Dangerous in Diamonds - Madeline Hunter [41]
Daphne looked out the window, perplexed. “Is he in the garden? I saw no one in the library or front sitting room.”
“He is with Jonathan. They went to the park for a private talk.”
Just then the sounds of a door opening reached Daphne’s ears. The boots that entered the house did not stop at the front chambers but continued toward the back of the house.
Celia’s blue eyes widened in alarm. She glanced down at her soiled apron, quickly untied it, and threw it behind the settee. Her cap followed it. Celia dressed her golden hair so artfully that it made her appear ready for a dinner party no matter how simple her dress might be.
Daphne watched the hurried preparations. She hoped this visitor did not expect her to do the same. Her lilac muslin would have to be good enough.
The steps closed on them. Jonathan appeared in the doorway. Celia gave him a good glare, then quickly masked her face with a broad smile just in time for the visitor’s entry.
Daphne almost dropped the pot she held when she saw the man with Jonathan. Celia might have warned her!
Celia curtsied and Castleford bowed while they exchanged greetings. He turned to Daphne. She remembered to curtsy too.
Celia hid any fluster beneath well-trained poise. “Your Grace, my apologies for not greeting you when you arrived.” She gestured helplessly around the chamber at the plants and dirt. “You can see that I had reason to be less than appropriately dressed for visitors.”
“My dear Mrs. Albrighton, you can never be other than lovely to a visitor’s eye.”
“I hear it said that Lord Castleford is not a stickler about such things, Celia,” Daphne said. “Indeed, he is very open-minded on the entire question of appropriate dress, even when entertaining, I am told. Is that true, Your Grace?”
“It depends entirely on the visitor I entertain, Mrs. Joyes, as well as the form of the entertainment.”
Jonathan smiled and Celia giggled at the bawdy allusions. No wonder Castleford was incorrigible, Daphne thought. Everyone indulged him and only encouraged him to preen in his delight in his own badness.
He had effectively silenced her, however. She could not think of a clever comeback, try as she might.
“The afternoon is warm, Your Grace. May I offer some refreshment?” Celia asked. “Some lemon and honey punch, perhaps? We can all enjoy the garden.”
Daphne all but rolled her eyes. Celia did not know Castleford well if she thought this duke would want to sit in a garden drinking punch. Fortunately, the offer would get rid of him fast.
“That sounds splendid, Mrs. Albrighton. You are too kind.” He turned ever so graciously to Daphne. “I trust you will join us, Mrs. Joyes. I would not want to think that my visit caused you to shorten your own.”
“Of course she will join us,” Celia said. “She is the last woman to run away from anything, even you, Your Grace.”
Celia thought herself very humorous, from the sparks in her eyes. Jonathan’s smile turned a little sardonic.
Trapped before she had time to plan an escape, Daphne of course agreed to join them.
The gentlemen went out to the garden. Celia pulled Daphne aside. “Oh, dear. I just realized that the punch is down below and Miriam—”
“Go out to your esteemed guest, Celia. I will bring the punch.”
“Mrs. Joyes will join us soon,” Mrs. Albrighton said as she settled on the chair her husband held for her. “My woman has taken ill, and, fortunately, Mrs. Joyes is not only capable in every way but also not too proud to help a friend in need.”
Castleford muttered words of admiration for a woman not too proud. Mrs. Joyes had looked none too pleased to see him walk in that sitting room. She might take a good while to arrive with the punch.
In the meantime, here he was, hellishly sober on a sunny afternoon, about to spend a good deal of time talking about nothing of importance.