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When the duchess had arrived home and peeked in her daughter’s bed chamber, Brown had managed to convince Her Grace Daphne was sleeping soundly and should not be disturbed. And even though Daphne didn’t actually arrive back at the Warcliffe town house until almost four in the morning, no one but her maid seemed aware she had been out all night. Brown reported no suspicious activity had been remarked upon. So if Battersea had come for her, he had been stealthy about it. Before she’d gone to bed, she peered out her curtains into the gray morning. She saw no one there, but her skin prickled with awareness.
She might not see him, but he would come for her.
Daphne fell into a fitful sleep until about noon, when her mother woke her and asked if she felt well enough to relocate to the new town house or if they should put it off for another day.
“Absolutely not, Mama,” Daphne said. “I feel much better.” She worried for her parents’ safety with Battersea prowling about. The sooner she was away, the safer they would be.
“You look a little pale and tired.” The duchess cupped her face.
“Nothing some tea and toast will not cure.” Daphne smiled brightly until her mother left and Brown came in to dress her. “Is everything packed and ready?” Daphne asked as Brown shook out a pale pink muslin with small green sprigs of flowers on the material. There were pretty green bows on the cuff of the sleeves.
“Yes, my lady.”
When the dress was over her head, Daphne helped smooth it down. “Is the staff in residence?”
“I believe they were to arrive several hours ago, my lady. Turn this way, my lady.”
“Good. Then go ahead over there now and rest for a few hours. I won’t need you until this afternoon when I have to change.”
Brown paused in her efforts to pin the dress into place and caught Daphne’s gaze in the mirror. “Are you certain, my lady?”
“That’s the least I can do to thank you for keeping my mother at bay last night.”
Brown went back to her task. “I didn’t like lying to Her Grace, but you are my mistress, my lady.”
Daphne turned and put her hand on Brown’s arm. “Thank you for your loyalty.”
Brown smiled. She was not a pretty woman as she usually wore a sour expression, but she smiled now and looked rather attractive. Daphne turned her back to the mirror and peered over her shoulder. “Am I all laced and tied and pinned?”
“You are, my lady.”
“Then I’m off to my last breakfast with my parents.”
The rest of the day was a blur of directing servants to place this here and that there, making certain she met the new staff and that they knew what she expected, and taking inventory of silver, plates, linens, and other household items. She saw Colin in passing and asked for his opinion a time or two, but later when she asked about him, she was told he was out. She hoped that meant he had located Captain Gladwell.
Without Colin in the house, she was easily startled. The clang of pots or the heavy thud of furnishings being moved made her jump, even if it was difficult to believe Battersea would come here in the broad daylight. He probably did not even know she had moved town houses yet, but she did not feel safe without Colin close by. She might not be able to trust he would never abandon her again, but she knew he would keep her safe until Battersea was no longer a threat.
After that, she supposed they would go back to living separate lives as so many peers did. He could go to his family estate in the country or travel on the Continent. She would go to country house parties. They would occasionally meet up in Town and sleep under the same roof. She would see him more than she had in the past, but he would use the frequent physical distance to keep her emotionally at bay. He would become a stranger to her again.
At about half past five Daphne collapsed in a chair in the parlor and closed her eyes. It was a bright, cheery room in the day. But now that the shadows were creeping in, she could not help but remember this was the room where Colin had announced, I’m not in love with her.
And then he’d spent the rest of the evening doing and saying things that thoroughly confused her on that point. Her stomach growled, and she wondered if she should give some instruction about supper. She had not wanted the staff to prepare a meal if Colin arrived in a hurry to be off to confront Captain Gladwell.
“Has no one fed you?” a voice asked.
Daphne jumped and searched the room for Colin. She found him seated near the window, his body in shadow, and she thanked God it was not Battersea. It took a moment for her to force air into her tight chest.
“How long have you been there?” she asked.
“An hour or so.”
She put a hand to her pounding heart. “You startled me. I didn’t even know you were there.”
“I’m rather good at blending in.”
She rose. “Don’t do it with me. I like to see you.”
“Good.” He stood and the room seemed to grow smaller. “Shall we fetch you some supper and see about having a word with Captain Gladwell?”
