Excerpt
“There you are, my dear,” said the Earl of
Forsyth with a beaming smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Maitland saw at once that Daphne favored
him. Her green eyes were the same shade as his, though there were lines of
dissipation bracketing the earl’s. And though his expertly cropped blond hair
was shot through with silver, what remained of its original color was the same
shade as hers. But whereas Daphne’s gaze was focused off to the left of
whomever she conversed with, like a bird hovering just over a branch, Forsyth’s
speared one with cold calculation. As he did to Daphne now.
“You are looking well, Daphne,” the earl
continued, stepping forward to embrace his daughter, who looked as
uncomfortable with the contact as Maitland had ever seen her. “The sea air
agrees with you. As I knew it would.”
“The sea is very beautiful,” Daphne replied
woodenly. “Why are you here, Father?”
“Is that any way to greet your Papa?” the
earl chided, stepping back from her and wandering farther into the room,
standing to stare out at the gardens below through the window. “I’ve traveled
all the way from London to see you. And this lovely estate. I must admit that
when I first learned of your inheritance, I thought it was all some sort of
trick. But you would have your own way and leave the loving bosom of your
family no matter what I said. Now that I’m here, though, and see it in person,
I must admit that it’s a lovely spot. And your chaperone, Lady Serena, is quite
beautiful, isn’t she? A widow, I take it?”
His jaw clenched at the man’s mention of
Serena, and Maitland thought perhaps it was time to announce himself. Daphne
seemed not to realize he’d followed her in, and the earl was too busy waxing
rhapsodic over the beauties of Beauchamp House.
“I don’t believe we’ve met, Forsyth,” he
said forcefully, stepping up to stand side by side with Daphne. He gave a
slight bow, perhaps not quite as deep as was warranted, but not caring. “The
Duke of Maitland. I am a friend of your daughter’s, you might say.”
What he meant by that last, he could not
say, but the man made every bit of protective instinct within him go on the
alert. He was her father, but all the same Maitland knew that Daphne was no
safer with him than she would have been with Sommersby if he still lived.
At the sound of the duke’s voice, Lord
Forsyth turned with almost comical haste from the window and stared. For the
barest flicker, he looked angry. Well, if he were upset at the knowledge that
his daughter was not without friends, then he would simply have to swallow it.
Because Maitland was damned if he’d leave her alone with the fellow.
“Duke,” Lord Forsyth said with a tilt of
his head, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I was a friend of your
father’s, and had little notion I’d be meeting you here. He was a good man,
your father.”
His father had been nothing of the sort,
but Maitland was hardly going to discuss it with Forsyth.
“I am here visiting my sister, Lady
Serena,” Maitland said coolly, letting the other man know in tone rather than
words that he had not appreciated the older man’s speculative words about her
earlier. “And of course my cousin, Kerr. He only recently married another of
the heiresses here, and resides here with her.”
***
Forsyth’s eyes narrowed at the implication
that Daphne was well protected should her father wish to cause trouble. At
least that was the message Maitland was endeavoring to send. And by the looks
of it, Forsyth read him loud and clear.
“Capital, capital,” the earl said with
false cheer. “A merry party you must all make here. I had no idea you were in
such fine company here, Daphne. No notion at all.”
“Because we have not spoken since I left,”
Daphne said, looking from her father to Maitland then back again, as if
wondering what went on between them. “And now, father, I really must ask you to
leave. I have a great deal of work to do and . . .”
“Don’t be absurd, Daphne,” her father said
with a shake of his head. “I only just arrived. And there is something very
important I must speak to you about.” He turned to Maitland with a raised brow.
“I’m sure you’ll excuse us, Duke. I’m afraid what I need to tell my daughter is
private family business.”
Maitland was opening his mouth to tell the
man he would leave Daphne alone with him when hell froze over, when Daphne did
it for him.
“Maitland stays,” she said, reaching out to
grasp him by the arm. It was as much of a cry for help as he’d ever thought
he’d see from her. Wordlessly, he slipped her arm into his, as if they were
about to promenade round the room. He covered her hand with his, keenly aware
of the thread of tension in her.
Once more, the earl’s eyes narrowed, and he
turned an assessing gaze on Maitland, perhaps realizing for the first time the
threat coming at him from that direction.
His jaw clenched, Forsyth said grimly,
“Very well. If you wish your friend to witness our dirty linen, so be it.” As
if needing to be in motion in order to speak, the earl began to pace the area
between the window and the fireplace. “You know, Daphne, you left me without
any obvious means of recouping what I lost from years of paying that tutor of
yours, old man Sommersby.”
“You agreed to pay him,” Daphne said
tightly. “After I threatened to expose . . .”
Hastily, Forsyth continued, “And I am
currently in need of funds. As such, I must insist you return to London with me
for the time being and meet a particular gentleman who has expressed interest
in marrying you. Though his birth is not as high as yours, he’s quite wealthy
and will make you a good husband, I trust. He’s assured me he has no concern about
your odd ways, if you’re as beautiful as your portrait.”
Before Maitland could burst out with the
string of invectives the other man’s pronouncement inspired in him, Daphne
said, “I cannot marry this person. I’ve never even met him. You promised me that
I would not have to marry someone for money as long as I won enough at the
tables. I did so. You promised me, father.”
“I never actually promised, Daphne.”
Forsyth said with a shake of his head. “If you chose to interpret it as such,
that is not my fault. Now, go pack your things.”
Daphne’s hand on Maitland’s arm gripped him
tightly. And before he even knew what he was doing, he said, “I’m afraid that’s
impossible, Forsyth. Daphne is staying here.”
***
“I don’t know who you think you are,
Maitland,” said the earl through clenched teeth, “but I am her father, and I am
well within my rights to take her back to London. Now, kindly take your hands
off of her and let her go pack.”
“It might once have been your right,
Forsyth,” Maitland said coldly, “but Lady Daphne is my betrothed now and as
such, she will remain here. With me.”
Copyright © 2017
by Manda Collins and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Press.
