That had been his fantasy, but his penchant for dominance in the bedchamber would no doubt horrify a proper lady like Regina. She’d probably want the candles snuffed and the bed sheets covering her, like any pampered virgin. Not that he’d bedded many pampered virgins, but he could imagine they’d be less than adventurous when it came to making love. He was a man who prized adventure. In bed and out of it.
Not to mention, he might be a hired hand to the aristocracy when it came to solving their crimes, but he damn suredrew the line at bedding their womenfor money.What the hell had Regina been thinking when she’d offered to pay him? Did she believe him some sort of rutting stag? A man with no morals? One who would either trace down a criminal or bed a Society miss if the purse was hefty enough? At least she seemed properly chagrined when he’d pointed out the insult.
Daffin would continue to work for those who could afford to pay him. Only he wasn’t about to take up a side job as acicisbeofor the lonely ladies of thetonwhile he was at it. Fine, Regina wasn’t married yet, socicisbeowas the wrong word for her offer;paid loversounded less romantic, but it was also not going to happen.
Daffin let his head drop against the seat back, feeling strangely depleted. Damn Christmastide. Regina’s visit had been another frustrating encounter during his least favorite season. He stood and crossed to the sideboard to pour himself another finger of brandy. It was near the end of the day, and if ever there was a reason to drink, this was it. He leaned back against the sideboard and crossed his booted feet at the ankles, letting the last twenty minutes play over and over in his mind.
Was this what he could expect more of after the stories in theTimeshad been printed? Regina had mentioned she’d read some of it. Clearly, something about his fame had made her think he’d be willing to do more than investigate crime for money. He regretted ever speaking to that damned reporter.
Daffin returned to his seat and flipped open his notebook again. He needed to do his best to wipe the unfortunate encounter with Regina from his memory. “Don’t you at least want to think about it?” she’d asked him. If he wasn’t careful,he’d do nothing but. He needed to get back to his case. Henry Vickery wasn’t going to turn in himself, and by God, Daffin would die before he let the thief get away with how badly he’d beaten that boy.
Not to mention Daffin needed to erase Christmas—and Lady Regina’s proposal—from his mind.
CHAPTER FIVE
As her uncle’s coach rumbled back toward Mayfair, Regina sat silently on the seat across from Genevieve. The maid was obviously curious as to her mistress’s business at Bow Street, but she had the sense not to ask about it, and Regina wasn’t about to confess. She’d opened and closed her reticule half a dozen times, completely unable to recall why she’d opened the blasted thing to begin with. Her mind churned with the memory of Daffin looking at her with those mesmerizing green eyes and saying, “Tempting, but I’ve made my decision.”
Tempting. Tempting? Had he really been tempted or had he merely said that to be polite? Polite to a woman who’d just insulted him by offering himmoneyto bed her. Actual money. Currency. Coinage. He was right. She’d treated him like a prostitute. She winced just thinking about it. She’d made a complete bungle of the entire thing.
She didn’t blame Daffin for refusing her. How could she? She was an imbecile. An idiot. And any other word she couldthink of to describe the monumental senselessness with which she’d proceeded out into the world today to make a fool of herself in front of the one man she desperately wanted to impress. Coax into bed, even. Not only had she failed spectacularly at any coaxing, she’d managed to insult and probably anger him at the same time. Now she had to figure out how she could avoid the man’s presence for the entire rest of her life. A task that was certain to be difficult given Daffin’s friendship with Mark and Nicole, because Regina happened to be staying with Mark and Nicole at the moment. She was a guest in their town house on Upper Brook Street.
She’d been eager to leave Colchester Manor and Surrey as soon as the Earl of Dryden, her uncle’s neighbor, had begun coming around more. It turned out, Nicole was with child, due in the spring. The pregnancy was perfectly timed. Nicole had mentioned in one of her letters that she would love Regina’s company if she felt she could get away from the country. Regina had immediately written back to offer her services as a companion during Nicole’s confinement and made plans to leave for London with an alacrity that frightened Genevieve, who’d been awakened ridiculously early in the morning to begin packing.
Uncle Edward had allowed Regina to go because it involved Nicole’s pregnancy. The baby Nicole carried was hopefully the heir to the duchy and if there was one thing Uncle Edward cared about even more than securing Regina’s match, it was ensuring the heir to the duchy arrived safely. However, her uncle had made it clear that while in London, Regina should resign herself to the fact that she would marry Lord Dryden. When Nicole had written Uncle Edward to tell him that she and Mark believed Regina should be able to choose her own husband, the duke had issued an ultimatum.Fine. Find a suitable husband in London over Christmastide or return for an engagement with Dryden.
