Not while she lived.
Daphne rushed forward, but Emily caught her arm. Meeting Daphne’s eye, she shook her head in warning.
“Ah, such a clever young lady,” Brooks said, backing toward the door and dragging Wynn with him. The groom and the valet stood by impotent, obviously concerned for Wynn’s safety. “See that you keep Miss Courdebas on a leash, Lady Emily. We wouldn’t want her to be hurt.”
“No,” Wynn said, “we would not.” He met Daphne’s gaze, his own entreating. But how could she stand by, knowing he was in danger?
As if he saw the intent on her face, his own face hardened. Before she knew what he was about, he listed to one side. “My leg!”
Brooks shifted with the change in weight even as Daphne darted forward. But before she could take more than a few steps, Wynn recovered, turning smoothly to shove the gun down and away. With a roar, the pistol discharged into the floor. Wynn reared up to smash his fist into Brooks’s nose. As the Corinthian stumbled back, releasing Wynn, the groom and valet rushed in to pin the villain’s arms to his sides.
“Search him,” Wynn said, steadying himself. “He may have the other pistol.”
As the valet confiscated the other gun, Daphne rushed to Wynn’s side. “Oh, Wynn, that was brilliant!”
His smile was more like a grimace. “My leg disagrees with you. I shall have to pay for that.”
“Then I will stay by your side and tend to you,” Daphne promised, “day in and day out. You are my hero.” She pressed a kiss against his cheek, feeling the brush of stubble, the warmth of his skin. It was almost as sweet as kissing him on the lips.
Wynn eyed her as she leaned back. “Perhaps this would be a good time for me to propose.”
“Yes,” Daphne said and kissed him again, twice more for good measure.
Wynn caught her shoulders, searched her face. “Yes, I should propose, or yes, you’ll marry me?”
“Both,” Daphne said. “Now do be a darling and kiss me back.”
“Your servant, madam,” Wynn murmured before making her lips his own.
And once more fireworks danced over Brentfield Manor.
From a far-off distance, she thought she heard a commotion, louder than the beating of her heart. Wynn must have heard it too, for he raised his head and glanced out the door. Lord Brentfield, Sinclair, Sir James, and Nathan Kent came barreling in to stop and stare.
“What happened?” the earl demanded. “We were halfway across the next county when the groom caught us.”
“Yet here we find Miss Courdebas, with a different gentleman,” Mr. Kent said with a look of approval to Wynn.
As Daphne’s face heated in a blush, Hannah stepped forward, twinkle in her dark eyes. “Allow me to explain, my dear. But first, Mr. Sheridan has an appointment with the magistrate. Emily discovered that he is our thief. He is in league with the local smuggling ring.”
Sir James reached for the fellow’s collar. “I’ll take him.”
“I’ll join you,” Sinclair said. “I may know someone with a keen interest in smugglers.” The two led the Corinthian out, while the servants went to fetch the other imprisoned smugglers to add to the group.
Wynn regarded Daphne. “You seem rather pleased with Mr. Sheridan’s capture.”
Daphne raised her brows. “Most assuredly. I have no designs on him. He’s a liar, a thief, and a terrible kisser. Besides, I may be betrothed, but I have no interest in looking at the cakes on display.”
“Someday you will have to explain that to me,” Wynn said before kissing her again.
*
It took a while to explain everything to everyone’s satisfaction. Sinclair and Jamie returned to report that Mr. Harrop had been discovered at the magistrate’s attempting to rouse the village to support the manor. The magistrate, who had been investigating the smuggling ring, was glad to hear that the foes had been vanquished and accepted the prisoners in hopes of finally stopping the group’s predations. Lord Brentfield promised to see the doorway between the hermit’s hut and the house put under lock and key so no others would be tempted to use it.
By the time everyone had said their good nights, it was quite early the next morning. Daphne’s mother fell into step beside her as they climbed to the chamber story for their beds.
“It seems you have accepted Mr. Fairfax’s suit,” she murmured as she glided along.
Daphne nodded. “I truly do adore him, Mother. He is everything I could have wished in a husband.”
Her mother’s mouth hinted of a smile. “That I’ve known for some time. Forgive me for thinking that I knew better what you needed.”
Daphne stopped in the middle of the carpeted corridor and stared at her. “Did you just beg my pardon?”
