Dangerous in Diamonds - Madeline Hunter [27]
Hardly.
“Well, we must find a way to all enjoy a diversion together while you are here,” Verity said. “I will put my mind to it and consult with Celia. Town is quiet in summer, but we should be able to find something we can all do. A picnic, perhaps. Castleford would probably find that boring, however.”
“There is no need to invite him, then. Is there?”
Verity shrugged and donned her bonnet again. “I must go. If you find it too lonely here, you are welcome to stay with us. I don’t know why you did not write and ask to do so in the first place. You would not be an intrusion, Daphne. I know that you and Hawkeswell did not rub on well together at first, but he is very fond of you now. In fact, he asked for any news about you just two days ago.”
Daphne saw her out. She wished she could believe that Hawkeswell would not mind a guest, but to say they had not rubbed on well together was being polite. She wanted to believe that as Castleford arranged this, he had been sensitive to that.
All the same, she guessed that she was not visiting with Verity mostly because Castleford did not want her visiting with Verity.
Castleford had his coach stop in the park. He alighted and strolled to the park’s entrance, then walked up Park Lane.
His discretion was not only for Mrs. Joyes’s sake. He did not mind gossip about himself if it was of the normal sort, but he did not want it reported that he pursued a woman. Wagging tongues would make too much of it, because it was generally known that he never bothered with such exertions.
He never had to. Usually all it took was an expression of interest and a few gifts, and soon the biggest challenge was how to free himself of the affair when he tired of it. The ends could be so complicated that he rarely bothered with the beginnings anymore. Life was easier if he restricted himself to professional women.
Yet here he was, making a social call on a woman in midday. He could not remember when he had last done so. The realization that he was about to break with his more sensible practices had annoyed him, until a bottle of good wine at his club put a better light on it.
He grudgingly admitted that Daphne Joyes and her cool composure had occupied his mind more than he liked the last ten days. It was all her fault too.
His interest in her might have passed quickly and normally if she had not thrown down a gauntlet. Several of them, to his mind. He was not a man to stand down from a challenge, and hers had provoked his mind even more than his pride. The only way to find peace when that happened was to follow where such fascinations led him and see them through to the end.
Usually that only meant cornering government lackeys into answering his questions, to learn what cards some minister had up his sleeve. Sometimes the curiosity required more active investigations. On occasion the puzzles absorbed his attention for weeks.
He doubted that the object of his current stimulation would require much time to exorcise, however.
Most men might believe it demeaning to arrive at a woman’s door on foot, but he did not care about such things because he, unlike most men, knew his worth. Well fortified with the wine that instilled a beatific sense of well-being, he presented his card to one very astonished servant.
Castleford amused himself with the paintings in the drawing room while he waited for Mrs. Joyes. He was lost in mentally improving the composition of an extravagant mythological scene by Le Sueur when the servant returned.
“Mrs. Joyes is not at home, Your Grace.” The young man stammered it out, then flushed and averted his eyes. “I sincerely regret to inform you of that, sir. Most sincerely.”
The footman looked young, green, and mortified to be delivering that message to a duke. As damned well he should be. Castleford did not hide his irritation and pointedly ignored how the footman positioned himself to escort the visitor out.
Women were never this bold. Even the ones afraid of him,