Patrica Rice (3 page)

Now that she had his arm, she moved gracefully and with some assurance, despite her limp. He could almost believe he was calmly walking down Bond Street with a beautiful companion for all she showed any fear of the situation.

“Shouldn’t you be afraid of me?” he asked out of curiosity.

She tilted her head to look up at him. “Utterly terrified,’’ she assured him.

“You’re roasting me.”

His reply was so decisive and so much the gallant chatter of London that Daphne smiled. “My word, sir, how you do go on. Do you doubt my sincerity?”

He chuckled at the mimicry. She sounded just like one of the lovely Toasts of the Season he had briefly flirted with a lifetime ago. London hadn’t changed much then.

“I shall try not to doubt you in the future. I fear I would lose any battle of wits with you. Can you see the light now?”

The welcoming gleam glittered not too far off
.
Daphne sighed in relief and released his arm. She preferred company against the night terrors, but even she wasn’t mad enough to believe this man was safer than the light ahead. “There are no surprises between here and there?”

“Just lawn. I wish I dared lead you closer....”

Daphne waved a hand in dismissal. “I shall be fine. This is all very adventurous. I think I shall enjoy the country more than I suspected.’’ She offered her best imitation of courage. “Shall we say good night, then?”

It was utterly preposterous, but he bent over her hand as if he had just escorted her to her townhouse and delivered her safely into the hands of her servants. He felt a light squeeze, then she stepped  onto the lawn, tentatively testing the uneven expanse of ground before proceeding haltingly toward the cottage.

The highwayman stepped back into the shadows, wishing he could at least have had her name.

Chapter Two

“I regret that you had to meet with such an inhospitable welcome to our neighborhood. Miss Templeton.” The tall gentleman settled into the seat across from Daphne as her aunt handed him a cup of tea.

He smelled of fresh air and faintly of horses, not of bay rum, yet his voice ... Daphne held back her frown as she accepted the cup given her. “Actually, it was the most adventurous night of my life, though I know I shouldn’t say that.’’

She was twenty-three years old and about to embark on an independent life of her own. People would have to begin accepting her as she was, she vowed. No more would she keep her tongue still for fear every word would be held against her. The man across from her was in all likelihood considered very eligible, he spoke with that kind of confidence, but she had no intention of trying to impress him.

“Adventurous? Surely not. Your poor aunt can only be relieved that you came to no harm. It was a reckless thing to do. I am quite grateful no more came of it than this. Until now, the man and his band of thieves have harmed no one, but if he continues, I fear we will find the village and its environs overrun with soldiers.”

Daphne sipped her tea and tried to puzzle her way through the variety of clues the man’s words seemed to leave unsaid. His voice still bothered her. He had been introduced as Gordon, Lord Griffin, and his cultured accents evidenced his claim to aristocracy. The squareness of his strong face and the burnished gleam of his golden-brown hair gave her no clue, however. She had never met the man before—not to recognize, leastways.

But his voice revealed a strong similarity to the highwayman’s. There were differences. Lord Griffin’s voice was quieter, his accents a little more refined. Of course, he spoke in a lady’s drawing room. A gentleman would more likely speak with gentleness there. Yet, the thief s voice had the ring of command to it that this man’s did not. And she remembered a hint of amusement behind many of the thief s words, while this gentleman seemed all that was proper and concerned.

His words, too, were odd. Who was reckless? She, or the highwayman? She didn’t think highwaymen were supposed to be anything but reckless. Did this area breed cautious thieves, then? The idea made her lips turn up in a smile, and lost in her own thoughts, Daphne didn’t notice the suddenly smitten look on the young man’s face.

“I should think the government would find better uses for its men than combing the countryside for a gentleman thief,” she said. “Is there some reason for your concern over a sudden inundation of handsome soldiers? I should think the ladies in the area would be delighted.”

The viscount’s usually serious mien offered a tentative smile. “You are quizzing me, Miss Templeton. I do not fear the competition of a company of soldiers. In fact, it might be a great relief to my social obligations.”

