Page 32 of Earl for the Summer
“Something about his brother’s wishes. Frankly, I didn’t let him explain. I told him to leave.”
Ivy pressed her lips together and stared at the waning embers in the fireplace grate. “I can understand your anger. Especially after being deceived so recently by another gentleman, even if they had very different reasons for their duplicity.”
Daphne narrowed her eyes at her sister. “You think I should have given him a chance to explain?”
Ivy shook her head. “I don’t think you owed him anything. I’m just the curious sort.” She offered a soft smile, then reached out a hand to clasp Daphne’s. “Forgive me for not listening to you when you were so convinced he’d changed.”
“I knew something was off.”
“You did.”
“I’m not hopelessly gullible then?” Daphne waved her free hand. “Never mind. You need not reassure me.”
“You’re not gullible. You were sharp-eyed in this case. You know that Hyacinth and Marigold can fool people when they wish to. Yet you noticed the differences with Captain Rourke immediately.”
“Captain Rourke.” Daphne loathed the little flutter in her throat and the rush of warmth in her belly when she spoke his name. “What did you learn about him in your inquiries?”
“That he served for years in Her Majesty’s naval service, and admirably so, by all accounts. That he left service after an injury and?—”
“The scar on his face?”
“No, the information I gathered was that he was struck in the arm and chest by a rifle bullet. In Egypt.”
Those details put a lump in Daphne’s throat. As angry as she was with the man, the notion of him hurt and bleeding made tears threaten to fall again. She blinked them away.
Stroking her fingers against the pleating at the wrist of her nightdress, she looked at Ivy.
“What are you thinking of doing?” Ivy asked, leaning closer as if eager to join in with whatever she might have planned.
“Something reckless.”
Ivy tipped her head, a smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. “Tell me what it is and I’ll either help or try to talk you out of it.”
“He’s leaving London on a morning train.”
Ivy glanced at the mantel clock. “It’s nearly eleven in the evening.”
“So we’ll be very quiet when we sneak out.”
Ivy crossed her arms, stared at Daphne, seeming to ponder the prospect. “If we get caught, Lily will never forgive me for assisting you.”
“But?” Daphne could hear the excitement in her sister’s tone.
“But I believe you deserve an explanation, and there’s only one way to get it. Assuming he’s now done with fibbing and will tell you the truth.”
Daphne got out of bed and went to her wardrobe, pulling out a simple gown and her black hooded cloak. She pulled out another dark cloak and brought it over to Ivy.
“We’re going now?” Ivy asked, her voice lifting with eagerness.
“Yes,” Daphne told her as she slipped on a petticoat and then reached for her corset. “Before I can talk myself out it.”
Ivy, who still wore her gown from dinner, held out Daphne’s dress and helped her into it. Then they both donned cloaks. Daphne doused her bedside lamp, and Ivy collected the candle she’d brought with her.
Out in the hallway, all was quiet.
They quickly made their way down the stairs, then Ivy blew out her candle and left it on a side table in the front hall. Daphne unlatched the door and they slipped out into the night.
The door clicked shut behind them, the sound softened by the thick evening fog that drifted between the tall Georgian townhouses. Pausing at the top of the steps, Daphne held her skirts just above her ankles. Ivy glanced back toward the darkened windows of the house.
