“Only Mrs Dempsey.”
Daniel popped his head around the jamb. Helena smiled, waved and continued to a room along the opposite corridor. Daniel shot back into the room, wrapped his fingers around Daphne’s wrist and yanked her inside.
“It is not wise to enter a gentleman’s bedchamber.”
The cold look in his eye eradicated all the progress they’d made over the last few days. He stood before her as the old Thorpe: stiff stance, tart tone, and stony expression. The need to keep his secret pressed heavily on his shoulders. Lavinia had talked to him constantly through the wedding breakfast. Did he fear the matron might have more questions? Was that the reason he’d sought the privacy of his room?
“Then perhaps you should shut the door, Daniel, before someone walks past and sees us.” Daphne searched his face. She understood it all now. A wealth of pain lay buried beneath his facade. “Sneaking in fully clothed in the afternoon is hardly the same as being caught leaving at midnight wearing nothing but a nightgown.”
He closed the door and came to stand before her. “Is there something wrong?”
“Wrong?”
“That you felt the need to seek me out.”
This was going to be extremely hard work. Breaking Daniel Thorpe was the most difficult case she’d ever taken.
“I came to ask if you wanted to return to London.” Daphne smiled. How could she make him stay knowing Lavinia would continue to pry until she’d gained a confession? “We could say we’ve had a breakthrough in the case and leave after dinner.”
He tilted his head and squinted. “But don’t you want to stay?”
Not if it roused painful memories of his past.
“Anthony and Sarah are too absorbed with each other to miss us,” she shrugged. “Mr Dempsey might be sad to see you go. Helena said you’re one of the few gentlemen her husband respects.”
The corners of Daniel’s mouth twitched. “We do have a remarkable amount in common. There are not many men who will admit to thinking the way I do.”
“We don’t have to leave. If you enjoy Mr Dempsey’s company, we can stay. The choice is yours.”
“I came here for one reason only — to keep you safe. And so the choice is yours to make not mine.”
He’d come to Elton Park for her, knowing one of the guests might reveal his secret. Leaving was the least she could do for him. “Then we’ll leave after dinner. With luck, we’ll make it home sometime after midnight. We can discuss how we want to proceed with Lord Gibson on the way.”
“It’s probably for the best.” His shoulders relaxed and his frosty countenance thawed. “I can’t think about the case while here. My mind is too occupied with other things.”
Daphne glanced around the room. The peacock wallpaper hit her immediately. Why had she not noticed the hundreds of ugly creatures before?
“I agree. Perhaps it’s best we do go home,” she said. Her mind was made up. Sarah would understand. “Sleeping in this room would be like spending a night in a cramped aviary. I doubt you’ll get a wink of sleep. And we must be bright and refreshed if we expect to solve this case any time soon.”
“One’s bed should bring relief from a busy mind and a hard day,” he said scowling at the birds, “not add to the stress and confusion.”
A pang of sadness filled her chest. What did go on in that marvellous mind of his? Too much thinking, she feared. Perhaps a distraction might help soothe him.
Daphne wandered over to the window. The views of the garden were spectacular. “No doubt the monstrous wallpaper is a ploy to lure you to the window. I’ve never seen a landscape as beautiful.”
He came to stand at her side. “I’ve spent the last ten minutes admiring the shaped topiary.”
“I thought you found the hustle and bustle of the city more appealing? The incessant noise, the fog-drenched streets, the constant stench from the river.”
There was a long pause before he replied. “The city keeps me busy. Dealing with other people’s problems, helps me to forget about my own.”
She understood that. “My work is the reason I’ve remained sane these last three years. I had no time to think about the mysterious intruder. But then maybe that is not a good thing. We cannot use work to run away from our problems.”
Daniel stared deep into her eyes. “You know don’t you?”
Daphne cleared her throat. “Know what? That you’re the son of the Marquess of Pulborough? That you own a country estate but choose to rent a townhouse in London?” That you’re running away from your past, she added silently.
He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled deeply. “Yes.”