“And you’re the person to judge him? Not my family?” Daphne pressed a hand to her forehead. A headache was quickly forming behind her eyes. She was going mad. She could feel it. It was not possible that she was standing here having this absolutely infuriating conversation with this man. It defied logic.
“I’ve been trained, Daphne. I’ve seen quite a lot of human nature. Your brother is astute, no question, but he’s been trained for war, not for assessing the details in human behavior. Spying is a very different line of work.”
“Your arrogance astounds me. I cannot fathom how you think you’re the best person to judge someone with whom I should keep company.”
“I feel an obligation to your family.” He paused. “And to you.”
Daphne’s heart wrenched. That’s all she was to him. An obligation.
“So you refuse to leave?” she forced herself to ask.
“That’s right.”
She clenched her teeth and stomped past him. “Fine. But stay out of my way.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Rafe took a brandy glass from Swifdon, who had just finished handing another to Claringdon. The three men stood in Swifdon’s study. Rafe had asked them to have a drink with him. Swifdon and Claringdon were both privy to the secrets of the War Office, having been high-ranking military officers as well as current members of Parliament.
“My thanks. I needed this.” Rafe lifted the glass and tossed half its contents into the back of his throat.
“I thought you might. You look a bit worse for wear. A house party is not exactly your preferred venue, is it, Cavendish?” Swifdon took a seat behind his large cherrywood desk and gestured to the other two men to sit in the dark leather chairs that rested in front of it.
“You’re right,” Rafe replied.
“I wondered why you stayed for the weekend,” Claringdon added. “You’re notthatfond of free liquor.”
“Lady Daphne would disagree with you,” Rafe replied. He glanced up to see Swifdon and Claringdon exchange a look.
“My sister’s opinion matters to you so much?” Swifdon wanted to know.
Rafe shook his head. “Isn’t it obvious she doesn’t want me here?”
“That’s an understatement.” Swifdon laughed. “You told me she was angry with you, but until seeing her in the breakfast room this morning, I didn’t realize how serious you were.”
“You feel it’s necessary to stay, though?” Claringdon asked.
Rafe took another sip. “I don’t want Lady Daphne to change her mind about the mission, but there’s something else.”
The two other men exchanged another quick glance. “Yes?” Swifdon prompted.
“I don’t particularly care for this Fitzwell chap.”
“Can’t say I know him well, myself,” Claringdon said.
Swifdon pushed back in his chair and let out a long sigh. “Daphne’s usually daring and free-spirited but in this case she made a list. A long list of eligible gentlemen. She rated them and ranked them. Apparently, Fitzwell had the highest score.”
Rafe nearly spat his drink. “She scored them?” She actually gave themscores?” Rafe gaped. “I can’t believe it.”
“It’s not particularly romantic but you must admit, it’s efficient,” Swifdon said with another laugh.
“Seems a sight better than how I went about finding a wife,” Claringdon added.
Rafe sat up straight and set his glass on the desk in front of him. “Good God. If Fitzwell earned the highest marks, I shudder to think what I received.”
Julian cleared his throat. “I can’t say I saw the list myself but I don’t think you were on it, Cavendish.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Of course not.”
