And the Miss Ran Away With the Rake - By Elizabeth Boyle Page 0,110
your kinswoman.”
“Mine don’t run off,” another fellow joked. “Wish they would. Should count yerself lucky, milord.”
There was a rough volley of laughter at Crispin’s expense.
“The route!” he demanded.
“Pay up,” the man said, “or spend the night and find it in the daylight yerself. Personally I think you ought to try—but I don’t fancy finding you and your excellent carriage at the bottom of the ravine.”
There were nods all around.
“Yes, well, then, name your price,” Crispin said in a of huff. “But whoever takes me had best know what he is doing, for I must catch them before they are married. Or worse.”
Daphne stilled as a price was arranged and a fellow came forward to ride along with Crispin’s driver.
What followed was a whirlwind of activity and shouted orders, then the creak of the door and the sound of it slamming shut. Not until there was a neigh from the horses and the carriage rumbled out of the yard did Daphne come down the stairwell, only to find the grinning maid waiting at the edge of the steps.
“Oh, thank you,” she said to the girl who had brazened such a scheme. “I just need tonight to tell him everything. To explain everything. To get him to forgive me all of this.”
“Exactly what do you need to explain, Miss Dale?” came a familiar voice. “And what do I need to forgive?”
Henry didn’t wait for Daphne to answer; he caught her by the arm and hauled her toward the room the innkeeper had set aside for their supper.
He towed her quickly, afraid his temper would boil over before they reached the privacy of the dining room, well away from prying ears and eyes.
But he didn’t make it. For the moment Daphne had expressed her relief, “to get him to forgive me all this,” the truth hit him squarely between the eyes.
She knew. She knew the truth.
He’d never felt such a fool!
“All this . . . the carriage, the chase, your worries and your countless concerns over Mr. Dishforth—you knew!” he burst out just as they gained the room but before the door could be shut.
Daphne reared to a stop. “Which you could have ended at any moment.”
Yes, she did have to point that out.
“How could I? You called that idiot—”
“You mean I called you,” she corrected, hands fisted to her hips.
“Yes, yes. You called Mr. Dishforth a simpleton. You claimed you loved him.”
At least she had enough decency left to look slightly guilty. Not for long, though. “The point being? My lord, you could have stopped all this with one single confession.”
“My confession? What about yours?” He threw up his hands. “I should point out that this folly has left you ruined.”
She huffed a sigh. “As well I know.”
“ ‘I know’?! That is all you have to say? This coming from ‘Reputation is everything, sir. A man’s reputation is his shining grace.’ ”
She pinked around the edges as he quoted from one of her letters. As well she should. And as if she could feel the heat in her cheeks and what it revealed, she turned her back to him.
“Ruined!” he continued to rail. “Further, you have left me with no alternative but to marry you—if only to save your reputation and mine.”
Oh, that spun her around, her eyes alight with fury. “Why would you bother? As a Seldon, don’t you think that goes against Society’s expectations?”
“Don’t tempt me, Miss Dale.” But honestly, all she did was tempt him. Just by breathing, she had him tangled in the crosshairs.
“Oh, am I ‘Miss Dale’ again? What happened to ‘my dearest Daphne’?”
“That rather leapt out the window when you fell asleep in my arms murmuring love notes to that looby Dishforth instead of to me. The man, I will point out, that you love.”
She waved a hand at him as if he spoke utter nonsense.
Henry was past caring who heard him or how his voice carried. “Haven’t you a thought as to how all this reflects on me? Until I met you, I was a gentleman. Now your family most likely thinks I’ve kidnapped you—stolen you away for nefarious reasons.”
“There is no arguing that,” came a voice that stopped them both.
Crispin, Viscount Dale. Hell and damnation, he’d returned.
Daphne turned first, and then Henry.
Being first, Daphne had the privilege of seeing her cousin send a bruising fist into Lord Henry’s face.
Henry, on the other hand, never saw it coming.
Chapter 16
I will not be parted from you. I will find you, my dearest love. This, I promise.