“Good morning, Aunt,” Delilah shot back.
“Delilah, I’ve already seen you this morning. Where did you put that plate of teacakes you left with? I do hope they aren’t under your bed like last time. We’ll get another mouse.”
Jane Upton looked up from her book, obviously interested in the fate of the teacakes.
“Oh no, Aunt,” Delilah said. “This time I left them in Cousin Daphne’s room. There would never be a mouse in Cousin Daphne’s room.”
“Lady Daphne wouldn’t stand for it,” Rafe said.
“What was that?” Daphne snapped her head to the side to look at him.
“Nothing.” Rafe gave her a tight smile.
Daphne frowned at him. Why did he always have to look so handsome? He was wearing a dark gray topcoat, silver waistcoat, and tight black breeches with top boots. The man knew how to fill out a pair of breeches, she thought wistfully as she caught a glimpse of his backside when he turned. She glanced over to where Lord Fitzwell sat, his face nearly buried in the newspaper. What did Lord Fitzwell’s backside look like? She’d never noted it.
“Come sit,” Mother offered, pulling out a chair near Lord Fitzwell. Mother addressed her remarks to the rest of the room. “I was thinking everyone could take a rest after breakfast and then we’ll meet in the drawing room for charades before lunch.”
“Oh, goody. Charades,” Sir Roderick Montague drawled from behind his newspaper across the table. He folded down one corner and rolled his eyes at Daphne. She gave him a warning glance.
“I quite enjoy charades,” Lord Fitzwell offered, setting down his paper. “Don’t you, Lady Daphne?”
But Daphne was staring at Rafe, who still had that godforsaken grin on his face. Daphne cleared her throat and answered Lord Fitzwell. “I’d very much like to discuss charades with you, my lord. But first I wondered if I might have a word withyou,Captain.” She leveled her gaze on Rafe.
Rafe’s brow arched, but he flourished a hand in front of him as if allowing her to lead the way. “By all means.”
A few of the diners looked up to see them leave the room together. Delilah made as if to follow them. “Not you, Delilah,” Daphne said, pointing her cousin back toward the seating.
Delilah wrinkled her nose in a pout but flounced back over to the table where she grabbed another teacake from a new platter that had just been brought from the kitchens.
Keeping her head high, Daphne marched out of the breakfast room, down the short corridor, and into the drawing room. Rafe followed her.
As soon as the door was closed behind them she turned to him, her arms crossed over her chest. “Please tell me you intend to leave immediately after breakfast.”
“I do not,” he said simply.
Daphne’s face heated. She forced herself to count three. “What do you mean?”
He casually slid a hand into his pocket. “I mean I have no intention of leaving after breakfast or anytime today actually.”
Counting three wasn’t sufficient. She wanted to scream at him like a fishwife. She forced the words through her clenched teeth. “What about our agreement?”
“You mean the agreement in which you promised to give me a memorable kiss?”
More face heating. “Yes.”
“I daresay that momentous occasion, although admittedly well on its way to being memorable, was unfortunately interrupted.”
Daphne clenched her fists. “That was hardly my fault,” she snapped, though she was somewhat mollified that he agreed it was memorable.
“I didn’t say it was your fault. It’s simply a fact.”
“Are you mad? You’re going to usethatas an excuse as to why you refuse to leave?”
“It’s not an excuse. I did leave. Last night. I’m back. I’ve also decided that the agreement was foolish. I need to keep an eye on you.”
“Keep an eye on me?” She fought the urge to stamp her foot. “In a house where my mother, brother, and sister-in-law reside? Truly?”
“They all seem to like this Fitzhorton chap. I don’t trust him.”