“You found him?”
“Not exactly, but I have it on good authority that he is here in London. I made a few inquiries this morning and have an idea where to look for him.”
“Do you know where he lives?”
“I know the general area. I thought we might stop in at a few taverns and if we spot him, we can follow him home. The area is not respectable but not dangerous, either.”
“How will we know what he looks like?”
“I’ll tell you what I know on the way.” He looked her up and down. “Are you wearing that?”
“No. I should have changed an hour or so ago. This is a day dress.”
“Put on something less...pink.” He leaned closer to her. “I liked you in black last night.”
Daphne felt a curl of pleasure uncoil in her belly. “I’ll see what my maid can find.”
Colin locked eyes with her then finally stepped back. “Don’t be long.”
With Brown’s help, she changed into another mourning dress in a matter of minutes. Colin waited for her at the bottom of the steps, her gray cloak over his arm. He waved the butler away and put it around her shoulders himself, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her collarbone. Was it too scandalous to admit she wanted to forget Captain Gladwell and Battersea tonight and just go to bed?
“You don’t have to go,” Colin said quietly.
“No.” She would not be left alone again or shirk her responsibility. “You don’t have to go. This was my mistake, and I will rectify it.”
He led her out of the house, hailed a hackney cab, and directed it to an area not far from the river. “What about the Scotsman?” she asked when they were underway. “Is he meeting us?”
Colin shook his head. “He had a prior commitment. A ball, if you can believe it.”
Daphne sorted through her mental inventory of invitations. “The Ridgeton ball?” Doubtful. “Or was it the Lansdown ball?”
Colin gave her a dubious look. “I didn’t ask. I told him to make room on his social calendar for us tomorrow.”
“And what if we find the captain tonight?”
“We either follow him and find out where he lives and what he does, or, if he seems relatively harmless, we confront him. Just don’t cause any problems. I can’t fight and protect you at the same time.”
“I don’t cause problems.”
He huffed out a disbelieving breath. “You do nothing but cause problems. Just stay close to me. A tavern isn’t one of your garden parties. Some men see any woman in a tavern as fair game.”
Daphne wouldn’t admit it, but it sounded a little exciting to her. Not that she wanted to be any man’s fair game, but she had done nothing for years except go to Society entertainments. The most exciting thing that happened at one of those was a debutante found kissing a man on the terrace or a lady whose assets were exposed when she tripped and fell over.
A dark tavern filled with bawdy wenches flirting with patrons who were not gentlemen seemed rather exciting.
Colin rapped on the roof of the hackney, drawing Daphne out of her imaginings. She looked out the window and saw a rather ordinary street lined with closed shops and yellow lights spilling out of taverns. A few men walked along the street, which was not yet dark enough to require a lantern, and a few women hurried by as well.
When they’d exited the coach and Colin had paid the jarvey, he pointed across the street. “We’ll start there,” Colin said, indicating a tavern with a picture of a tall ship on the sign hanging above the door.
“The Clipper,” Daphne read. “It seems a likely tavern for a sea captain.”
“Possibly, but more importantly, I’ve heard the food here is better than some of the other establishments. So we start here.”
Daphne followed him into the dark interior and was sorely disappointed. There was one woman listlessly wiping a table and a few men older than her father sitting at tables and eating what looked like soup. The publican, a stocky brown-skinned man with close-cropped wiry black hair, nodded to them as soon as they walked in. “I don’t know anything,” he said.
Daphne opened her mouth to reply, but Colin took her hand and squeezed it.
“We came to eat, not talk,” Colin answered.
“Sure you did.” The man looked Daphne over. “I see her sort in here every day. All the ladies of the court come in to dine.”
Colin ignored him and led Daphne to a small table. It looked clean and when she traced a gloved hand over the surface, it didn’t come away sticky. The tavern wench came over and leaned a bony hip on the table. “Don’t mind Isaac,” she said. “You came to the right place for dinner. Our cook is the best. Pinched him from the palace, we did.”
“Really?” Daphne asked.
The wench smiled at her. “Sure and if you believe that I have some jewelry to sell you.”