He lowered his cup. “No, I fear the havoc such men can wreak in our peaceful village. I have no liking for guns in an area that previously knew only contented sheep and cows. As you saw last night, the presence of the military resulted in near catastrophe. I am convinced the highwayman would never have harmed you had those soldiers not appeared.”

How very extremely odd. He seemed to be defending the highwayman. Most men would have blustered and declared all thieves should be hung or transported. Was be laughing at her as people so often did behind her back? Could this be the highwayman sitting right here in her aunt’s drawing room, laughing at her? She didn’t like to think so.

“You are exceedingly considerate of your resident thief, Lord Griffin. Wouldn’t it be more proper to be out hunting him down?” There, let him see that she doubted his sincerity.

It was her aunt who answered. “Oh no, you don’t understand, at all, my dear.”

Lady Templeton wasn’t much taller than Daphne, but her regal carriage gave the impression of height. Exceedingly slender to the point of thinness, she dressed in the full skirts and whalebone of an earlier age, and her petticoats rustled as she moved.

“Our highwayman apparently pictures himself as something of a Robin Hood. He only robs those wealthy enough to afford the loss. He is always exceedingly polite. And the next day, some poor unfortunate in the area is blessed with those things he needs most. If there is illness in the house, a physician is paid to visit. If the children are without shoes, several pair appear on the doorstep. He seems always to know who is in the most need. It is tremendously exciting to the villagers, of course, although a few passing nobles may have a different view on the sport.”

Daphne was beginning to like her Aunt Agatha better and better, despite the whispers of London gossip about her. Her aunt possessed a sharp mind and a blunt tongue. She could well picture the dismay of certain drunken gentlemen galloping through the countryside being brought up short by the reckless highwayman or Robin Hood. But still, it was wrong.

“It would be much more sensible did he find decent employment and share his earnings for charitable purposes,’’ Daphne announced determinedly. “Frightening people in me dead of night is not the work of a gentleman.”

Lord Griffin spoke firmly in agreement. “You are quite correct. Miss Templeton. He must be stopped.”

He set the incongruously small teacup aside and rose to his towering full height as he bowed politely over her hand. “I regret that I cannot linger. I only wished to see for myself that you escaped unscathed. You are a very brave lady. I hope I can expect your company at a small entertainment I will be holding on Friday?”

Daphne smiled acceptance, and he departed.

Agatha watched her niece’s dazed stare follow the viscount out, and she smiled. “He is a handsome, polite young man, is he not? How very fortunate that he chose to live here this summer instead of returning to his grandfather’s estate. His father only died last year, you know.”

“Did he? How very sad. Were they close?” Daphne picked up her teacup again and feigned disinterest. There was a mystery here, she was sure of it. Two voices could not be so similar, and the viscount seemed almost the exact same height and size as the masked highwayman.

“I do not know if they were close. They seldom resided here except when the boys were younger, for a summer or two. They seemed happy enough, as lads do. Poor man, hard on the heels of his father’s death, he lost his brother, too. Very tragic. It is strange he is not still in full mourning. He has been very brave about all this.”

“Brother?” Daphne forgot to show disinterest as she turned to her aunt. “Older brother?”

“No, younger. He was quite distraught. I cannot believe they’ve been close these past years since Evan has been overseas in the military, but as boys, I believe they were. It is a pity. He is such a nice young man. And he seemed quite struck with you, too. I cannot imagine why you have not married before this. In my day, the gentlemen would have been at your door on bended knee in your first Season.”

“Perhaps, dear aunt,’’ Daphne replied, smiling sympathetically, “Lord Griffin was so kind because you have not yet informed him of my history. That was thoughtful of you, but someone is certain to tell him sooner or later.”

“Fustian! What your mother did is no reflection on you. You are quite as sensible as I am. And you don’t appear at all the invalid. My brother was simply much too protective of you. I can understand, you are his only daughter, and he wanted what was best for you, but men are so extremely foolish sometimes. I will rely on your own good sense to decide what you wish to do and how much you wish to tell to whom. I’m just too happy to have your company to complain.”

