Page 23 of Romancing Daphne

He doubted he would ever see eye to eye with his father on the matter of what constituted the best interests of the family. There was little point arguing with him.

“Have your solicitor draft a binding document with my required commitments from you.” James spoke as his heart dropped further into the coldest recesses of his soul. Even with a plan in place to protect him from an unwanted marriage and his firm commitment not to impose on Miss Lancaster if he could at all help it, he did not like the future that now lay before him one bit. “Then, and only then, will I so much as speak to Miss Lancaster again.”

“I will have the document ready by day’s end.” Father spun his signet ring about his finger quickly, eagerly.

Without a word of parting, James left the library. He was likely theonly gentleman in the entire kingdom who desperately hoped a young lady with enviable connections, social standing second to none, and a fortune of £20,000 would meet his efforts at courtship with complete and utter rejection.

Chapter Nine

Daphne sat in her usualspot in Adam’s book room. He occupied a nearby armchair. Their daily time together had of necessity grown more rare with the start of the Season. She took tremendous comfort in the fact that he had seemed as grateful for her presence that afternoon as she had been for the opportunity to spend time with him again. How often she had pleaded with her father for a small space beside him while he’d worked or for a moment of his attention. For years, he’d turned her away, until she’d eventually stopped asking.

At twelve years old, she had taken trembling steps into this very book room and posed to Adam the same question she had to her father so many times. Years of rejection had echoed painfully in her heart and mind as she’d waited for his answer. He had nodded and motioned her to the same sofa she sat on now. For six years, she had spent time with him nearly every day. He had welcomed her, something for which she would be forever grateful.

“Talk of hostilities with the former colonies grows more specific by the day.” Adam often spoke to her of the matters before Parliament. “A great many in both Lords and Commons feel any difficulties across the ocean would be easily put to rest, as ours is the superior naval power.”

“As I understand it, that was the argument thirty-five years ago, and we all know the outcome of those hostilities,” she said. “And at that time, we weren’t already fighting a war nearer home as we are now. Parliament would do well to proceed with caution.”

He nodded. “If even a fraction of those in a position of influence had your intelligence, this country would be in far better condition.”

A knock echoed off the slightly ajar book room door. Daphne andAdam both turned in that direction. The butler stepped inside, a vase ofbright flowers in his hand.

He addressed Adam, as was proper. “This has arrived, Your Grace, for Miss Lancaster.”

Daphne eyed the bouquet in disbelief. Athena had received countless floral tributes during her Season. After hostessing a ball or gathering, guests often sent flowers to Persephone. But Daphne had never received a single flower—not from Adam or Harry or either of her own brothers.

“You are certain they were sent to me?” she asked the butler.

“Quite certain, Miss Lancaster.” He set the vase on the end table directly beside the sofa, then, with a bow, stepped from the room again.

She pulled a small sealed note from amongst the blooms. Did a lady generally wait until she was in the privacy of her own bedchamber to read the accompanying message? Asking Adam would do no good. He wasn’t likely to know how she was meant to act in such a situation.

She attempted to appear quite casual as she eyed the as-yet-unopened note. Who could the flowers be from? Why were they sent? Adam would not have thought to do so, having referred to the offerings from Athena’s many admirers as “ridiculous” on multiple occasions.

“Holding a note and not reading it seems a waste of effort,” Adam said.

“Are you eager to know who sent the flowers?” She tried for a teasing tone, hoping to hide her growing impatience.

“I only want to know if I need to squelch anyone’s presumptuousness.”

“Adam, we talked about this. You promised—”

He sighed, the sound full of exasperated acceptance. “I agreed to be less surly in public. I made no promise about my own book room.”

Daphne’s heart leaped as she slowly, carefully opened the note. Her eyes dropped first to the signature at the bottom of the note. “Ld Tilburn.” The flowers werefrom James. She kept her expression calm, not wishing to give Adam further reason to find flowers and those who sent and received them as ludicrous.

She eagerly read the note.

Miss Lancaster,

I must abjectly apologize for my absence last evening at theDebenhams’ ball. Though I had hoped to see you again, I was detained. I pray these flowers will serve as an adequate expression of my dismay at being denied your company.

Yours, etc.

Ld Tilburn

It was a far more earnest note than she would have expected. He had always been friendly, but this note felt . . . different from that somehow. It felt like something a gentleman would write to a lady with whom he had a much closer connection than they had. The wording as well as the sentiment felt mismatched to the sender.

“You appear deep in thought.”

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