Her back went ramrod straight and her eyes widened. “You’ve changed your mind? You’re willing to use me as bait?”
“Bait, no, but I do think it’s important that we isolate you from Nicole the next time we leave the house.”
Regina closed the periodical and nodded. “I can always find errands to attend to, and there’s the ball tomorrow night.”
Daffin leaned forward in his seat. “Yes, I think the ball will be perfect, and I will be there with you to ensure you remain safe.”
Regina nodded. A thrill shot through her belly. She still feared another carriage accident, but the idea of helping Daffin bring down the madman—if any—targeting her family made her feel useful, just as she had in Surrey when she’d helped find John’s murderer. “What do you suggest?”
“Is there someone besides Nicole who can attend the ball with you tomorrow night to act as your chaperone?”
Regina absently ran a hand over the cover of the periodical. “It’s funny you should mention it because Nicole wrote to the Duchess of Claringdon earlier to ask her to accompany us.”
“Excellent. If we can convince Nicole to stay here, we may be able to coax this blackguard into making a move. And if nothing happens… perhaps Nicole is the target after all.”
A smile tugged at Regina’s lips. “I’m game if you are.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The next evening, Lucy Hunt arrived at Mark’s town house and readily agreed to send her coach back home so they could use Uncle Edward’s coach instead. It had been a chore to convince Nicole to stay behind, but in the end, she understood Daffin’s reasoning.
Regina liked Lucy immediately. The duchess was bright and funny with black hair and two different-colored eyes (one blue, the other hazel). She was quick to laugh and had a nearly encyclopedic memory of the aristocracy, including who was and was not eligible. She took the news of Daffin’s necessary presence with equanimity, while informing Regina she hoped very much she did not, in fact, have a madman after her. She agreed to keep the matter secret and remained quite calm about the possibility their coach might be waylaid.
Regina, Daffin, and Lucy piled into the coach.
“I daresay it’ll be an adventure,” Lucy said as soon as she was settled on the velvet-squabbed seat. “Not to mention I’venever been under the protection ofa Bow Street Runnerbefore. Jane Upton will be sorry she missed this. She adores experiencing things she could write about in a book.”
“I’ve had quite enough written about me of late,” Daffin said with a half smile.
Lucy tapped her cheek. “Ah, yes, I’ve been reading about you in theTimes.H. J. Hancock seems to be endlessly fascinated with your exploits.” She pushed a dark curl behind her ear. “I can’t say I blame him. My life seems quite humdrum compared to yours, Mr. Oakleaf.”
The remainder of the ride to the ball was filled with chatter as Lucy rattled off the names of eligible gentlemen while Regina gave a perfectly logical excuse for every one of them as to why they were not necessarily preferable to the Earl of Dryden. Daffin sat across from the ladies, his back to the coachman, his expression stonelike, his eyes trained out the window for any sign of trouble. He didn’t appear to take note of their conversation.
The three of them hadn’t been at the ball an entire hour when Lucy pulled Regina aside. They moved behind a potted palm on the outskirts of the dancing. Lucy nodded toward the ballroom.
“Do you see anyone you fancy, dear?” Lucy asked. “I know nearly everyone here.”
“Some of them I recall from my debut,” Regina replied with a sigh.
“I was thinking Viscount Barclay might be good, though admittedly he’s less handsome than Dryden and less rich.”
“That’s the problem,” Regina replied. “There’s nothing specificallywrongwith Dryden. I simply don’t love him and he doesn’t love me.”
“I completely understand, dear. I was wasting away on theshelf when my husband, Derek, came into my life, but I knew he was special immediately.”
Regina searched the duchess’s face. “How? How did you know?”
“Every time I was in his company, I felt a bit sick in the middle. But in a decidedly good way.”
Regina gulped. She’d had that same feeling… every time she was in the company of a certain Bow Street Runner.
“You know what I mean, don’t you?” An excited smile lit Lucy’s face. “You’ve felt it too. Tell me. For whom?”
Regina shook her head. The last person her uncle and grandmother would allow her to marry was a Bow Street Runner, or any man with no title. It had been drilled into her since she was a child. Her husband must be a member of the aristocracy. She’d be an outcast otherwise. Not to mention the fact that Daffin had rejected her advances and the question of marriage had never come up between them. She wasn’t about to embarrass herself further in front of him by asking if he’d like to propose. No. Daffin wasn’t suitable. He’d made it clear that he refused to get involved with a relative of a friend, and Mark was his friend. The idea of marrying Daffin was ludicrous. That’s all there was to it.
“No one,” Regina lied. “It’s just that… the way you describe it, that’s exactly what I want. I want to light up every time my husband enters the room. I’m afraid I’ll never feel that way toward Dryden.”
“I understand, dear. Sometimes the suitors who seem as if they should be the most acceptable just aren’t, for a completely indefinable reason. My parents had all but despaired of me ever making a match.” The duchess pulled her fan from her reticule and waved it rapidly in front of her face. “As forDryden, I’ve heard Lady Rosalind Millingham has been after him since her come-out five years ago. Poor woman should have made another match long ago.”
