Chapter 14
One month’s worth of pin money had gained Daphne the cooperation of Paddy, one of the Sumnerson footmen. Paddy agreed to accompany her as she traipsed through the streets of Mayfair in the middle of the night in an attempt to find out why Ambrose had not returned after his meeting with Lord Archbroke.
Daphne wrapped her coat tighter about her shoulders. Plagued with concern for Ambrose’s welfare, she continued down the path that appeared familiar. She stopped at the corner and looked about. Blast. They’d stopped at the very same corner not but a half hour ago. Good gracious, she’d traversed these same streets during broad daylight to visit Alice many a time with her maid over the years, why could she not find her way now?
Daphne looked up at the footman who was standing to her right. “Paddy, won’t you help me?”
The footman who was five years her junior replied, “I’ll happily escort you back home if that is where you wish to go, but I’ll not be responsible should you find your way to Lord Harlowe’s residence.”
The quarter moon was overhead and time was running out. If she focused on her task instead of ruminating about Ambrose, she might succeed in finding her intended destination. She closed her eyes and pictured her route. “We shall continue on, for I shall not return home until I’ve completed my mission.”
Paddy groaned. “Very well, my lady.”
Her eyes popped open and noted Paddy was already a few feet in front of her to her left, the opposite direction she had intended to set off in. Reinvigorated by Paddy’s begrudging help, Daphne ran to catch up to the footman.
Paddy said over his shoulder, “His Lordship had better come up to snuff after this.”
“Beg pardon?” Daphne nearly ran into Paddy as he suddenly stopped and turned to face her.
The footman reached out and steadied Daphne before quickly releasing her. “Lord Harlowe had best declare his intentions to meet ye at the altar.”
“But he already has.”
“Is that so? Then why has he not met with Viscount Sumnerson?”
Paddy’s question caught her off guard. Here she had spent the day worrying and not once had it occurred to her that Ambrose had failed to seek out an audience with her papa. She met Paddy’s direct gaze and replied, “That’s an excellent question, one I intend to ask once we reach Lord Harlowe’s home.”
Paddy set off again and grumbled, “Lord save me from stubborn ladies.”
Chin tucked into her cloak, she followed Paddy paying no mind to which direction they were headed. It hadn’t occurred to her before that she all too easily placed her fate in others’ hands. That was about to change.
Paddy stopped and held out his arm to usher her through a garden gate to enter the back alley. “This way, my lady.”
They both froze at the sound of male voices and the whinnying of horses being readied.
“Thought his lordship was stayin’ in tonight,” a footman grumbled.
Daphne tugged on Paddy’s sleeve. “Is he talking about Lord Harlowe?”
Paddy pressed a finger over his lips and nodded.
A coachman tugged on the collar of his great coat. “When a man receives an invitation from Madame Sinclair, he best make haste.”
Paddy’s large hands covered Daphne’s ears and she couldn’t make out the rest of the conversation between the Harlowe staff. Daphne reached for Paddy’s wrists and twisted out of his hold as Ambrose’s carriage moved down the alley.
Hands on her hips, Daphne asked, “Why in the blazes is Ambrose off to see Madame Sinclair in the middle of the night?”
Paddy wagged his eyebrows at her.
She shook her head in disbelief at the idea Ambrose was off to a bawdy house to spend the evening in another woman’s bed. “Lord Harlowe wouldn’t…”
She didn’t want to believe that after declaring his love for her, after all these years, Ambrose would seek out the arms of another woman. Perhaps she had misunderstood. Her heart sank. She’d overheard many a gentleman and on more than one occasion, counting down the hours at a ball, and boasting of receiving a coveted invitation to Madame Sinclair’s bed. The woman’s invitations were considered like golden tickets among her peers of the opposite sex.
Daphne brushed the moisture gathering in the corner of her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m ready to return home.”
Paddy nodded and led her back through the garden gate. He pushed her behind him out of sight at the sound of the clip clop of hooves upon the cobbled stone street. Daphne peered around Paddy and witnessed with her own eyes Ambrose lounging in his carriage looking out of the window. Moonlight highlighted his profile and the lopsided smirk Daphne had treasured in the past was firmly in place. She clutched her cloak to her chest at the knee-buckling ache stabbing her heart.
She had been too eager to agree to marry Ambrose. Too eager to overlook his desperate need for funds. Too much in love, blinded to all the man’s faults. That was in the past. She stepped around Paddy and marched down the street. She was going to forge her own path, one that did not lead to heartache.