Chapter Eight
Two days later, Arthur found himself at the viscount’s front door. He hadn’t returned to the festivities after his disastrous attempt at helping Lady Daphne. He made his excuses for not going yesterday, and today it was raining and he certainly wasn’t into a day of parlor games.
He’d sent word ahead to the viscount that he would be coming rather than simply showing up.
It was his intention to inform Andover of his feelings for his daughter and his wish to court her.
His only competitor was the earl, and given he outranked the Earl of Bath, in both title and finances, Andover might be more open.
His daughter marrying a wealthy duke far outdid what the earl had to offer.
The butler showed him into the drawing room, telling him the viscount would be with him shortly. The first thing Arthur noticed as he looked about the room was that Sam, the parrot, was missing. The viscount probably didn’t want the bird near strangers considering Sam’s colorful language.
Hearing the door open once again, Arthur turned to see Andover entering the room. “Your Grace, what can I do for you?”
“I have a matter I wish to discuss with you. It’s of a rather delicate nature.”
“Go on,” the viscount urged. He walked over to a sideboard and poured two whiskeys. He offered one to Arthur. “Why don’t we sit?”
“It’s in regard to your daughter, Lady Daphne.”
“I thought as much.”
Taking a sip of whiskey, Arthur looked the viscount in the eyes. “I would like your permission to court Lady Daphne.”
“Does my daughter know your intentions?”
“I can’t be sure. I’ve let her know my feelings and desire to court her, but as you know, your daughter is a complicated young lady.”
“She is that,” Andover said with a smile. “She can be exhausting, and she’s my daughter. You do know the Earl of Bath has shown an interest to marry Lady Daphne.”
“I do, and I think that would be disastrous. A marriage to the earl would break Lady Daphne’s spirit.”
“My daughter needs a firm hand. She’s been coddled far too long.”
“I’m sure I’m up to the task.”
Arthur watched as Andover shifted in his seat and polished off his whiskey. He set the glass on a table next to him. “The earl has left for London to secure a special license while he conducts business. He’ll be gone at least a fortnight. When he returns, he’ll be expecting to marry Lady Daphne.”
He wasn’t expecting this. He’d hoped the earl would have admitted defeat and moved on, but apparently that wasn’t the case. How could he convince the viscount otherwise?
“Would you be amenable to my escorting Lady Daphne to the masquerade party? Perhaps one or two more times before the Earl of Bath returns?”
“I’m not sure that would be wise. Everyone knows the earl’s interest in my daughter.” Andover sat there, his eyes closed. He was realizing he had made a pact with the devil himself.
“I could pay more attention to her for the remainder of the house party. I could take her riding, have her for dinner, those sorts of things. No one would have to know of these other times spent together.”
Finally, Andover nodded. “Very well. I agree. Ask her to dance more than is customary. That should help your cause.”
“Thank you,” Arthur replied. There was a glimmer of hope. He would now just need to show her the error of her ways if she married the old geezer.
“Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a lot of work to do if you want to win her over to your side.”
Arthur arched a brow. “She’s not actually considering marriage to the earl?”
“Absolutely not. She has been most vocal about not wanting me to choose who she marries.”
“Of course. She made it well known to me that she would choose who she married.”
The rain seemed to be getting heavier because it was hitting the French doors at an angle, causing both men to look over. Arthur knew he needed to get back home. The more the rain continued, the worse the roads would become.
“By the way, where is Sam? The house is quiet without him.”
“That foul mouthed parrot is with Daphne. I told her I wouldn’t tolerate him being loose and walking through the house cursing.”
Arthur stood and rose to his full height. “Thank you for seeing me. I’ll call on Lady Daphne another time or at my sister’s for sure. The weather seems to be getting worse and I should head home.”
“If you’d like to see her for a moment before you leave, I’ll arrange it.”
He nodded. It would be nice to see her since their ill-fated night in the garden. “I’d like that.”