Her mother arched a brow as she paused. “Stranger things have happened. Secret passages, a gentleman falling through the ceiling onto my bed, smugglers at the door, a female army. Sleep well, Daphne. Tomorrow we must begin planning your wedding, and I expect we will find a great many more things to disagree about.”
But nothing important. Priscilla and Ariadne might fuss about the color of the roses or the flavor of the ices, but she truly did not care. All that mattered was that Wynn would be the groom standing beside her.
The next few days flew by, with good humor restored. There were more rides, more archery contests, more strolling in the gardens and finding secret grottoes in which to pledge their devotion. When it came time to say their farewells, Hannah and David promised to see them again in London in six weeks’ time when it was agreed they would be married, assuming Wynn won over Daphne’s father, Lord Rollings.
“Though I’m not concerned,” Daphne confided in Hannah as they took one last turn about the gardens while the coaches were loaded. “My mother has ever been the difficult one, and she has decided Wynn can do no wrong. She even agreed to convince his mother.”
“And so we shall be married,” Ariadne said with a satisfied sigh on Hannah’s other side. “That means next Season we shall be the Society matrons.”
Daphne glanced back in time to see Emily shake her head from where she and Priscilla were strolling right behind them.
“Not me,” her friend said. “Jamie and I will rent some place with a room for me to paint. I will receive you happily at any time, and I think I shall attempt to take over leadership of the Royal Society of the Beaux Arts. Other than that, I am done with Society as soon as I am married.”
“But perhaps not done with mysteries,” Ariadne teased.
Emily turned a pleased pink as Daphne faced front once more. “I shall be glad to lend my assistance to Jamie’s work.”
“What of you?” Hannah asked Ariadne. “Will you retire between now and next April to write a play?”
“A novel, I think,” Ariadne said, eyes dreamy. “About a dashing intelligence agent and her handsome escort.”
“And Priscilla?” Hannah asked, glancing behind.
“His Grace, the Duke of Rottenford, still requires a bride,” Priscilla reminded them all. “I promised Nathan I would help. After all, who better to spot a fortune hunter?” She paused a moment as if thinking. “Hmmm. Perhaps that’s how I’ll fill my time. There must be other titled gentlemen and ladies in need of finding the appropriate mate.”
“Matchmaker to the aristocracy,” Ariadne said. “You would be fabulous.”
“Agreed,” Emily said.
Hannah glanced at Daphne. “And what of you, my bold Amazon?”
Daphne smiled, looking ahead to where Wynn was pointing out to Lord Brentfield the features on the manor that might be improved by a talented architect. “I intend to raise children and teach them to ride and fence and drive and help their friends. And I should like to help Wynn’s sisters navigate Society. They seem a rather timid lot. I’m sure my model would help.”
Hannah gave her arm a squeeze. “You will be equally fabulous.”
“And we will all get together and share our adventures,” Ariadne insisted. “This cannot be the end of our friendship.”
“No,” Daphne told her, warmth building with her convictions. “I’m sure it’s just the beginning.”
She gave them each a hug, then strode to where Wynn was waiting.
“Ready?” he asked her.
She beamed at him. “Always.” She leaned closer. “And if we hurry, we can get far enough ahead of Mother.”
Wynn grinned. “So you can drive.”
“Yes, and so we might stop for another kiss.”
Wynn linked his arm with hers. “Have I told you how very much I love and admire you, Daphne Courdebas?”
“Every day, in a dozen ways,” she assured him. “I’m only sorry it took me so long to notice, and to tell you how much I love and admire you in return.”
His skin was turning pink as he bent and brushed her lips. It was a promise of things to come, a pledge for a future together. How very fortunate she was to be marrying one of her best friends.
She took Wynn’s hand, and they hurried for the carriage. But she thought even without the phaeton, she just might fly.
*
Ten months later . . .
“Move over,” Daphne urged, shouldering her way along the stone ledge. At least her evening dress was nearly as white as the stone. All she could hope was that the fine lords and ladies exiting Hannah’s crush of a rout would not look up at the outside of London’s best hotel on their way to their carriages and spot the two equally fine ladies of Society clinging to the wall.
“I’m moving as fast as I can,” Ariadne informed her, gathering her scarlet satin skirts closer. Her sister still eschewed white for evening, as if having published two novels to wide acclaim she must be known as a rebel. “This was much easier when we practiced at the house.”
