Never to Part (15 page)

“That is not necessary,” Daphne told him.

Richard waited until she turned her back to him. He settled it on her shoulders. Then he rested his hands there a moment and breathed deeply. How her scent intoxicated him.

Taking a step away and turning Daphne asked, “When shall we again discuss the verse?”

Her faltering voice drew his attention. Were those tears in her eyes?

“After my visit with Mother I shall send a note naming a time and place,” Richard answered. “‘Tis to be hoped you are better at keeping appointments than your brother.”

Daphne hastily looked away. With a nod she bolted out of the library.

The cold night air brought Daphne up short at the bottom of Dremore House’s steps. She looked down the street and hurried toward the hackney wondering for the first time why Saddie hadn’t signalled Richard’s return.

Had Richard done something to her? Surely not
. Daphne ran to the hackney and saw the driver dozing on his perch. As she wrenched open the coach’s door a figure loomed out of the darkness into the faint light of the street lamp. She paused long enough to see that it was Eldridge Blanchard.

Wrenching open the hackney’s door, dismay filled her at the sight of her companion slumped in the seat. She clambered inside. “Saddie,” Daphne shook her. “Saddie, are you all right?”

“Miss Stratton, is something wrong?” asked Eldridge at the hackney door.

“Saddie. My companion,” Daphne said, her teeth chattering from fear as well as the evening chill. “I cannot wake her.”

Saddie moaned and feebly tried to pull her hand away.

“I told her not to drink it,” Lord Ricman said righteously as he sat atop the hackney.

“You know they cannot hear us,” Lady Laurissa told him. She eyed Eldridge balefully. “We shall have to keep a more watchful eye on him.

“I bet he bribed the hackney driver to give the old gel laudanum laced punch.
Something is going to have to be done about that base bugger.
”
”

When Saddie gave a low groan and her companion’s eyelids fluttered relief flickered through Daphne. When Miss McRae yawned heavily, blinked, and tried to focus glazed eyes on Daphne, the young woman took her hands.

“Oh, Saddie dear, I feared the worst,” she said anxiously.

“Yes, what happened to you Miss McRae? Was it my cousin?”

“Gave me a hot tisane,” mumbled Saddie. “Most kind.” She yawned widely. “Can we go to bed now, my dear?”

Daphne gaped at her companion while anger thrust into full bloom. How could she have had the perfidy of falling into Richard’s arms when he had done this?
How dare he? The man is a treacherous—lecherous—rat
.

“You came from the house so precipitously. What happened?” Eldridge asked.

Her eyes on Saddie, tumbling questions jolted Daphne. Remembering Richards words about his cousin she said, “Nothing. I must get Miss McRae home at once.”

“Of course. May I call in the morn?”

Ignoring both the question and the suspicion in his voice Daphne said, “Driver, take us to Golden Square.” She gave a belated nod to Eldridge. Her stomach lurched at the flare of black in his aura. She saw the twist of his lips. When the coach lurched into motion a sense of having escaped filled her.

The night proved long and sleepless for Daphne as she mulled over all that had happened. She impatiently waited until mid-morning before she trudged up the stairs with tea and toast for Saddie. She tapped on the door and entered.

The breakfast tray set on a small table, Daphne flicked open the curtains. She went to the bed and gazed down at the thin fragile figure. “How do you feel?”

Saddie blinked and yawned. “So sorry, Miss Daphne. I have slept like the dead. Dear me,” she turned and gazed up at the young woman. Puzzlement filled her eyes. “I can’t recall returning home, let alone going to bed. What happened?”

Daphne sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you recall going to Dremore House?”

“Oh, my yes,” Saddie exclaimed. She sat bolt upright. “I was to signal if Lord Dremore—” she stopped in mid-sentence and fell back against the pillows.

“What happened?” Daphne gently prodded.

“The hackney driver offered me a warm tisane right after you left me.” Saddie rubbed her forehead. “After I drank it I grew very very tired.” She looked up at Daphne. “I failed you, my dear. I am so—”

“Never think that, Saddie. I should never have forgiven myself if you had been harmed.”

“Were you discovered?”

