A Simple Case of Seduction

“Now, give me your arm.” She held onto him. “And don’t hunch your shoulders. Stand up straight else they’ll think I’m not able to support myself.” Beneath hooded lids, she looked up. “Your father was a tall man I suspect. One rarely inherits their height from their mother.”

“I believe so.”

“You’re not a man of many words,” she said as they crossed the entrance hall and walked towards the drawing room. “One would almost think you had something to hide.”

“Then perhaps I should leave you to sit with the ladies.” Daniel escorted her to the gilt-framed sofa in what was the most exquisitely furnished room he’d ever laid eyes on. “You have a way of extracting information from a most unwilling party.”

The matron gave his arm a friendly squeeze and chuckled. “Curiosity helps keep the mind young.”

“Then that explains why you’re more sprightly than the rest of us.”

The lady used her stick as support as she eased herself down into the seat. “I like you, Mr Thorpe. I hope we have the opportunity to talk again.”

“Should that be the case I ask you give me fair warning, and I shall be sure to wear my armour.”

“Your father had a sense of humour too no doubt.”

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All this talk of his father unsettled him. It was only a matter of time before the lady made the connection. A woman of her years would remember the scandal.

Daniel inclined his head. “I shall leave you to ponder the possibility.”

Moving away from the group of people assembling, Daniel found a quiet spot near the window, next to a statue of a Greek god who looked equally as bored. Daphne entered the room and noticed him standing alone. She was about to walk over and rescue him when Lady Harwood clutched her arm and dragged her to the sofa to meet her sister.

Minutes passed.

He knew he was scowling. Numerous times he considered pulling out his watch to check the time. Weren’t the guests supposed to leave after the wedding breakfast? Why the hell had the Harwoods insisted people stay the night?

Memories of the past crept into his mind. Did the father he imagined bear any resemblance to the real man? A painting of his father hung in the gallery at Pulborough Hall, though now it had probably been relegated to the attic. Even so, he’d be damned before he’d set foot in that house.

A weary sigh left his lips.

How in blazes was he supposed to think about the case when the matron’s meddling had given him a thousand and one other things to think about?

He glanced over at the white-haired lady as she stood and wandered over to the viscount. They stared at him. At one point she raised her cane and waved it in his direction. No sooner had she walked away than Lucas Dempsey joined his brother and they continued ogling.

It crossed his mind to march over and demand to know what they found so interesting. Instead, he looked out of the window at the manicured lawns, which was why he failed to notice Lucas Dempsey approach.

“Don’t tell me you also have an irrational fear of peacocks.” Lucas Dempsey grinned and slapped him on the upper arm where the skin was cut and bruised.

“Peacocks?” Daniel said swallowing down the pain.

“Have you not seen the wallpaper in your room? Blasted peacocks are everywhere. It’s enough to make a man want to sleep in the barn. Why else would you be standing here with a dour face?”

“During the time you’ve known me, have you ever seen me wear a different expression?”

Lucas cupped his chin and gazed at him with a look of thoughtful contemplation. “It was hard to tell what was going on beneath that beard. But while your lips are always drawn into a thin, ugly line, your eyes often forget to be angry. I noticed it just now when you were salivating over Mrs Chambers.”

Bloody hell. What was this? Poke the miserable man in the corner until he bears his soul?

“I was not salivating over Mrs Chambers.” He was drooling, but his personal affairs had nothing to do with Lucas Dempsey.

“There is no need to sound so defensive.” Lucas chuckled. “I’m on your side, Thorpe. Though you may find the thought abhorrent, we are similar in many ways. I too had to work to build my fortune. You’re not nearly as handsome, but we share the same disdain for society.”

The memory of Lucas charging at Mr Weston in a fit of rage drifted into his mind. “You used to despise everyone as I recall. Had it not been for Bostock’s timely intervention, you would have beaten Weston to a pulp.”

“The weasel almost ruined my life,” Lucas said, animosity still evident. “A good fight is the best medicine when resentment festers.”