“By all means.” Lady Daphne returned her smile.
Danielle stood and hurried around to the back of Lady Daphne’s chair. Finally, something she was good at. She plucked the pins from her blond locks, concentrating on not tugging her hair. She pulled them out efficiently, letting the viscountess’s curls fall past her shoulders. Then she used her fingers to part the hair down the middle, sweeping it over her shoulders in two wide swaths before rolling first one side and then the other. She pulled the two rolls together to meet in the center and wrapped the pieces around each other, making a loose bun on the back of Lady Daphne’s head. She replaced the pins and waved her hand in the air. “Voilà!”
Danielle bit her lip. A moment of panic set in. Would Lady Daphne be horrified by the fact that she’d just dressed her hair in broad daylight in the middle of the drawing room? How in the world would she ever make this work?
Daphne stood, patting the back of her head to feel the new hairstyle. “Well, that was quickly done.” She stood and moved to the sideboard where a looking glass hung. She studied her hair from first one side, then the other. “It’s positively charming, and what I like best is that I didn’t have to sit still for an hour while you poke and prod. I cannot stand such things.”
Dieu merci.She wasn’t angry. Danielle glanced down at the carpet to hide her proud little smile. “A lady such as you has more important things to attend to than waiting half the day for her hair to be arranged.”
“Indeed.” Lady Daphne turned back to face her, smiling and still patting the bun on the back of her head.
The door to the drawing room opened and a tall, fit,treshandsome blond man with crystal-blue eyes and a dimple in his chin strode in. Danielle had done her research on this family. Not only had she learned that Lady Daphne did not enjoy spending long amounts of time having her hair and clothing fussed over, she’d also learned that the lady’s husband was a famous war-hero spy known as the Viscount Spy. She hadn’t been aware of how breathtakingly handsome he was, however. Lady Daphne was a lucky woman, indeed.
Danielle watched every movement he made. He had the tiniest hint, nearly unrecognizable, of a limp in his left leg, a faint set of lines around his mouth that indicated he’d been in pain in the past, perhaps a lot of it, and he moved with an easy, quiet style that made her think he was probably a proficient spy, indeed. She sat up straight. Would he approve of his wife’s potential new maid? Was he the sort of man who would make the decision for her?
“Ah, Daphne. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m looking for my—”
“Rafe, there you are. May I present Mademoiselle LaCrosse? Mademoiselle, this is my husband, Lord Rafferty Cavendish.”
The man had the grace to stop what he was doing and acknowledge her. Danielle turned and curtsied. Then he promptly returned to his task of searching for whatever it was he came for.
“What do you think of what she’s done to my hair?” Daphne smiled and spun around to allow her husband to see the chignon.
Her husband smiled back at her and a fetching dimple appeared in his cheek. “Daphne, my love, your hair could be a rat’s nest and I would still think you were gorgeous.” The couple shared a look that clearly indicated they were devoted to one another. Such a good-looking, happy couple. Danielle inwardly sighed. Those were few and far between. She stood and made her way over to a small table near the door.
“Mademoiselle LaCrosse comes with excellent references,” Lady Daphne added.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Lord Cavendish patted his pockets, preoccupied with searching the sideboard.
“She arranged my hair in no time at all. It was quite amazing.”
“Sounds good.” Lord Cavendish turned his attention to the table in front of the seating area.
Danielle slipped her hand under the newspaper that sat atop the table near the door. THEBLACKFOXSTRIKESAGAIN!read the headline. She quickly grabbed the object she’d spotted from across the room and turned away from the paper.
“Is this what you’re looking for, my lord?” She moved toward Lord Cavendish and presented him with a gold pocket watch.
The viscount stopped and looked up. His eyes widened. “Yes, actually. Where was it?”
“Here. Under the paper.”
“My goodness, Danielle, I didn’t even hear you get up. You move like a cat.” Lady Daphne smiled. “And you saw that from all the way across the room?” the viscountess asked in awe.
“Just a guess,” Danielle replied, hoping Lady Daphne wouldn’t make too much over her knack for spotting things. “I noticed you patting your pockets so I assumed the item you were looking for must be small and something you carried upon you.”
Lord Cavendish’s eyes narrowed on her briefly, but he inclined his head and smiled, too. “And so it is. Thank you, Danielle.”
Lady Daphne put her hands to her hips. “I daresay you’ve donetwoimpressive things during your interview. I suppose my next question for you is simply… when can you begin?”
CHAPTER FOUR
The theater was not the sort of amusement Cade looked forward to. He preferred a crowded, smoky gaming hell, or drinking far too much at a tavern filled with the type of women who might be up for a good tumble afterward.
Tonight he’d made an exception. His brother had asked him to attend. Daphne had nearly begged him. They’d spent the better part of the last year—ever since he’d arrived unceremoniously on their doorstep—attempting to make him respectable. They’d even ignored the Amanda Jones debacle. It was more of a family jest than a to-do. Regardless, make Cade respectable? Not bloody likely, but he admired their zeal. Upon occasion, like tonight, he indulged them.
Cade was in town for his own reasons, of course, reasons just now beginning to pay off. Earlier at the club, when Rafe had eyed the paper and mentioned the name Daffin Oakleaf, Cade’s stomach had clenched. Just how much did his brother know about him? Rafe was a respectable member of Society, an employee of the War Office. His livelihood, his life could be affected by Cade’s choices. Cade regretted that he couldn’t share his secrets with his brother, but it was best this way. To keep Rafe safe. The less he knew, the better.
If it was the last thing Cade did, he would avenge his brother’s treatment at the hands of the French. But he’d die before admitting that purpose to Rafe. Cade’s role as the black sheep of the family was important to him. Mustn’t disrupt the natural order of things. At any rate, his brother had kindly allowed him to stay with him. He might as well at leastattemptto do things the brother of a viscount was expected to do. Even if they were bloody boring. Like attending the theater.