Daphne blushed. “Yes, but no harm came of it. We found another verse. Lord Dremore is going to speak to his mother about it,” she blurted.

“His mother? Dear me,” Saddie said. She studied Daphne. “Nothing untoward happened?”

Hurrying to get the tray, Daphne shook her head. She waited until Saddie had a pillow across her lap and then set it on it. “Is there anything else I can fetch for you?”

“This is wonderful. I haven’t eaten in bed since— I don’t think I ever have,” Saddie grinned. “Have you eaten? I thought not. Take yourself off, then.”

Daphne did so then belatedly worried that she had not asked Saddie if she had seen anyone talk to the hackney driver.
If only I had not been so upset last eve. I didn’t even think to question the hackney driver. He would not have had a warm drink to give a passenger. No. Who gave it to him? Richard?

Mr. Blanchard?
came unbidden. Before she could reason further, pounding on the front door intruded.

Geoffrey? If he hadn’t returned home last eve he was probably gaming again
. Daphne hurried to the door. When she opened it, Eldridge Blanchard almost fell into the foyer.

He whipped off his hat. “I was so concerned when no one answered the door. Is Miss McRae well?”

Covering her surprise Daphne reassured him. “She is fine.”

Eldridge brushed past her. He ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. “I—I fear Dremore had a hand in the business. If you wish it, I shall call him out.”

The bright orange of lie settled the most pressing question for her. Daphne was now certain who had drugged Saddie but thought it wisest not to betray her knowledge until she could decide what to do. “Would that be wise?” she asked.

He took a turn around the room and faced her once more. “It would only add to the scandal sheets.” Eldridge shook his head. “I shall speak with Dremore.”

The lack of an orange flare confirmed these last words. “Please do not,” Daphne said disliking even the pretense that Blanchard would help her.

“I have tried to think why he would do such a thing.” Eldridge said without meeting her gaze. “May I ask why Miss McRae was alone in a hackney outside Dremore House?”

Heat rose to Daphne’s cheeks. She raised her chin a tad. “I was searching for the treasure.”

 “Ahhhh. Dremore came home.” Eldridge brushed a hand through his hair. “Why did you not tell me?” He took her hand. “I could have kept Dremore away most of the night.”

“I did not wish to embroil you in my troubles,” Daphne said. She eased her hand free. “Your cousin was cross. Nothing more.” Daphne led him to the room closest to the foyer. When she turned and faced him an almost overwhelming sensation of being trapped washed over her.

“Did you find the treasure?” he asked nonchalantly.

“It was foolish to even think I could,” Daphne replied curtly. “I must ask you to go. I need to check on Miss McRae.”

Eldridge stepped very close. “You found something.”

It was a statement. Denial would be useless. “Yes, we found another verse.”

Eldridge eased back. He fingered his hat. “Where is it?”

“I left it with Lord Dremore.”

“Was that wise?”

Near emotional and physical exhaustion, Daphne raised a hand to cover her mouth and yawned widely. “Lord Dremore is going to show it to his mother to see if any of it makes sense to her.”

“You will let me know the result?”

To fob him off, Daphne nodded. After he withdrew, she looked out the window. A strong, handsome face, not unlike that of the man who had just left her but with a lock of blond hair that tended to curl when it fell forward onto his forehead, stared back at her.

Now there are two I must trick if I am to have the treasure.
And I shall
, Daphne
promised herself.

 * * * *

Richard sat at his desk in his study. The two pieces of parchment lay before him. They remained as much a puzzle now as last eve.

But Daphne’s behaviour baffled Richard more.

What about your own manners
? Conscience questioned. Lout and courtier in turn.

Wincing away from too close an inspection of his behaviour Richard honed in on Daphne’s.
She really believes the Dremore Treasure exists and means to find it. Has Stratton put them in such reduced circumstances that it forces Daphne to such an attempt? He mulled it over for a bit. Straightened circumstances—-fighting to keep her family home. She is a brave woman
. A smile stirred across his lips and then faded.

If she found “treasure” enough to solve her problems would Daphne simply forget me
? Irritated this was far more plausible than not he groused aloud, “I’m commanded to tell her what I learn from Mother. I should have her arrested for house breaking instead.”

