To Con a Gentleman (Dalton Family 1)

Her hand touched her cheek. “Good heavens, I might have even been forced to ride it!”

He couldn’t help his laugh. “You mock but the truth is that I do not know a woman who could saddle her own horse without assistance—let alone a horse she had never ridden before.”

“Well,” she glanced up at him and he almost felt his heart stop. The most beautiful and genuine smile beamed from her face. “You do now.”

“Prove it,” he said.

Chapter 14

Carver awoke the next morning feeling certain that he had only fallen asleep little more than an hour before. All night his thoughts had pulled and warred with each other between memories of Claire and thoughts of Daphney. Had he made a mistake asking Daphney to stay? And what would Claire have thought about the situation? When he was away from Daphney, he could see clearly. She had no place in his home among his family. But when he was with her…his insides melted and he felt as if peace and happiness were something physical he could reach out and hold. It had been so long since he had felt that way. And that made him feel guilty. It wasn’t fair to Claire for him to continue his life as if she had never been.

A ray of golden light broke through the gap between the drapes and reminded him that he needed to get up. Despite how much Carver’s body protested waking, he knew that Daphney would be up soon, if she wasn't already, and they had an arrangement for the morning. Last night, they had decided they would go for a morning ride, and that Daphney would saddle her own horse. When he had made the challenge, she had looked at him as if he were completely insane. Not insane for having suggested she saddle her horse, but insane for thinking that anyone else had ever done it for her.

Daphney was so different from any woman he had ever known. Whether he liked it or not, she captivated him. It was both thrilling and dreadful. She was unpredictable. Unreadable. She didn’t demurely flutter her lashes when he looked at her, and she certainly didn’t back down from a fight. She stirred feelings inside him that he wasn’t at all ready to feel.

Willing himself to get out of bed, he sat up straight, stretched his arms, and rolled his neck. A surge of pain through his middle reminded him that his ribs were still significantly bruised. He looked down and ran a hand over the tender black and blue area. Painful, but healing.

The quiet of the room began to overwhelm him. There was no cravat around his neck but still, he was suffocating. For once, he missed the early morning distraction of Oliver. He needed to get out of this room. Out of this house. He rang for his valet and quickly dressed in buckskin breeches and a riding jacket before going downstairs to the breakfast room. The air in his lungs felt like thick cement as he passed by reminders of Claire. They were everywhere. In every corner, every hallway, every room. As his best friend and childhood neighbor, she had spent almost as many days in that house as he had. Memorie

s lurked and twisted in the air around him but he forced his gaze straight and his mind to the present.

He finally made it to the breakfast room and realized that he had all but jogged down the stairs. He took a moment to breathe and practice his easy airs before walking into the bright sunlit room. The wonderful aroma of bacon and pastries swept under his nose. Seated at the round table he found his mother, two of his sisters, and Robert. Mary was absent. Was she not feeling well? That thought gave him a sick feeling.

“Good morning to you all,” he said walking fully into the bright breakfast room. There, that sounded unaffected. Carver crossed over to his mama and kissed her cheek in his usual way. “Mother you look lovely, as always.”

She smiled and looked at him with a squint. “And you lie as always, but I’ll allow it because it makes me feel good.” She patted his cheek before he straightened back up. “Did you sleep well?”

“Wonderfully,” he lied and turned his attention to Robert. “Is Mary well?”

“She was feeling a bit ill this morning and wished to rest in a little later than usual, but nothing serious.” His smile was reassuring. “Is…Miss Bellows well? I haven’t seen her yet this morning,” asked Robert, his tone clearly conveying a question in the subtext. But no one else seemed to notice. Mother sipped her tea. Elizabeth broke the seal of a letter. Kate was engrossed in The Lady’s Magazine.

“She should be down any moment. We have plans to ride this morning,” he said with a discrete nod toward Robert. Robert nodded back his understanding and Carver turned toward the sideboard and picked up a plate with the intention to fill it.

“Well, then, she must have gotten a head start because Daphney left about an hour ago,” said Elizabeth. Carver paused, set down the plate and turned to face his sister who had spoken without looking away from the letter she was holding.

“A head start?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound as worried as he felt.

“Mmhmm. I saw her walking toward the stables from my window. She was wearing a warm wool cloak, so I assumed she was going for an early morning ride.” A surprising amount of panic gripped him. What if she had decided to leave after all? Surely Elizabeth would have mentioned if Daphney had been carrying a bag? He wanted to ask but knew it would raise too much suspicion if he did, so he swallowed his questions.

“If you are going for a ride, may I come along?” asked Kate, glancing up from her magazine for the first time.

Carver held his breath a moment. He loved his sister, he really did, but he also really did not want to spend the morning riding with her. He had too many questions for Daphney. Too much to figure out without having to worry about Kate's inconvenient presence.

His mother thankfully answered first, “No child, you may not. Never mind the fact that your brother looks like you just stuck a tack in his shoe,” she tossed him a knowing grin, “but you cannot go because we have far too many things to tend to for the ball, and I need you and your sister’s help.” For once, he thanked God for an upcoming ball.

Kate pouted as usual, “But that’s such dull work, Mama. Can you not manage without me for a few hours?”

Carver walked over to his baby sister and kissed her on the top of her dark blonde curls. At least this one still seemed like a child. “Sorry, love. Another time.”

“You could at least try to look disappointed,” said Kate with a put-on frown.

He let his mouth tug into a boyish grin, “I could, but I fear the effort would be too great.” Kate’s eyes narrowed, and she flashed him a taunting smile with a crinkled nose. He flicked her chin playfully and strode toward the door, intent on finding Daphney.

If he continued to look light and playful, hopefully they wouldn’t see the worry he was feeling. And behind the worry, the ache that never seemed to leave. He didn’t want them to know how broken he was. How frustrated. How tired. He had been gone too long, and they all needed him, not a shattered man.

His mother’s voice stopped him before he reached the threshold. “Carver, when do you expect Oliver? I assume he is coming. He never misses a family event.” There was such a fondness in his mother’s eyes whenever she spoke of Oliver. His friend had been like a second son to the family. And it struck him how pathetic it was that he too already missed Olly, though he'd sooner jump in the path of an oncoming carriage than admit it to the man.

He turned around. Elizabeth put down her letter and seemed to wait for his answer. “He left on a hunting trip yesterday but expects to be here in time for the ball.”