gaped at Cade. “That was your blond?”

“One of them,” Cade replied with a grin even more devilish than his brother’s.

Daphne turned to Rafe. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a twin?”

Rafe shook his head. “It’s such a long story. I don’t know where I would even begin. As I said, I believed he was dead.”

Cade marched over to the sofa, plopped down, and put his boots on the table, crossing his feet at the ankles. Then he folded his hands behind his head and leaned back, comfortable as you please. “Why don’t you start at the beginning, dear brother? We have all the time in the world. For the time being, I’m back.”





AUTHOR’S NOTE

Dear Reader,

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading Daphne and Rafe’s story. From the moment they stepped onto the pages of the other novels in the Playful Brides series, I knew these two were destined to be together.

As many of you may know, obtaining a divorce or an annulment during the Regency period in England was not only extremely rare, it was exceedingly difficult. Because I loosely based this story on one of my favorite plays (and movies!) of all time, Philip Barry’s The Philadelphia Story, I took the liberty of beginning the story with Daphne and Rafe already married and in search of an annulment. In reality, the Prince Regent did not have the authority to dissolve a marriage or even to expedite an annulment. An annulment would have had to have been based on either impotency, insanity, or a close familial relationship between the bride and groom. While it’s not probable that this story would have taken place in quite this fashion, I always say that I’m a storyteller, not a historian, and as a storyteller, I’m more concerned with the what-ifs than the why-nots. I so enjoy taking a bit of license in order to bring you the most amusing romplike what-if my imagination can conjure.

As always, thank you so much for reading my stories. You are the reason I spend my time writing.