Regina had spent the entire carriage ride to London writing a list of every single eligible man of her acquaintance. An eligible man, as far as her uncle was concerned, was one with a title, the older and more revered, the better. One by one, she crossed each name off her list. None of the prospects were particularly appealing. Not to mention, she had no idea if any of them even wanted her. Several of her former suitors had married. The few who were left were no more attractive to her than Dryden. At least if she married Dryden she could stay near her grandmother in the country.
Regina had convinced Grandmama to speak to Uncle Edward about it and Lady Harriet had certainly tried, but the duke was adamant about seeing Regina settled before he died. They all suspected Regina’s marriage and the birth of the heir were the only things keeping the old man alive at the moment, and Regina loved her uncle dearly, even though he could be downright archaic when it came to things like marriage alliances.
“I’ve done wrong by you,” Uncle Edward said with tears in his rheumy blue eyes the morning Regina left for London. “I never should have allowed you to go so long without making a match. I intend to set things to rights before I go.”
Regina had tried to explain she’d made her peace with spinsterhood, but Uncle Edward wouldn’t hear of it. Lord Dryden was a decent man, from a fine family, and most importantly, he’d offered. In the end, her grandmother was old-fashioned, too. She’d deferred to Uncle Edward’s wishes as the head of the family and had been trying to cheer Regina by talking about how handsome and rich Lord Dryden was.
There was nothing specificallywrongwith Lord Dryden.The man was good-looking (he was no Daffin Oakleaf, of course, but still), indecently rich, and had always been nothing but respectful to her. But the earl didn’t love her. He’d been waiting for her, not out of lovesickness, but out of a desire for the land her uncle had promised as part of her dowry. The land that connected to Dryden’s. While marrying for land and money wasn’t odd in their world, she still couldn’t bring herself to be excited about a match with a man who was more interested in her acreage than her eyes. On the ride to London, however, she’d tried to come to terms with it. Perhaps she was being selfish, she’d told herself. Perhaps marriage to Dryden wouldn’t be so bad. She’d still be able to visit London and in Surrey they’d be close to Grandmama and all her friends in town. Wasn’t it the least she could do for her poor, dear, dying uncle? The man who’d taken her in when she’d been orphaned at the age of twelve? The man who’d been nothing but kind to her? Didn’t she want him to be settled so he might rest in peace?
Very well. They would announce the engagement in theTimessoon after Twelfth Night. She would marry the Earl of Dryden, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Daffin in all these months, and if she had to spend the rest of her life married to a man she didn’t love, in bed with a man she didn’t want, first, she would give her virginity to the man of her choice. That, she’d decided on the long, cold, bumpy ride to London, would be the one scrap of power she would have. The one vestige of control she could exert.
Only Daffin Oakleaf had turned her down. She sagged in defeat.
They were nearly to Mark’s town house when the carriage took a sharp jarring roll to the left. Genevieve screamed. Both women tumbled to the side, knocking hard against the coachwall. The coach shook and righted itself, the wheels slamming back on the pavement with a jolt.
Breathing heavily, Regina pushed aside the curtain over the window to see what happened. Another coach raced away down the road at a breakneck speed. Her heart pounded wildly. Her parents had been killed in a carriage accident. It was one of her greatest fears.
“Are you all right?” she called to the coachman, willing her breathing back to rights.
“I was just about to ask ye the same question, me lady,” the coachman called back.
“We’re fine,” she called. “If a bit rattled.”
“Don’t ye worry, me lady. We’re nearly home.”
As soon as the coach pulled to a stop in front of Mark’s grand town house, Regina and Genevieve alighted with the help of a footman. Regina made her way to the front of the conveyance and looked up at the coachman. “What happened back there?”
“That carriage came out of nowhere, me lady,” he said. “Nearly ran us off the road.”
“Just like last week,” Regina replied, biting her lip and staring at the ground, lost in thought.
Mark had use of his coach today, so Regina had asked to borrow her uncle’s town coach for her ill-fated outing this afternoon. Last week when she and Nicole had borrowed Uncle Edward’s coach to go shopping, a similar incident had occurred on their way back home. They’d shrugged it off as an accident along London’s busy roads. Besides, they all had been on edge since Cousin John’s murder last summer. Regina feared they’d never again feel as safe as they once had. Last week had been one thing. Today’s repeat incident made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
