Love and Larceny by Regina Scott Page B

Rollings instructed Daphne on how to
remove the pieces of wood and plaster, saying nothing about their
midnight ramblings and glancing at him from time to time as if her
doubts about him had only grown. Daphne found his glasses among the
pile, twisted, but unbroken, a bit like him.
    What a mess he’d made, all because he
couldn’t bring himself to say three little words.
    I love you.
    He was glad when Lord Brentfield, Mr. Harrop,
and a footman arrived to help. The butler eyed the hole in the
ceiling and shook his head as if dismayed by the damage. Then he
and Lord Brentfield exchanged glances, and the butler hurried out,
very likely to summon more aid.
    Lord Brentfield strode to Wynn’s side.
“Couldn’t resist, could you?” he challenged as Lady Rollings and
Daphne lifted the counterpane away from Wynn.
    “No, my lord,” Wynn said, face heating.
    The earl leaned closer and offered him a
wink. “Neither could I when I first discovered those passages.
There’s something mysterious about them. And strolling through the
dark with a pretty girl is even better.”
    It had been at that. But he could only wonder
the price he would have to pay, in Daphne’s respect for him and his
own health.

     
     

Chapter Thirteen

    Daphne had no choice but to take her mother
and retreat from the room when the doctor, a local practitioner
named Praxton, arrived an hour later. The rest of the guests in the
west wing had been awakened by the noise, and Hannah had followed
her husband to check on everyone. She had gone with a maid to see
about another room for Lady Rollings. Daphne was merely glad the
gentlemen had been housed in the east wing, far enough away that
they had not been roused. At least, none came immediately demanding
to know what had happened. She didn’t want to know what Sinclair or
Sir James would say about her midnight wanderings with Wynn.
    As it was, her sister and friends were all
crowding around the door along with Lady Minerva, who looked
particularly keen to be let inside. Daphne was ready to explain,
but her mother spoke first.
    “It seems Mr. Fairfax felt it incumbent upon
himself to explore the secret passages that run through the house,”
she told them. “He took a fall, but we have every hope that his
injuries are minor.”
    Daphne certainly hoped so. Seeing him lying
there so pale and stiff had made her ache inside, as if she were
the one who had smashed through the ceiling. She almost wished it
had been her. She could have faced her mother’s censure. And she
had no previous injury to aggravate. What if his leg had broken
again? What if this time he truly couldn’t walk?
    A shiver went through her, and she wrapped
her arms about her waist.
    “I say, what’s the trouble?” Brooks wandered
down the corridor. His blond hair remained perfectly combed about
his handsome face, and a scarlet dressing gown draped his broad
shoulders. Words dried up in her mouth.
    “Merely an accident, Mr. Sheridan,” her
mother said, drawing her dressing gown closer even as she stepped
in front of Daphne’s sister and friends, who were wearing their
nightgowns. “I’m sure you will be apprised of all come
morning.”
    It was a clear dismissal. No one Daphne had
ever known would have argued with her mother, with the exception of
Ariadne, of course. But Brooks ventured closer, golden brows knit.
“An accident, madam? Perhaps I might be of assistance.”
    Emily darted around Daphne’s mother to
confront him. “You certainly can. Please explain why you of all our
gentlemen was the only one to hear the commotion.”
    Brooks smiled. “Light sleeper, I expect.”
    “Something preying on your mind?” Lady
Minerva asked.
    He took a step closer to Daphne and smiled
that charming smile that made his teeth sparkle in the candlelight.
“Such a wonderful evening, I suspect, with the most delightful lady
of my acquaintance.”
    Something fluttered through her. Was that
what people meant when they claimed they had