Colin put his hand over Daphne’s. “Two plates of whatever the cook has made and two cups of ale.”
The wench sauntered off. Daphne snatched her hand away from Colin’s. “I wouldn’t have bought any jewelry from her.” She looked about the room again. “I’ve never been to a place like this. I’ve eaten in a tavern, of course, but my father always secures a private room.” Her gaze met those of the men across the room, who had been silent since she’d arrived and were making no pretense about watching her. “I can see why.”
“They’ve never seen anyone who looks like you walk in here. They’re curious, but harmless.”
The wench set two mugs on the table. “The food will be ready shortly.”
Colin sipped his ale and Daphne followed. She didn’t drink ale often, but she liked it when she did, and this was quite good. All the activities of the day had made her thirsty and her cup was soon empty. Colin raised a brow then signaled for another.
“Now they can go home and tell their wives that a duke’s daughter drinks ale just like any other woman.”
Colin smiled. “That wasn’t what I meant when I said they haven’t seen anyone like you.”
She was feeling warm from the ale and a bit lightheaded as she’d had nothing but toast all day. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m beautiful?”
His mouth quirked up. “I’ve already told you that.”
“Have you? I don’t remember.”
He leaned across the table. “You’re beautiful, Daphne.”
Before he could lean back, she grasped his wrists. “So are you, Colin.”
“Perhaps that’s enough ale until the food arrives.”
“I’m just telling the truth. I’ve always thought you were beautiful. You have those green eyes.” She studied his eyes now, so pretty and vivid. They were deep enough to hold so many secrets.
“A lot of people have green eyes.” He reached for her ale and she scooted it closer to herself, out of his range.
“Not like yours. Not that light green fringed with those black lashes. Women would kill for lashes like that. I would kill for lashes like that.”
She might have been mistaken, but she thought his cheeks reddened. He cleared his throat. “I had no idea my eyelashes were so coveted.”
“Don’t go around fluttering them now,” she teased.
“I make no promises.”
She stared at him. “Look at you. Teasing and talking like an actual person.”
“As opposed to?”
She shrugged and sipped her ale. “You are always so serious and stoic. I admit I was a bit afraid of you when we were younger. A bit afraid and completely smitten.” His face registered shock and she realized what she’d said. “Did I say that out loud?” she asked.
“The part about being smitten with me?”
“I did.” She finished her ale and raised her hand for another. He caught and lowered it.
“I think you’d better slow down.”
“I don’t know. Perhaps I should drink more. I should have told you how I felt a long time ago,” she said.
He paled slightly.
“Oh, but I forget that you don’t like to talk about feelings. You don’t want to hear how I was half in love with you for years.”
“Oh, God.” He looked slightly ill.
Daphne continued, ignoring his obvious discomfort. “You don’t want to know how I begged my mother to arrange for me to marry you. How she didn’t think it was a good match, but between your mother and me pressing her, she finally acquiesced. I was a fool.” She was still a fool. Hadn’t he announced last night he did not love her? But she wanted him to know. She didn’t want to look back and wish she’d told him how she felt, especially when the threat of Battersea might mean any moment now might be her last.
Colin stared at her, his eyes a darker shade of green now. “You wanted to marry me?” He sounded as though he were choking.
“That’s what I’m saying. I loved you.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Why? It’s the truth. I wanted to be your wife. Well, until I actually was your wife.”
She didn’t know what Colin would have said next because the tavern wench returned and set two bowls of thick stew on the table along with a loaf of warm bread.
She eyed Daphne’s mug. “More ale?”
Colin drained his. “Two, please.”
The wench nodded and sauntered off. Colin didn’t take his gaze from Daphne. She peered critically at the food before them. “This actually looks good.” She dipped a spoon into the stew and tasted it. “Not bad.”
“I hesitate to mention this again, but did you say—” He seemed to reconsider the question. “Did you mean to imply that before we married, you—you—”
“Loved you? Yes.” She ate another bite of stew while he gaped at her. “But then what did I know about love? I thought we would ride away from the church in a carriage and live happily ever after. Instead you went to war and I...I suppose I stayed behind and waited for you.”