Andover left the room for a few minutes, returning with his daughter. Daphne smiled, seeing who it was. She was dressed in a moss-green day dress with darker green piping on the hem, sleeves, and bodice. She looked every part the goddess he knew her to be.
“Lady Daphne.”
“Your Grace. It’s a nasty day to be calling on people.”
“It’s gotten worse since I left home. I came by to speak with your father. Did he tell you why?”
She glanced at her father and then him. “No.”
“I thought it best coming from you, Your Grace.”
Nodding, Arthur watched her to see if he could tell what she was thinking. She was too good at hiding her feelings, even from him. “I came to ask your father if I may court you.”
“What about the earl?”
“The duke is going to court you until he returns,” Andover said. “At that time, you must make a decision of who you want to marry.”
“Don’t you think people will think it odd?”
“I don’t think we’ll be so blatant. I’ll call on you to go riding, or for dinner. At the masquerade party, the final night of the house party, I’ll ask you to dance more than twice. We’ll muddle through it.”
“Very well. I’ll agree to this, but only because I refuse to marry that old toad.”
“Daphne!” her father said sternly.
“I won’t apologize because that’s what he is, and I can’t believe you agreed to it. What are you doing? Are you having second thoughts about the earl?”
Andover nodded. “I suppose I might be.”
“Well, Your Grace, I suppose I should be looking forward to our encounters.”
“I thought perhaps I might call on you tomorrow?”
She looked at her father for advice. “We’re not going to the house party until dinner tomorrow. Unless you’d like to go with the ladies for a trip to the village.”
“No. I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Your Grace,” she replied with a curtsey.
That sounded like sarcasm coming from her lips, but he took it in stride. He was sure he’d get a good tongue lashing tomorrow. She didn’t like feeling she wasn’t in control.
“Until then. I should get going in case this storm decides to get worse.”
Andover and his daughter walked him to the front door where the three said their good-byes.
Not hearing the door close as he hurriedly walked down the stairs, he looked back in the direction of the door as he approached his carriage.
Lady Daphne was standing there alone with her shawl pulled tightly around her.
When he caught her looking at him, she retreated into the house, closing the door behind her.
A few moments later he was in his carriage, heading back to his estate.
The sky was a dark gray and the rain still coming down at an angle as he watched it from the comfort of his coach.
He felt as though a giant weight had been lifted from his chest. Now all he had to do was make all this work to bring Daphne over to his side.
He knew she was stubborn and arrogant, thinking she was above others.
If he could show her he was on her side, things would go so much easier.
He was certain it was mostly an act. She was a strong young woman with her own opinions and there were certain things about which she did not want decisions being made for her.
Marriage was one of them, and he had no intention of standing aside and watching her enter a loveless, arranged marriage like his sister had.
He would start with sending her flowers and other trinkets to let her know she was on his mind. What woman didn’t like to receive flowers? Other things they could do before it got too cold was riding. He had the feeling she was quite an expert when it came to horses.
A large clap of thunder made him come to his senses and back to reality as the carriage turned down the drive heading to the manor.
He’d planned to go back to the party this afternoon, but with the weather, he changed his mind.
Roxanne would understand. As long as he made it to the special events, she was fine, and she knew not to push him.
Moments later, he was handing his hat and greatcoat to the butler, who in turn passed it off to a waiting footman.
The air, he decided, had gotten cooler, so he thought to go to his study and finish going over the estate manager’s reports.
His study was one room in the house he knew to be warm on days like this.
He closed the door behind him as he entered the dark paneled room.
A fire was going, making things quite comfortable.
He tried to concentrate on the figures before him, but the numbers kept blurring together.
He couldn’t get her out of his mind; she was distracting him from his work.
Maybe that was a good thing. Much of his time was devoted to the estate and other business interests.
He always assumed his duchess would just fall in his lap with no effort from him.
Was this what was happening with Daphne?
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