Dangerous in Diamonds (15 page)
“I agree,” Mrs. Albrighton said. “Lady Hawkeswell does as well. She and I have been plotting what to arrange. I proposed Vauxhall Gardens. I do not think Daphne has ever been there.”
“Everyone should see it at least once.”
“Some people think that once is more than enough,” Jonathan said dryly.
“Why not invite Mrs. Joyes to go tomorrow night, if the weather is fair? You will not mind accompanying the ladies, will you, Albrighton?”
Albrighton cast Castleford a glare.
“Why not indeed? I will send a message to Verity this evening,” Mrs. Albrighton said, pleased with the idea.
“I will encourage Hawkeswell to be agreeable,” Castleford said. “In fact, why not make a party of it? If you would not mind my presence, and would honor me by being my guests, we can all take my barge there and have a decent meal on board, instead of pretending to enjoy their ham.”
Mrs. Albrighton appeared surprised at his offer, but pleasantly so, even flattered. Her husband’s gaze darkened with curiosity.
Mrs. Joyes emerged from the house then, carrying a tray laden with that lemon and honey punch. Albrighton rose to help her. Mrs. Albrighton passed around the glasses.
Castleford sipped. It was very good. Nicely tart and sweet at the same time. A bit of brandy would improve it considerably, though.
“Daphne, you will not believe what His Grace has offered,” Mrs. Albrighton said. “We are all invited to use his barge tomorrow evening for a dinner party, then to visit Vauxhall Gardens as his guests.”
The exquisite Mrs. Joyes smiled at her friend very sweetly. She said all the right things to thank him for his condescension. The slight tint on her cheeks, however, suggested she was extremely surprised to find herself cornered again.
A
letter awaited Castleford when he returned home. It came from Mr. Edwards. He reported that the engineers and surveyors had arrived and taken over the inn at Cumberworth. He had been most firm with all of them that the women on the property in question were to be avoided and in no way importuned.
letter awaited Castleford when he returned home. It came from Mr. Edwards. He reported that the engineers and surveyors had arrived and taken over the inn at Cumberworth. He had been most firm with all of them that the women on the property in question were to be avoided and in no way importuned.
He had visited The Rarest Blooms to reassure Miss Johnson and Mrs. Hill. He estimated that work would begin immediately in the morning and promised to oversee all matters with great care. He concluded by mentioning his suspicion that the inn, in which he had slept last night, was infested top to bottom with bedbugs.
With no secretary readily available, Castleford was forced to pen his own response. He instructed Mr. Edwards to make sure the examination of the property was very thorough. The men were not to rush it in any way. Indeed, if they completed their labors in less than a fortnight, he would be forced to conclude the report could not be trusted.
He poured himself some brandy and gave orders regarding the barge and tomorrow’s dinner to his steward. He then went to his chamber to work on his book.
The manuscript could not hold his attention. That was another problem with his relative sobriety these days. It was much more fun writing a guide to London brothels when one was drunk.
His mind wandered to the lovely Mrs. Joyes. He considered what he had learned of her character today and whether the revelations were of any significance.
She was a fraud, it appeared. A liar, to be blunt about it. No Captain Joyes had died in the war. That had been clear after the hour he spent in the War Office cellar with the documents Sykes had handed him. He had read the lists of dead and wounded twice to make sure he had not missed the name.
He now doubted there had ever been a Captain Joyes at all, although it was possible there was one somewhere still, alive and well. He would have to find out.
However, if he were correct, she was not a widow and perhaps had never been married.
There were reasons to lie about that, he supposed. Widowhood gave a certain protection to an independent woman. She may have also wanted an excuse to be known under another name. With family in London and about in the country, she would need a reason to give them for a different name, and marriage was the only one that worked. But why change her name at all?
It was also a way to hide one’s identity and to make it hard to be found. Except she hadn’t been hiding these last years. She had family in London, and she had lived in its environs.
If she wanted to hide, she would have taken herself off to someplace far away, where she might never be found. Furthermore, while she lived in Middlesex, she walked about London frequently. Finally, people chose to hide because they had done something wrong, and if she were a criminal he would lose all faith in his judgment of people.
His ruminations soon brought him to the most logical and simplest explanation. Old Becksbridge had probably insisted she adopt that name and a widow’s identity. Her maiden name might raise questions if members of his family knew she lived on Becksbridge’s land and enjoyed Becksbridge’s patronage.
They might recognize the name of a girl who had been a governess in that household. No one would know anything about a Mrs. Joyes.
He had assumed an affair from the beginning, and this would seem to confirm it. A new annoyance with Becksbridge accompanied his conclusions. Daphne had been dependent on the duke back then. She had probably entered his service as an innocent. Her father had been the duke’s friend.
Her father had also been known in the same county as Becksbridge’s main estate, and there would be a scandal if the other landowners came to know of the duke’s misuse of her.
Small wonder the paragon’s conscience had led him to have a “committed interest” in his prey’s welfare after the affair ended.
Chapter Ten
“Y
ou are early, Hawkeswell. We do not embark for half an hour,” Castleford said when he noticed his first guest striding down the dock.
ou are early, Hawkeswell. We do not embark for half an hour,” Castleford said when he noticed his first guest striding down the dock.
“It was my goal to be here when you arrived so we might have a private word. Several of them.” Hawkeswell stepped off the pier and onto the barge.