The server returned with the ale and Colin took his and drank deeply.
“You really had no idea, did you?” She reached for her ale, but he took it out of her hands.
“No more. I won’t survive any more confessions.”
“It wasn’t meant to be a secret. I planned to tell you on our wedding night. Remember I asked you about your secrets? That was mine.” She hadn’t thought it would surprise him, though. To her, it had been so obvious.
“I thought you didn’t want the marriage any more than I did.”
Daphne set her spoon on the table. She wasn’t hungry any longer, and she was glad he had taken the ale, though it was still within reach. Her stomach had turned sour. “The truth is—”
“Oh, God. No more truths.”
“—that I knew you didn’t want to marry me. I thought you’d change your mind. I thought I’d be such a good wife that you wouldn’t be able to help falling in love with me. Obviously”—she gestured to the tavern—“my plan did not succeed.” Because the truth was that Colin FitzRoy would never love her. He would never be hers. He was with her for the moment, but that wouldn’t last. Even now, he wanted to escape her.
As if to prove her point, he said, “I think I should take you home.”
Perhaps because she was feeling spiteful, she said, “You mean, we should go home. Together.”
His brow lowered in confusion then his eyes went wide. Clearly, he had forgotten they lived together now. He couldn’t escape her quite so easily. The knowledge gave her little comfort. He’d find an escape soon enough.
“But Colin, we can’t leave now. We haven’t found Captain Gladwell.”
The serving wench happened to be passing by, and she doubled back. “You’re looking for Captain Gladwell?”
“Yes,” Daphne said, her hopes rising. Obviously, this woman knew Gladwell. She shot a quick glance at Colin to see if he was as thrilled as she. His face told her nothing, though. He sipped the ale—her ale—but his expression was carefully schooled.
“We’re looking for a ship to transport some cargo,” Colin said. “We were told Gladwell can be trusted.”
“What are you—” Daphne broke off at the narrowing of Colin’s eyes. She pressed her lips together. She could play at deception. She’d practically been raised on it.
The server looked over her shoulder at the publican, who was busy moving wine casks behind the bar. She moved closer to Daphne and lowered her voice. “He was already in here tonight. He left less than a quarter hour before you come in.”
“Damn it,” Colin said. “Do you know where he lives? Perhaps we can speak to him there?”
“I don’t know, but he usually walks home along the water. I live that way, and if I leave when he does, he walks me home. He’s a kind old man. Walks with a bit of a limp and carries a cane, so I have to walk slowly.”
Colin rose. “Thank you.” He pressed a coin into her hand. The server looked down at it and her eyes widened. “This is more than your dinner, sir. I’ll fetch change.”
Colin held his hand out to Daphne. “Keep the change.” He dragged Daphne out of the Clipper as the server called her thanks.
***
DAPHNE DID NOT MOVE quickly, and Colin finally turned to her in exasperation. “If we hurry, we might still catch him.”
“My hat is falling off,” she complained. “I need to secure—”
He grasped the hat ribbons, yanked them loose, and handed her the hat. “Problem solved.”
“Really!” But she moved more quickly, and he no longer had to drag her behind him. He wanted to move quickly, to leave the tavern where she’d confessed so much to him behind. He hadn’t been able to breathe in there.
Daphne loved him. She had always loved him. How had he not known that? Or had he known but refused to admit it because he did not know how to deal with a woman who cared for him and whom he had feelings for as well?
Yes, he had feelings for her. He could admit it, if only to himself. She wasn’t the girl he remembered, but a woman who was clever and brave and funny and desirable. The problem was that none of this mattered. He couldn’t allow himself to feel anything for her. It was worse than having been mocked as a young man for having feelings; it was that he knew what it was to have loved and lost.
He’d loved his mother. He was her youngest, so she’d spent more time with him than her other children and he’d felt close to her. When she’d died, it was like a part of him died as well. He’d spiraled into a dark well of sadness and despair. He’d wanted to curl up there and die, but his father hadn’t allowed it. In the end, it had taken every last ounce of strength Colin possessed to crawl out of that black place. Daphne wanted him to love her, but the part of him that loved was gone, and he was too much of a coward to resuscitate it. Colin could not bear to feel the pain of loss again.