Ahead, the sash on the window jerked up. Daphne froze, gripping Ariadne’s hand.
Wynn leaned out, spectacles firmly in place. “It’s safe. Come in.”
Daphne dropped lightly through the open window and turned with Wynn to help Ariadne inside.
“Priscilla and Nathan are keeping Count Vincenzo occupied,” he informed them, striding for the door of an opulent sitting room. “Cropper is on duty outside the door to ensure we aren’t disturbed. Sinclair is attempting to open the safe as planned. Emily will verify the stolen painting the moment we retrieve it.”
“And you had no trouble slipping away unnoticed?” Daphne asked as she followed him across the carpet.
“Less than you did,” he assured her. “There are times it’s rather handy being married to one of London’s most notorious Amazon’s. No one watches me.”
“Your sisters are ready to take up the mantle,” she told him as he opened the door to the bedchamber. “Do you know Clara can ride Hortensia astride?”
“Never tell Mother,” he said with a laugh.
“Done,” Sinclair declared from the other side of the room, where a wide oil painting hid the door of a safe. He swept open the door, and Emily reached in and drew out the miniature they had come to get.
“Catherine of Aragon,” she said, voice reverent as she cradled the three-hundred-year-old portrait. “Lord Hastings will be so happy to see her returned.”
“And I warrant your husband will be equally happy to have an excuse to arrest the man who stole her,” Daphne said.
“Another case to your credit, Emily,” Ariadne agreed.
Emily smiled. “Another case to our credit. And I have been meaning to mention we have a request from a Scottish earl to determine why his horses keep disappearing, despite armed guards and a locked stables.”
Daphne and Wynn exchanged glances.
“When do we leave?” he asked.
*
A short time later, in front of the hotel, Hannah waved goodbye as her beloved students, now friends, headed home before starting their next adventure. Beside her, David slipped his arm about her waist.
“I know that look in your eyes,” he said, his soft brown hair falling over his brow. “You’ve just managed a Society event that will be talked of for months, and you’re planning a painting.”
“I am,” she admitted with a smile. “I tend to see people as they might appear in paintings, I fear. When I first met you, I was certain you were meant to be immortalized as King David.”
He grinned. “Able to slay giants, eh?”
“Ready to dance before the Lord. I think I fell in love with you from that moment.”
He bent and kissed her, shocking the lady and gentleman who were passing. “One look at those paint-stained fingers, and I knew I’d found my match.”
She made a face. “My fingers were not paint-stained. I was far more careful then. And now, I know just what to call this painting.”
“Oh?” David asked.
Her smile widened. “And They Lived Happily Ever After.”
***
Thank you for choosing Love and Larceny. If you have followed our intrepid heroines from the first book, Secrets and Sensibilities, I hope you enjoyed the ride. If you missed out on any of the books, look for
Secrets and Sensibilities, Book 1 in the Lady Emily Capers. When art teacher Hannah Alexander accompanies her students on a country house visit, she never dreams of entering into a dalliance with the handsome new owner, David Tenant. But one moment in his company and she’s in danger of losing her heart, and soon her very life.
Art and Artifice, Book 2 in the Lady Emily Capers. What is Lady Emily’s betrothed thinking to insist on marriage before her first Season? And why is handsome Bow Street Runner Jamie Cropper dogging Lord Robert’s steps, and Emily’s? It’s up to Emily to use her art to uncover artifice and discover whether Lord Robert has something more up his sleeve than a nicely muscled arm. Along the way, a duke’s daughter might just form a perilous passion for a most unlikely suitor.
Ballrooms and Blackmail, Book 3 in the Lady Emily Capers. Priscilla Tate is about to wring a proposal out of the Season’s most eligible duke when a blackmail note arrives, threatening to expose her secret. If she cannot uncover the mastermind, will Nathan Kent, the duke’s handsome personal secretary, no, no, the duke, forgive her for her past?
Eloquence and Espionage, Book 4 in the Lady Emily Capers. Bluestocking Ariadne Courdebas never thought she’d play the heroine in her own romantic novel until a chance encounter with handsome intelligence agent Jason Sinclair pulled her into the world of espionage. Can Ariadne use her considerable eloquence to convince Sinclair to play her hero, forever?
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Blessings!
Regina Scott