Castleford continued watching the servants set up the little tents that would serve as pavilions on the far lower deck. This was not his yacht, which he kept down near the Tower and which could easily sail the open seas. Rather this large shallop served only as a pleasure craft, designed for the river, with plenty of space for the table, chairs, and settees up here above the roof of the wooden tilt, under which passengers might find shelter from the sun or rain. Only the sky would form a canopy to the dinner party up here.
Servants and crew moved about, seeing to the preparations. Several men rolled back the large canopy sometimes used up here for additional protection. Others lit the lanterns hanging around the table. This shallop had been built with a galley down below for the oarsmen and food preparation, and feet thudded on steps up and down. The crew’s and servants’ glances said they thought it odd His Grace was present. Normally he came late, if he came at all.
“Speak your private words, if you must,” Castleford said to Hawkeswell. “I assume that you want to complain that my plans are forcing you to go to the gardens tonight. I promise to feed you well, at least.”
Hawkeswell leaned against the railing and gazed at the elaborate dinner table. “It is bad enough I know what you are up to with Daphne Joyes. Making me complicit is going too far.”
“It is not possible for you to be complicit in a seduction. Only two people are involved. The seducer and she whom he seduces.”
Hawkeswell pointed at the table. “You are making us all complicit.”
“I am not going to take her between the fish and fowl courses and expect all of you to watch, Hawkeswell. Actually, I doubt I will be so lucky as to seduce her at all tonight.” He shrugged. “Unless the barge capsizes and she and I sink to the bottom of the river, where we find a secret, dry cave that we cannot leave until the tide turns.” He went to the table and fractionally adjusted the position of a vase of flowers.
“What an active imagination you have. I had no idea your pickled mind came up with such vivid imagery and devices.”
“If my mind were sufficiently pickled today, I would find your tone’s resemblance to that of my old tutor more bearable. As it is, I can only implore you not to be insufferable all night.”
Hawkeswell gave him a good, hard look. “You are sober, aren’t you? I’ll be damned. Have you stopped drinking for this woman?”
“You
would
put it that way. No, I have not. That glass of wine over there is mine, for example. However, if you must know, I have chosen to make sure that I enjoy her favors to the fullest when they are inevitably mine, not to be foxed senseless when I see her.”
would
put it that way. No, I have not. That glass of wine over there is mine, for example. However, if you must know, I have chosen to make sure that I enjoy her favors to the fullest when they are inevitably mine, not to be foxed senseless when I see her.”
Hawkeswell appeared astonished. Impressed. Befuddled as hell. Then his eyes narrowed. “She told you she would never have you drunk, didn’t she?”
“She said nothing of the kind.”
“That is fine. Say no more. It is not as if you would admit it, if it were true.” Hawkeswell scrutinized him like an old aunt judging an errant nephew. “So, how is it, seeing the world most days without a haze in your head? I found it an improvement, myself, after the initial shock.”
“I, on the other hand, have only rediscovered how boring the world can be.” It was a lie, spoken in pique at Hawkeswell’s damned perspicacity. “It is livable.”
Hawkeswell grinned. “Woe unto the world if you decide it is not only livable but preferable.”
Castleford had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Fortunately, the conversation abruptly ended because the carriage with the ladies was arriving, with Albrighton up beside the driver.
“I
heard a rumor about you this afternoon, Castleford.”
heard a rumor about you this afternoon, Castleford.”
Hawkeswell shared the news with a mysterious wiggling of his eyebrows.
“What rumor? I hope it was a good one.”
Happy peals of laughter greeted that, as if he had displayed great wit. Daphne joined in simply because laughing felt good.
Everyone had been enjoying dinner under the stars while the boat slowly steered from one riverbank to the other and back again, in a slow meander upriver. A good deal of wine had been had, and even commonplace comments had begun to strike them as droll some time ago. Daphne admitted her own sense of humor had improved considerably in the last hour due to the warm glow induced by the unbelievably rich liquid.
She looked at Castleford, who waited for a response to his query. He appeared surprisingly unaffected by that which lubricated their revelry, but then he had more practice than most with such things.
Except, now that she thought about it, perhaps he had poured more into her glass than his own since they sat down. He had imbibed to be sure, but if she put her mind to it, she suspected he had consumed fewer glasses than his guests. Including her.
“Let me see if I can remember all of it.” Hawkeswell frowned over the effort.
“I remind you that there are ladies present,” Albrighton said. “Perhaps all of it is not wise?”
The ladies thought that was very funny. Verity and Celia could not contain their giggles.
“I heard that you have sent a crew of engineers and whatnot out to some property you own somewhere, looking for gold or something,” Hawkeswell rambled out.
Daphne’s mirth caught in her throat. She glanced askance at Castleford. He made a dismissive gesture, deciding the gossip was not important after all.
“I have some men checking some farmland. I was advised to consider it due to discoveries nearby.”
“I trust that if anything is found of value, and you form a syndicate to mine some treasure, that you will inform your friends first,” Hawkeswell said.
“I do not expect anything to come of it. The enterprise is so minor that I am surprised it is grist for the rumor mill. Where did you hear about it?”
“At Brooks’s. To be fair, I overheard it, but the two fellows were whispering so loudly I could not avoid it.”
“Which fellows?”
“Their chairs were turned away. I could hardly go peer around to see who they were.”
“You are known to have a Midas touch, Castleford. It is inevitable that your activities will attract interest, if men think money is going to be made,” Albrighton said.
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