They reached the waterfront a few minutes later and Colin looked down as far as he could see in one direction then the other. He saw no one but mudlarks in the shallows and whores leaning against buildings. No older men with canes in either direction.
“I should have asked her which way,” Colin said. “But we can come back tomorrow.”
Daphne pointed to the mudlarks. “What are those boys doing?”
He should have known she would not be so easy to manage. He had not exaggerated when he said she caused trouble. “Looking for anything of value in the river to sell or pawn,” he answered.
She grasped Colin’s arm. “Give them some money.”
He sighed, knowing a few coins wouldn’t help the children beyond today or tomorrow. “Lads, come here and I’ll give you a penny.”
A couple of the boys looked at him, then looked at another boy, the tallest, seemingly for approval.
“What do we have to do for it?” the taller boy asked.
“Nothing,” Daphne answered. “Just take it and get something to eat.”
The leader shook his head. “We don’t take no charity.”
Colin shook his head. “It’s not charity. I want a bit of information.”
The leader seemed to consider then waded out of the water and approached them, two or three of the others following. All were barefoot and wore trousers with the legs rolled up. A couple of them were soaked to the skin as they’d obviously dived underwater to search for hidden treasures.
“What kind of information?” the leader asked, hands on his hips. He was thin as a rail with hollows under his eyes. His hands were red and raw and his clothing was patched and threadbare.
“We’re looking for Captain Gladwell,” Colin said. “Can you show us where he lives?”
The leader looked at the other boys. They were smaller but similarly dressed, their clothing hanging off their thin bodies. Colin caught the slight shake of the leader’s head and the other boys’ barely perceptible nods. “We don’t know a Captain Gladwell,” the leader said. “Now we’d best get back to work before it’s full dark.”
“Wait!” Daphne called after them. “He walks along the waterway nightly. He has a limp!”
“It’s no good.” Colin put a hand on her arm. “They think he’s in some sort of trouble and will protect him. We’ll have to come back tomorrow and wait for him.”
Daphne sighed. “This could go on for days. I can’t hide from the earl forever.”
He heard the note of fear in her voice. “I’m with you,” he said, looking her in the eye to show her she was safe with him. Colin put his hand at her back and guided her back the way they’d come. The area was relatively quiet at this time of evening. Once true dark fell the taverns would fill up. But in the shadowy dusk, he and Daphne saw few other people. “Battersea won’t try anything with me beside you.”
“He’ll find a way to abduct me when you’re not with me, and I’ll never be seen again.” She shivered and Colin pulled her close, feeling strangely protective.
“I won’t allow that to happen.”
She smiled at him. “Be careful. I might begin to think you care.”
“I...” Colin didn’t know what to reply. He couldn’t retort that he didn’t care. He did care. She was his wife and of course he would protect her, but he didn’t think she wanted such a standard response. He knew what she wanted, and he couldn’t give it. Not to her or to himself. In the end, he remained silent.
Perhaps that’s why he heard the footsteps behind them. He turned to look and saw nothing but the fog that had been steadily rolling in from the river. It was thicker now, and he could barely see the shapes of the mudlarks in the distance.
He moved forward again and a moment later heard the steps again. “Someone is following us,” he whispered to Daphne.
Of course, she spun around and peered hard at the fog. “Who is there?” she asked.
Colin winced. He shouldn’t have said anything to her.
“Someone who can ‘elp you,” replied a small voice.
“Why, it’s just a child,” Daphne said.
“I may be little,” the voice said, “but I know something you don’t. Something about Captain Gladwell.”
“Come out of the fog,” Colin said, “and we’ll talk.”
There was a long moment of silence and then the voice said, “Just so you know, I let you ‘ear me. Try anything and I’ll disappear, and you’ll never see me again.”
“I have no doubt you know your way about much better than either of we do. We don’t want to hurt you. We just want to know where the captain lives.”
Slowly a small figure began to emerge from the fog. The child looked like an unearthly spirit with the mist swirling about his coat and trousers. “Blunt first. Then information.” The child held out his hand.