The thought of Daphne in gaol twisted something deep
. She told the truth about the incident at Heart Haven
. An inner warning chimed.
She may be in league with Eldridge. That alone should ban her from your heart
.

Something akin to fear chilled Richard. Lust. It is pure and simple lust, he insisted despite a new and very different conclusion lurking deep in his thoughts.

Something about Daphne drew him.
Her intelligence, her daring, her bravery.
Realizing he was on a dangerous tack, Richard changed direction
. Her scent, the velvet of her skin at the nap of her neck, the silken texture of her hair. That is what lures me as few women ever have. Lust.

A loud insistent tapping on the door broke through his reverie.

“Dremore, dear?”

Richard sighed guiltily and stood. He forced himself not to move the pieces of parchment when Lady Laurissa entered. “Yes, Mother?”

The baroness closed the door and then tugged on the handle to make certain it was shut. She approached him with a wave for him to retake his seat. “I had a dream last night,” she whispered. “I dreamed that you found another verse.

Lord Ricman took a seat on the corner of Richard’s desk. “That was a nice touch, my love,” he told his wife who stood beside the baroness.

“Hush, thou shalt distract her. Laurissa ‘tis very sensitive to us,” Lady Laurel cautioned.

“’Twas a very strange dream. Something about a crypt and you and a young woman. Lord Ricman and Lady Laurel were there with you. I think he pushed you.”

Richard stiffened with memory and then hastily and uneasily dismissed this explanation of why he had stumbled into Daphne. He stood, came around the desk, and put an arm about her shoulders. “You know better than pay heed to dreams, Mother. ’Twas probably just the rich desserts last eve.”

Lord Ricman stood and sat in Richard’s chair. He winked at his wife and then blew at the parchment pieces
.

The sudden flutter of two papers on his desk halted Richard as he began to turn Lady Laurissa towards the door.
What the—

His mother ducked beneath his arm and snatched up the parchment sheets. After a quick perusal she frowned at him. “Had you permitted me to finish, I would have told you that in my
nonsensical
dream I saw two pieces of parchment on the library table.”

Triumph lit the baroness’ eyes as she held up the fragments. “They looked like these.” She folded her arms and tapped her foot.

Richard inwardly cursed.
Had Daphne sent a missive last eve to his mother?
“What else did you see in this dream?”

“Sadly nothing of interest.”

The odd smile that hovered on her lips told him otherwise. Richard decided not to pursue it. Too many strange incidents had occurred for all to be happenstances. Half-jokingly he thought,
Perhaps my poltergeist from the Biddleage cemetery is at work
. “I was going to show them to you.”

“But not this morn,” his mother said.

Richard refused to grimace. “Read them again. Please,” he said. “But let us be comfortable.” He motioned her to take a seat in the overstuffed leather chair behind his desk.

Lord Ricman barely managed to vacate Dremore’s chair before Lady Laurissa reached it. She looked straight at him for a long moment and put a hand to her lips.

“I warned thee that she senses us,” Lady Laurel chided. “Stay well away.”

Lady Laurissa took a step to do as he bid but then halted and gaped at the chair.

“What is wrong, Mother? You have the oddest look.”

The baroness shook her head. After she gingerly waved a hand between the arms of the chair, a crafty smile lit her features as she sat. Laying the two papers on the desk, she read their contents. When she finished Lady Laurissa asked, “How many verses have been found?”

Richard debated the possibility of fabrication but her stern look dispelled the idea. “We—that is, the first clue was solved in the Blanchard mausoleum in Biddleage.” He considered his next words carefully before speaking.

“That clue led me to our library here where those were found.” He motioned to the papers and sat in the chair next to his desk.

“How interesting,” she drawled with a hint of satisfaction. “You must show me the one from Biddleage.”

“In the centre drawer,” Richard replied.

His mother opened the drawer and removed it. She pursed her lips as she studied it. When she finished, Lady Laurissa laid it above the other two papers.

“The same style of writing. However did you deduce the correct interpretation? They appear quite obtuse to me.”

Lord Ricman rose from the corner of the desk in a huff. “Obtuse? A child could understand their meaning.”