A Simple Case of Seduction

The second instance took place two weeks ago. After discovering Daphne at the docks dressed as a prostitute while investigating Emily Compton’s disappearance, Thorpe had escorted her home.

On both occasions, the tension in the vehicle had clawed at her shoulders. The uncomfortable atmosphere — enhanced by Thorpe’s glare of disapproval — would have made most females cower in the corner. But Daphne refused to let him see that his mood affected her and excelled at hiding emotion.

Yet now, as she sat opposite him in the dark confines of his carriage, he seemed different. Yes, his tone was blunt, his broad shoulders cast an ominous shadow, but those black eyes had softened to a rich, chocolate brown.

“You must think me extremely lapse,” Daphne said over the noise of the rain lashing at the window. She was grateful for the miserable weather as it gave her an opportunity to look at something other than Thorpe’s intense gaze. “Instinct should have told me that Betsy had omitted certain parts of the story.”

Mr Thorpe stroked his chin, pulling the facial hair into a point. Heavens, she wished he would do something about his ridiculous beard. There were far better ways to disguise one’s appearance.

“Under normal circumstances, I would have questioned your lack of insight,” Thorpe agreed. “But we both know that the problem plaguing your thoughts is affecting your ability to work.”

“And what problem would that be?” Daphne swallowed down a rush of panic. For a man with his level of intuition, a raised brow or muscle twitch was as good as a confession.

“The problem that made you jump when I mentioned the word ghost. The problem that forces you to move house when it's obvious you enjoy the modiste’s company.” He paused. “So, are you going to tell me what’s troubling you?”

Blast!

“I doubt you want to be party to my thoughts.” Daphne gave a weak chuckle. “A man with your rational mind would think me just another delusional woman spooked by her own shadow.”

Without warning Thorpe sat forward, their knees almost touching. “I might disapprove of your need to work, but I consider you more intelligent than most men of my acquaintance. I would never attempt to discredit your opinion.”

“Oh.” A warm glow crept up her throat to toast her cheeks. “Well, your good opinion is rarely bestowed, and so I shall take it as a compliment.”

“Then you have understood my meaning perfectly.”

Silence ensued.

Daphne was used to dealing with his critical opinion, but this … this was uncharted territory.

“Was it not your perceptive skills that helped solve the Harwood case?” he added.

An image of him stalking up behind her at the docks flashed into her mind. When his large hand had covered her mouth to prevent her from screaming, she’d almost expired on the spot. Yet it was his tortured expression that tore at her heart, not his rants and curses.

“So why make me feel foolish for following that line of enquiry?”

“Day or night, the docks are no place for a lady.” He pushed his hand through his hair as a weary sigh left his lips. “Anything could have happened to you.”

“I am quite capable of warding off a drunken sailor.”

“And what if there’d been three of them? Despite your skill with a blade, you wouldn’t stand a chance.” Thorpe mumbled something to himself. “No matter how hard I try, I cannot understand why you would put yourself in such a predicament.”

Daphne knew the risks involved when she went out alone. But the circumstances surrounding Thomas’ death had left many unanswered questions. Chasing the truth had become a passion, grown into an obsession. Helping other people solve their problems gave her a sense of purpose. She was as addicted to solving mysteries as some women were to laudanum.

“When one finds oneself on an unfamiliar road one has but two options,” Daphne said. “With the life I knew lost, I chose to follow a different path, curious where it might lead. Yes, the journey has been treacherous at times, but the sense of achievement is rewarding.”

Thorpe dragged his hand down his face. “There are other ways to feel fulfilled. I hear needlework can be quite a stimulating hobby.” There was a faint hint of amusement in his tone.

“Can you honestly see me sitting at a frame for hours mulling over which is the right colour thread?”

“No, though I’m sure you would find use for a needle amongst your arsenal of weapons.”

Daphne laughed. It occurred to her that Mr Thorpe could be quite humorous. “While a loaded pistol is a perfect deterrent, my tongue would be my weapon of choice.” Talking was the best way to avoid conflict.

“Indeed.” His penetrating gaze travelled over her chest and face, lingered on her lips. “As with everything else you put your mind to, I imagine you possess a high degree of skill in that regard.”

Like a naive debutante hearing the polished words of a seducer, Daphne’s heart fluttered. Had she mistaken the warm notes in his tone? Had she imagined his effort to tease?

“Then why not take advantage of the opportunity and judge for yourself?” she replied, suppressing a grin when he sucked in a sharp breath. “Let me accompany you to the molly-house. I can talk my way out of the most awkward conversations.”