“How do we know you won’t just run off after we pay you?” Daphne asked.
The urchin put his hands on his hips. “I give you my word, that’s ‘ow.”
“Fine,” Colin said. “But come out of the fog so we can see you and speak without shouting.”
The child seemed to consider then pointed to an alley between two shops. “We can talk there and not be disturbed. I’ll go first.”
Colin knew if he was volunteering to go first, there must be a way out the back. He held back until the child had entered the dark alley. When he started forward, Daphne hesitated. “I don’t like the looks of it.”
Colin couldn’t argue. If the child was hoping to trap him, it was the perfect arrangement. Who knew what or who might be waiting in the alley? He bent and reached into his boot for his weapon, a long knife with a wickedly sharp blade. “If there’s any trouble, get behind me,” he said.
They entered the alley and were momentarily blinded when a lamp shown on their faces. “Now give me the blunt,” the urchin said.
Squinting, Colin tossed him a penny. The child caught it one-handed. “That’s it?”
“There’s more when you tell us what we want to know. Lower the lamp and tell us where Gladwell lives.”
The lamp wavered then the light slid down. Daphne gasped as they both got a look at the child. “But you’re a girl,” Daphne said.
Colin had been thinking the same thing, but he was wise enough not to say it.
The girl sneered. “No, you’re a girl. I’m a female, much as I ‘ate to admit it.”
“But you’re dressed like a boy,” Daphne pointed out.
The child pointed to Daphne’s dress. “And ‘ow would I climb over a wall or through a window wearing skirts? Now, do you want to talk fashion or do you want to know about Gladwell?”
Daphne opened her mouth, but Colin spoke first. “Tell us where Gladwell lives.”
The girl shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m no snitch.”
Daphne let out a huff of air. “Then why did you follow us? You’re wasting our time.”
“Because I can get a message to the captain. Maybe tell ‘im you’ll meet ‘im ‘ere tomorrow.”
“Fine,” Colin agreed. “Tell him to meet us at the The Clipper at six tomorrow. We just want to talk. Give him our names—Mr. FitzRoy and Lady Daphne.”
The girl nodded, her large brown eyes shrewd. “That’s a lot to remember.”
Colin flipped her a shilling. “Will that help you retain everything?”
“If you’re asking if this is enough, I think one more shilling will guarantee I get the message perfect.”
“What’s your name?” Colin asked.
The girl put her free hand on her hip. “Why?”
“I like to know who’s fleecing me.”
A ghost of a smile crossed her pale face. “ ‘Arley.”
“That’s not a name,” Daphne argued.
The girl shrugged. “That’s what everyone calls me. I think it’s cuz I’m ‘arley around.”
“It’s hardly around.” Daphne corrected. “Not ‘arley or harley.”
“What do your parents call you?” Colin asked.
“Don’t ‘ave parents,” Harley said. “It’s just me, and I like it that way.”
“I see. Well, give that information to the captain for us.” He tossed her another shilling. “And if you ever decide you don’t like it on your own, come find me, Colin FitzRoy. I have a friend who runs an orphanage, a good one, and he can help you.”
“What’s the name?”
“The Sunnybrooke Home for Boys.”
“Will he take her in?” Daphne asked. “She’s a...female.”
“He’ll take her. Ask around about it, Harley. Then come and find me.”
“I’ll think about it. Until tomorrow, gov!”
The lamp went out and Daphne and Colin were cast into darkness. Colin figured they were probably alone too.
He led Daphne out of the alley and down the street where there were more pedestrians and he might be able to hail a hackney.
“I certainly think you overpaid,” Daphne said.
Colin laughed. “First you want me to give out money, now I overpaid.
“Two shillings to deliver a message?” She shook her head. “It’s highway robbery.”
“It’s worth it if the captain meets us tomorrow.”
“I think we should eat at The Clipper again. The food was delicious. I could eat another bowl. All of this searching is exhausting. I don’t think it’s even eight o’clock, and I’m ready for bed.”
Colin was ready for bed too, and if he had his way, neither would be sleeping any time soon.