Chapter 15
Trailing after the one you loved had its risks and rewards. Seated opposite his sister in his traveling coach, Ambrose pulled back the curtain and was blinded by the bright late-summer sunlight. “I’m sorry.”
Alice snapped her book closed and asked, “And what are you apologizing for this time?”
For the last five months he’d placed his sister in the awful position of intermediary. After his initial consultation with Madame Sinclair, during which he’d unabashedly explained his dilemma, Daphne had retracted her agreement to marry and refused to acknowledge his very existence.
The tides had turned. She was the one who was too busy to pay any mind to his constant efforts to garner her attention. Daphne’s days were filled with various pursuits that precluded Ambrose. Even his standing invitation to the weekly Archbroke literary salon had been revoked. His cheeks heated as he recalled the day Lord Archbroke had personally delivered the blow that he was no longer welcome to the literary gatherings. The man who never appeared to be bothered by anything had paced Ambrose’s study and confessed that somehow both Daphne and Lady Archbroke had discovered that he coordinated a meeting with Madame Sinclair, and that they were both now banned from attending the weekly gathering. Astonished to hear that a gentleman of Lord Archbroke’s status would abide by his wife’s declaration preventing him from attending an event held in his own home, Ambrose had initially joked that Lord Archbroke would be back in his lady’s good graces in no time and would be welcomed back. However, as the Season progressed and Lord Archbroke continued to join Ambrose in his study for brandy and a strategy session as to how to get back into the ladies’ good graces, Ambrose realized that for a happy relationship to continue even after you say “I do,” much effort was required from both parties. It dawned on him that Daphne’s refusal was her way of protecting her heart. If he couldn’t put forth effort before they married, what evidence did Daphne have that he would continue to after?
With the close of parliament, families fled London in waves. It came as no surprise to Ambrose that the Viscount of Sumnerson was among the first to relocate his family to the country. With the added distance, Ambrose relied heavily on Alice to provide information on Daphne’s plans.
His sister tapped him on his knee and said, “You don’t owe me any apologies.”
“No. I do. And I’m sorry for dragging you about the countryside all summer.” He hung his head in shame. They had attended every house party keeping up the pretense Ambrose was still on the hunt for an heiress.
“While it has been exhausting, this summer has been highly educational.”
“How so?”
“When our peers believed you flush with funds, there was no shortage of ladies or gentlemen to converse with. After months of pretending to be destitute, I’ve discovered who I can truly call a friend. There are far fewer than I’d hoped.”
“Speaking of true friends, do you think Daphne will ever forgive me and give me another chance?”
“Not until you confess to the truth.” Alice picked up her book and reopened it, then dropped it back to her lap to add, “I’m rather looking forward to Lady Osbourne’s house party. It promises to be a highly entertaining fortnight since this shall be the last house party of the summer before everyone begins preparations to return to London, and the matron has yet another three matches to make in order to win the wager with her cousin.” Alice drummed her fingers over the cover of leather-bound novel.
He was going to set matters with Daphne to rights at Lady Osbourne’s house party even if it meant embarrassing himself to no end.
* * *
Fingers knitted togetherbehind her back, Daphne waited for her host, Lady Osbourne, to join her in the gazebo. She and her family had been summoned early to the house party while the majority of the guests, including Ambrose and Alice, were scheduled to arrive within the next few days. Even her father had decided to attend Lady Osbourne’s affair, a rarity for he preferred to stay at home to hunt in the latter months of summer rather than cross the countryside to visit Bath, which was overcrowded with families this time of year. Despite their promise not to force her to marry, Daphne suspected her parents were colluding with Lady Osbourne to find her a match.
Lady Osbourne, dressed in a luxurious lavender silk with a fine lace overlay, appeared in the distance. The matron walked steadily toward Daphne down the long and winding path. Her heart began to race as Lady Osbourne’s smirk came into view. Daphne suspected that her meeting with Lady Osbourne wasn’t to discuss whether or not she was to wed but rather to whom and when.
Daphne backed up and curtsied as Lady Osbourne stepped up into the gazebo.
“Take a seat, my dear.” Her host pointed her cane to one of the two iron chairs that flanked a table with tea and cucumber sandwiches were set upon it.
Daphne didn’t dare argue, and promptly sat in the chair.
Lady Osbourne withdrew an object from her sleeve and handed it to Daphne. “Read it.”
She unfolded the parchment that had been neatly folded into a square and read.
