Chapter Twenty-Three

For three days, Daphne walked about Falstone House with a smile just beneath the surface. She could not remember a time when her heart had been lighter. James had come to call every day since Lady Techney’s illness, and the previous evening at the ball, he’d even danced with her. And when engaged with others that night, he’d still looked over at her occasionally from across the room.

Daphne’s smile could not help but peek through her usual reserve at the memory of those brief connections. She brushed her fingers across the tips of several flowers on a bush near the entrance to the small park where she knew James walked his small dog.

The gentleman she had fallen in love with during the past half dozen years was falling in love with her. She came remarkably close to squealing right there in a public green, an uncharacteristic urge she’d felt a remarkable number of times over the past few days.

Turning a corner, she spotted James just ahead. He tossed a stick, and the puppy he’d named Scamp rushed after it. Sitting on a stone bench nearby was Lady Techney.

James spotted Daphne in the next moment, smiling at her as always. He waved as they approached. “Good morning, Daphne.”

“Good morning,” she offered in return. “And to you, Lady Techney. You appear to be feeling well today.”

“I am, and it is a very pleasant change.” She fussed a moment with her lap blanket before resuming her stitching.

Daphne had learned during her long vigil at Lady Techney’s bedside that James’s mother was very fond of embroidery; she had mentioned it several times. Daphne’s own mother had filled their home with stitchery during the short years of her life.

James walked with Daphne a few paces away, where Scamp was happily gnawing the already slobbery stick.

James took her hand in his as he’d done in the carriage a few days earlier. The gesture had so quickly become natural and easy between them. The feel of his touch momentarily robbed her of the ability to respond. She simply breathed and committed the moment to memory.

“I know my mother well enough to realize she is not likely to give you the thanks you deserve for the throat tonic you provided for her.”

“Your cook has the recipe and can prepare it for her whenever she is in need of it.” Daphne managed to get the words out whole despite the fact that James had not yet released her hand.

“I do believe you would put to shame any apothecary in the kingdom.” He squeezed her fingers. “You’ve done wonders for Mother.”

“I am so pleased she is feeling better.”

He took up Scamp’s stick with his free hand and tossed it away for the pup to chase. “Have you had word from Shropshire?”

“My father is quite ill, unfortunately. In mind as well as body.”

“I am so sorry.” He adjusted their position so her arm was threaded through his, pulling her closer to him. She accepted the thoughtful and supportive gesture and leaned a little against him. “Has your brother-in-law offered any specific information?”

“No.” She sighed as he set his hand on hers where it rested on his arm. “But Father’s situation is not at all hopeful.”

“Do you and the duchess need to travel to Shropshire? I would be happy to help you make any arrangements.”

She felt her telltale blush return but did not fight against it. By now, James knew her tendency to color and did not seem to mind. “We will wait to hear what Adam recommends.”

“It seems, then, that you are in need of diversions,” he said. “Anything you would like, Daphne. An afternoon carriage ride, a trip to Greenwich Park. Whatever you choose.”

Anything she wanted. Would he think her odd or overly sentimental if she confessed to wanting nothing so much as an hour or two of his company? She had no desire to seem pathetic. A carriage ride about Hyde Park could be undertaken in relative privacy, but a longer trip to Greenwich Park would involve a great many servants, and Persephone would be required to attend for the sake of propriety.

“I am not sure,” she said, trying to think of a third alternative.

“There must be something you want to do but haven’t.”

“I have been surprisingly happy here, James. Indeed, this Season is the first time I have ever come to Town when I haven’t been desperate to escape.”

“Escape.” A broad smile spread across his face. “You have given me the perfect idea.”

“What is it?”

His excitement proved infectious. “Tomorrow afternoon you are going to have a picnic.”

He had remembered that fleeting moment of conversation. She hadn’t been on a picnic in ten years. The very thought rekindled long-forgotten memories of happy times and worry-free moments with her family, of shedding the weight of responsibility and hardship. “Oh, James, that would be wonderful.”

“And I will personally make all the arrangements, so you need do nothing but attend and enjoy yourself.”

“You are certain?” she asked.

James took her hand once more, raising it to his lips and brushing the lightest kiss on her fingers. “It will be my very real pleasure.”

Long after she and Fanny returned to their carriage to make the drive back to Falstone House, Daphne held the back of her hand to her cheek, closing her eyes, shutting out every sensation but the memory of his kiss.

* * *

James discovered that doing a kindness for Daphne was both a privilege and a joy. He’d spent an enjoyable afternoon and morning planning the impromptu picnic. By means of a quick tête-à-tête with Her Grace at the Bowers’ musicale the evening before, he’d discovered Daphne liked water-chestnut sandwiches, lemonade, and apple tarts. He’d also learned that the Lancasters had enjoyed only the most basic of accommodations when picnicking: a blanket, a basket of food, plates, and utensils. He meant to recreate those excursions.

Ben crossed his path as he made a circuit of the front entryway, awaiting Daphne’s arrival. Inexplicably, his brother laughed almost on the instant.

“You find something entertaining?” James glanced out the windows at the sky, wanting further reassurance that the weather would cooperate.

“I find you entertaining. I haven’t seen you this giddy since we were boys.”

“I am not giddy.”

Ben only laughed again. “Enthusiastic, then.”

James shrugged. “I like picnics.”

Ben motioned for James to walk with him toward the back terrace. “I have a feeling what you have come to like is Miss Lancaster.”

“How could I not like her? She is intelligent and witty and a genuinely good person.”

Ben raised an eyebrow even as he lowered his voice. “Am I to assume you are not so disgusted with your courtship of her as you were a few weeks ago?”

The reminder was a bit sobering. “I still cannot like how all this began. But I’ve had time to come to know Daphne better, and I have found reason to be optimistic.”

“She’s not the dragon you expected her to be?”

He had made a great many assumptions about her, none of which had proven accurate. “Better than that, even. The more I know of her, the more I believe we could make a good match of it.”

Ben shook his head. “‘A good match’ is not the same as ‘a love match.’”

Leave it to Ben to dampen the enthusiasm James had managed to find. “No. But it is better than what our parents have.”

“You have resigned yourself to it?”

Resigned was far too harsh a word. “I like Miss Lancaster. Quite a lot, in fact.”

Ben studied him a moment. “I’ve come to like her as well,” he eventually said. “I don’t care for the idea of her spending her life with a husband who regrets marrying her.”

James pushed out a breath. The guilt he’d tried to assuage all week flooded over him again. He had spent far too much of the past weeks deceiving a good-hearted lady. He did like Daphne. She was a wonder and a pleasant surprise. He missed her when she was away and thought of her while they were apart. He might not have chosen her on his own, but he could be a good husband to her. “I didn’t say I regretted courting her,” he said.

“If you cannot go forward with this honestly,” Ben said, “you really shouldn’t go forward at all.”

James shook his head. “It isn’t that simple. This arrangement may have begun by force, but it does not feel that way any longer. Should I be fortunate enough to win her regard, I will do everything I can to make her happy.”

“Everything except tell her the truth.”

“The truth would only hurt her, Ben.”

For the first time, his brother seemed to empathize with him. “An impossible situation, isn’t it? Being honest means she would never trust you again, but withholding the truth is not the proper thing either.”

“At times it feels completely impossible.”

“But you do like her?” Ben pressed.

James nodded. “Quite a lot, actually.”

“Well, that is a start, I suppose.”

“Given time, I hope we can find something more than that.” James was surprised at the strength of that hope. He wanted to find reason to believe their connection was based on more than lies and misplaced trust. He liked Daphne far more than he’d expected to. It confused him and pushed him forward all at once.