Since her aunt had never married and had happily lived here the better part of her life without any sort of a companion, Daphne felt there might be a modicum of insincerity in this last, but she appreciated the thought.

Leaning over, she kissed her aunt’s cheek. “You must tell me when I become an awful nuisance. I am grateful for your invitation, but I do not wish to be a burden.”

“Off with you, then. I can see you are spilling over with energy and the need to be about. Oh, to be young again,” she sighed, and casually dismissed her niece.

Daphne hurriedly departed for the gardens. She had missed having her own garden in London. Perhaps her aunt wouldn’t mind if she dabbled a little in this one.

* * * *

A few days later, feeling bolder. Daphne borrowed one of Lady Agatha’s placid carriage horses to begin exploring the lines of the property. A groom offered to accompany her, but as she had no intention of going any distance she politely declined. She wanted to try being alone again, to learn living with herself without critical eyes following her every action.

The horse made an excellent guide. He willingly responded when she noticed the line of trees along the riverbank and turned toward them. She hadn’t realized this area was so close to her aunt’s house, and curious, she wished to explore.

Not familiar with the terrain. Daphne found an old tree stump to use for dismounting, and trailing the reins in her hands, she methodically worked her way into the grove. To her, it seemed a vast, lonely forest of towering limbs and trunks, but she suspected it was merely a rough piece of land unsuitable for farming.

She heard the rush of water and felt the downward slope and knew the river was near, but judging from the distance she had been carried from the place the highwayman left her until she reached her aunt’s, this was a different part of the river than she had seen that night.

The day was warm and the shade felt deliciously cool. She hated the restriction of her heavy riding habit, but she was not yet brave enough to discard appropriate attire in public. Alone here, she unfastened the jacket and threw it over her saddle. A breeze whispered through the linen of her shirt and ruffled the jabot, and she smiled in delight at this small freedom. It was good to be herself again.

The horse whickered, and Daphne hesitated, looking cautiously around. She could see the tree trunks sloping downhill. There did not seem to be any dangerous precipice. All was quiet around her except for the crunch of her feet in the dried leaves. That was when she realized it was too quiet.

In the field she had crossed, birds had been singing. It was spring, after all, and the trees should be full of bird song. Perhaps her presence had intruded, but it had been quiet even before she entered the grove. She stood still, waiting to hear the sounds of scampering feet or rushing wings that she remembered hearing when she stood quietly in the woods of her home.

Nothing. Not a sound. A ripple of fear coursed down her spine, but Daphne proceeded onward, more determined than ever not to be frightened. It was broad daylight. There was nothing to fear of the day.

A moment later, she had the distinct impression of being watched. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she frowned in concentration, trying to find the source of the sensation. No movement caught her eye, yet the feeling was all around her.

Annoyed at herself, refusing to admit her fears were becoming irrational, Daphne looked up, trying to scan the density of the branches overhead. A patch of blue appeared where she didn’t think there ought to be sky, and her heart lurched nervous.

Determined to conquer her fears, she announced firmly, “Whoever is there, come down at once. I do not like being spied upon. It is impolite and cowardly.”

A chuckle and a rustle followed her words, and before she could jump back, a tall, lithe form dropped from the branches to land at her feet. The scent of bay rum was stronger this morning, and she scowled.

“You! I should have known. I carry no jewels or money today. What is your purpose in frightening me this time?”

Pulling his hat farther down over his face, and relying on the obscurity of the dense shade, the intruder caught her elbow and began to turn her back the way she had come. “I don’t think anyone or anything is capable of frightening you, Miss Templeton. I think it is all a hum. Where is your groom if you fear walking on uncertain ground? You shouldn’t be wandering about alone.”

Daphne shook her arm free and halted their progress. “Do you tell all the ladies to stay at home where they belong? Fie on you, sir. And how do you know my name?”

She could see his broad shoulders in the fitted blue coat lift in a shrug, but she could not see his face. “This is a small village, Miss Templeton. Everyone knows everything. And any young lady of good breeding should be accompanied. There are brigands living along this river whom you wouldn’t like to meet.”