Page 63 of The Villain
“Yes, well, some things never change,” Robert said, filling the awkward silence. “Lady Daphne has always been a unique sort of lady, sharing many of the same interests as Bertram and I. Quite rare to find in a woman, I must say.”
“Oh, I think our friend Bertie has developed quite a fewnewinterests over the years,” Adam muttered.
Daphne sputtered, nearly choking on a mouthful of Madeira. Setting her glass down, she broke into a coughing fit, her throat burning as she struggled to breathe through the wine she had nearly inhaled in response to Adam’s jibe. Of course, it would seem innocent to anyone who was ignorant to Bertram’s misdeeds.
Thankfully, the servants had just finished laying out the main course, and conversation faded to a minimum as the men served themselves and the women seated at their side. Adam filled her plate from the dishes closest to them, seeming to remember her preferences. During an intimate meal, where they dined alone, she might have found it endearing. However, she could feel the probing eyes of Robert and his mother upon them, seeming to catalog their interactions—theirfamiliarity.
“Quite a shame, the trouble that has recently befallen your family as of late, Lady Daphne,” Lady Stanley spoke up while using her knife to cut a portion of lamb.
Daphne paused with her fork halfway to her lips and frowned. She could not be certain exactly what the woman referred to given the events of the past five years.
“Thank you, my lady,” she replied, grasping at the first thing that came to mind. “The loss of Uncle William was quite a devastating blow.”
“Hmph,” the woman mumbled between bites of her lamb. “I am certain. Being forced to abandon Fairchild House in London must have only added to the strain.”
This time, it was Daphne who dropped her utensil, the shock of the woman’s words lodging in her gut like a dagger. Had her parents been forced to sell their townhome in London? Her grandfather had purchased that house in Grosvenor Square, one of the loftiest addresses in Mayfair. Did that mean they had returned to their estate in Suffolk? Circumstances there were even direr than in London—the lands producing just enough to cover the necessary expenses, and even some of those would soon be neglected. In the coming years, it might become a ruin … a relic of a long-forgotten family fallen into the gutter.
“I …. I …”
She fumbled for words, uncertain of how to respond when Lady Stanley had blindsided her. The woman gave her a knowing look … as if she had known Daphne to be ignorant of this development. Of course she was ignorant; she’d been acting as Adam’s whore for the past four weeks.
“Many families have faced ruin due to the actions of their patriarchs,” Adam cut in, his tone icy enough to lower the temperature in the room tremendously. “As we all know, young unmarried ladies are hardly to blame for the fates that befall them.”
Daphne swiveled her gaze to Adam, who might have reduced Lady Stanley to ash if looks could kill. The woman’s face reddened, but she simply returned her attention to her lamb.
Adam met her gaze and gave her a curt nod, as if to reassure her. But why? He had created this situation to gain his own ends. She was not stupid enough to believe he cared about the loss of Fairchild House. It had to have been just another step in his plan to ruin them.
Had he spoken up to protect her from Lady Stanley’s humiliation? No, he could not possibly care about that, either. This entire farce was about humiliating her.
Whatever the cause, she was grateful for the temporary reprieve. Though, she was hardly surprised by Lady Stanley’s behavior. The woman had never liked her, thinking her beneath her precious son—even though she was the daughter of a viscount, and Robert the son of a baron. Daphne was too wild, too unconventional to wed Robert, and the old biddy had made her thoughts on the subject known quite frequently.
The rest of dinner continued without another embarrassing incident, the conversation turning to small talk. Adam engaged Robert over fencing—an interest they shared, while Daphne sulked in silence, moving the food about on her plate to make it look as if she’d eaten. All the while, Robert watched her pensively. She shuddered to think what he might find if he looked too closely. Like the evidence of what Adam’s touch had turned her into, and how much she’d enjoyed it.
After the dessert course, Adam announced he would lead them on a tour. This, his guests seemed excited over, as many had only heard rumors of the old ruin of a castle the Earl of Hartmoor had turned into his own personal palace.
He kept a hand at the small of her back while leading the party down the winding halls of the castle, flaunting the music room and sun rooms, as well as the library. He impressed them all with his knowledge of the castle’s history, right down to the various builders who had influenced its aesthetic over the past few centuries. Even she found herself enthralled by the tales he weaved, some of the information being things he had not yet told her.
“I have heard rumors of secret passages and caverns,” said one of the gentlemen. “As well as an escape tunnel leading out to the shore?”
“Aye, there are many passages one could get lost in,” Adam confirmed. “The cave you refer to was used for escape in many of the battles that took place here. It leads through a postern gate and down the side of the escarpment on the north face. Would you like to see it?”
The entire group agreed collectively, even Lady Stanley seeming excited over being able to see this cavern for herself. Even Daphne could not help that her curiosity had been stoked, the cavern being one of the few places she had never seen.
They set off with Adam in the lead. He made a stop along the way to retrieve a large candelabra, using it to light their way as they moved toward darker parts of Dunnottar … the parts that had not yet been renovated. She found the darkened corridors beautiful in their starkness, the shadows clinging to various corners lending it all a gothic feel.
After a while, he led them into a long, dark corridor paved with stones. Adam chuckled when a few of the women gasped and whimpered in distress, moving closer to the men who had accompanied them.
“Never fear, ladies,” he quipped. “I am certain the brave men in our company would protect you from anything that might come rushing through this tunnel.”
The light he carried moved on, and they followed, the others walking past Daphne faster than she could keep up, eventually putting her toward the back of the procession. After a while, the stone gave way to earthen walls, and the ground beneath them began to slope sharply. The smell of earth mingled with that of the ocean as they drew nearer to the shore. Adam continued his tale of the battles that had been won and lost here, of the men who had only survived because of the tunnel they stood in. Her attention became stolen away by the hand brushing hers in the dark. A man’s hand.
“Daphne,” Robert whispered near her ear, his familiar scent flooding her nostrils as she leaned close. “Daphne, we must talk.”
Her gaze flitted to Adam’s shadow, large and ominous at the front of their group. He seemed oblivious to them, attending to the entertainment of his guests.
“Robert, please …”
His hand enclosed around hers, squeezing tight. “Just tell me if he’s hurt you, Daphne. Should I call him out?”
