Nicole nodded sagely. “I hate to believe that but it may well be true. I just don’t know who would want to hurt you.”
“Neither do I. It makes no sense.” Regina sighed. “Daffin didn’t like my suggestion offering myself as bait.”
Nicole rolled her eyes. “Of course he didn’t. He doesn’t want to place you in danger, but we cannot stay prisoners in this house.”
“I agree. He said if we would like to go out, I’m to let himknow and he’ll make preparations. I already told him about the Hillards’ ball tomorrow night.”
Nicole leaned an arm on the back of the chair. “Is it silly of me to hold out hope that the two accidents were mere coincidences? Perhaps no one is after either of us.”
“I do hope you’re right. I suppose we’ll find out sooner or later. Now.” Regina nodded toward the letter sitting in front of Nicole. “Who are you writing to?”
“I was attempting to write my friend Daphne Cavendish. But you know how much I hate writing.”
“Daphne Cavendish? She’s married to the Viscount Spy, is she not?”
“That’s right, her husband, Rafe, is good friends with Mark. So is Rafe’s twin brother, Cade. The last I heard from her, she was having trouble with her young cousin’s parrot.”
“Herwhat?” Regina asked, slightly shocked. “Did you say parrot?”
“Yes,” Nicole replied. “It’s quite a long story, but after her thirteen-year-old cousin Delilah discovered she had a pirate in her family—she insists Cade is a pirate, but I promise you, he’s truly a privateer—the girl was obsessed with procuring a parrot. Rafe indulged her and now she’s got the thing and apparently it’s been nothing but a nuisance.”
“How so?” Regina asked, still smiling.
Nicole’s eyes sparkled. “According to Daphne’s last letter, he repeats everything he hears, and if that’s not annoying enough, hebites.”
“Everyone?” Regina asked.
“No. Only certain people. Delilah insists he’s jealous.” Nicole laughed.
“She sounds like quite the character, that one,” Regina said, shaking her head.
“She is,” Nicole agreed, nodding. “You should meet her one day soon. She’d love to help you find a husband. She adores matchmaking. Though she admits she’s a hideous matchmaker at present, she argues that she needs opportunities to practice.”
“I do look forward to meeting Delilah,” Regina said, “but I’d need the most experienced matchmaker in the country if I’m to find a better husband than Dryden in a week’s time.”
“Hmm.” Nicole stared at the wall, as if lost in thought. “The most skilled matchmaker in the land, eh?”
“Who?” Regina prompted.
“Delilah’s mentor. Do you know the Duchess of Claringdon? Lucy Hunt?”
***
Regina was sitting in the front salon that evening after dinner, reading periodicals, when a slight knock sounded at the door. It had grown dark and the maids had lit the lamps. She glanced up to see Daffin enter. She self-consciously pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, cleared her throat and sat up straight. Then slumped a bit so as not to look as if she were trying too hard.
“Lady Regina,” he said.
“Yes?” She did her best to seem nonchalant. She might have decided that they would merely be friends, but he was still good-looking. And smart. And funny. And brave. And… oh, she could go on.
“May I… have a word?”
“Of course.”
He closed the door behind him and came to sit near her on the settee. “I’ve thought about what you said.”
She’d said a great many things earlier today. “About?”
“About determining who the target is.”
