Dangerous in Diamonds - Madeline Hunter [54]
“And now he is a duke, and he can be cruel and no one will gainsay him. Small wonder he appeared so happy tonight.”
They reached the end of the path. Lanterns beckoned ahead and the noise of the gardens flowed in a low din.
“He seemed much taken by you,” he said. “He sought me out to learn who you were for certain.”
“I wish he had not seen me or learned my name now.” She fought to keep fear from her tone, but the idea that Latham now knew her name terrified her. “I do not think he was much taken at all. He guesses I know the truth about him. He does not like the fact that I am friends with people whose opinions may matter.”
“Perhaps that is all it is. Perhaps not. If he pursues you, you must tell me.”
She laughed. “There are men who might be rivals for you, Castleford, but he is not one of them.”
“All the same, you must tell me.”
They sought out the rest of their party and headed back to the stairs. Castleford hailed the barge, which waited down the riverbank.
Celia gave Daphne a knowing look as they stepped onto the deck. “You do know he is nothing but trouble,” she said privately.
Daphne thought she meant Latham, and was about to agree. Then she realized her friend had drawn conclusions about her time alone tonight with Castleford.
Celia tipped her head closely. “Although, it is said, he gives his lovers magnificent gifts, so if one is of a mind to be foolish—well, my mother always said one can court scandal with a rich man as well as a poor one.”
The mention of gifts made Daphne’s gaze dart to the table. She went up to the dinner table and peered down. No sparkles flashed near where she had sat. She wondered if the diamond had rolled onto the floor, or if one of the servants or crew had taken it.
“I have it.” Castleford stood at her shoulder. “I took it back, to have it set. Ear bobs, I have decided. That means it needs a mate.”
“I do not need diamond ear bobs. I do not want you to do this.”
“I know. But you will have them anyway, so I can see you in them—and nothing else, I might add. You can sell them afterwards, if you want.”
Afterwards.
Never let it be said that the Duke of Castleford did not make his intentions clear. All of them.
Chapter Twelve
The weather turned hot the next day. So hot that Castleford, while he lay abed the next morning, actually entertained the notion of going down to the country.
That was peculiar. He loathed the country.
Only this time, if he went, he would take Daphne. They could make love in the lake. He had never found that notion appealing before, but imagining her naked and slicked with water was changing his thinking on it.
His mind was full of such images when the mail came up with his coffee. He flipped through the letters, stacking them against his naked chest while he sipped. He decided they could all wait for Mr. Edwards’s return. At the bottom of the pile, however, he found a fat letter from Mr. Edwards himself.
It would hardly do to hand the man his own letter to answer, so he tore it open. Four pages unfolded.
After beginning with aggrieved complaints about bedbugs, Edwards moved on to a lengthy, boring, exacting description of the engineers’ progress.
At the bottom of the third page, the tone and penmanship changed. Mr. Edwards broke off his report abruptly, then scrawled with visible agitation that a stranger had just been seen on the property, spying on the house. He had given chase to no avail—his words managed to convey his breathlessness from the run—but he worried now about the ladies, if this enterprise had attracted attention to the point where strangers trespassed.
He begged His Grace to advise him on what to do with this dangerous complication that jeopardized both the privacy of His Grace’s business