Dear Lady Daphne
Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Amy Silvermoore, but you and the others in your social circle know me as Madame Sinclair. I’m writing to you in hopes you will understand how lucky you are.
Daphne’s fingersgripped the paper. Lucky! How could this woman call her lucky when the man she loved had betrayed her. Daphne refused to read the rest of the missive and began to refold the paper.
“Lady Archbroke went to great lengths to obtain that.” Lady Osbourne pointed her chin in the direction of the half-folded note. “Out of respect for the lady, I suggest you read it until the end.”
Daphne heaved in a deep breath and straightened her spine to fortify herself against what she expected was to be the painful truth behind Ambrose’s meeting with Madame Sinclair.
At the request of Lord Archbroke, who has been a confidant and friend to me for many years, I agreed to meet with Lord Harlowe for the sole purpose of providing him with information, and not to engage in any pleasures of the flesh. I can assure you that Lord Harlowe’s intentions were entirely honorable and to my surprise the man never wavered. It is rare to find a man who has a strong enough will not to cave to his baser needs.
You can imagine my utter astonishment when I discovered that Lord Harlowe had decided long ago, well before our meeting, to devote his heart, soul and body to only one woman. That lucky woman is you, Lady Daphne.
I offer you my felicitations, and best wishes for the future.
Yours,
Amy S, aka Madame Sinclair
Daphne closedher mouth that hung agape. She read over the letter in its entirety again before murmuring, “I don’t understand.”
“I’m going to hazard a guess that you have been disabused of whatever notion had you ignoring Lord Harlowe for the better half of a year,” Lady Osbourne said.
“Do you understand the meaning of this?”
Lady Osbourne gasped. “Good gracious girl, I’d never dare interfere or read a missive from a PORF…” Her host covered her mouth and then shook her head and continued, “Forget what I said. I mean I’d never read a missive that wasn”t intended for me.”
Daphne hadn’t a clue why Lady Osbourne would have used such an unflattering name to refer to Lady Archbroke, but she pushed the peculiar reference and puzzle from her mind and focused on the content of the letter. “The author of this…” Daphne waved the parchment in the air. “Claims Ambrose has been in love with me long before he declared his love to me.”
“Wait. Harlowe declared himself in love?”
“Why do you look so astonished?”
“The boy is a bookworm. Much like my godson Richard. I honestly didn’t think either of them paid any attention to the fairer sex.” Lady Osbourne sat back and sipped upon her cup of tea. “However, if one reflects upon the past…”
Daphne’s head snapped up at the clink of porcelain hitting the table. Lady Osbourne pinned her with a glare that made her want to jump out of her seat and escape the monologue that was surely to follow. But she wouldn’t be able to run fast enough. Though Lady Osbourne was decades older, Daphne was certain the matron would still be able to chase her down and catch her.
Lady Osbourne settled back into her chair and smiled. “Let’s play a game, shall we?”
“What type of game?”
“I shall share a scenario and you determine if it is True or False.”
Daphne was good at word games. “Sounds like fun.”
“For years you have followed Lord Harlowe about.”
She didn’t hesitate to answer. “True.”
“Lord Harlowe stood by your side for years.”
She opened her mouth to refute the statement. But when Lady Osbourne’s eyes narrowed, Daphne heeded the woman’s warning and paused to think. She riffled through thousands of memories. It was she who stood by him—wasn’t it?
Lady Osbourne drummed her fingers over the arm of the chair. “Need I remind you of who came to your aid when those nasty girls had you cornered at the Royal Art Exhibition, or when your pup went missing in Hyde Park, or the time you nearly fell…”
Blast Lady Osbourne and her excellent memory. Daphne rolled back her shoulders and raised her hand. “There is no need to continue.” She released a sigh and admitted, “It is true – Lord Harlowe has always come to my aid in times of distress.”
“Last question, Harlowe deserves a second chance, true or false.”
If what Madame Sinclair had shared in her note was true, then the answer to Lady Osbourne’s statement would also be—“True.”
Lady Osbourne picked up a sandwich and nibbled on it. “Harlowe is much like a cucumber sandwich: simple, refreshing and understated.”
Ambrose was far from simple, and those who knew him well knew the man was resoundingly unforgettable. Daphne laughed and replied, “False.”
She picked up a sandwich and ate in comfortable silence as her mind raced, reflecting upon past memories. When she considered Ambrose’s past actions from an objective point of view, their entire relationship hadn’t been as one sided as she had believed. She’d have to seek out Ambrose one more time.