The word caught him off guard. He dismissed it.
“They might be sheltering from the rain, sir.”
Or someone had intercepted them. Ramsey would not abandon his post on the eve of the Masque. Not without good reason.
“I’ll walk that way. Assess the danger myself.”
It took effort not to break into a sprint.
Barely a minute passed before he saw them trudging across the field. Daphne tipped her face to the sky and stuck out her tongue to catch the raindrops.
Ramsey laughed as if he enjoyed her company. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it around her shoulders, tugging it tighter across her chest.
Dominic’s world darkened.
The rain turned cold against his collar.
He had never wanted to kill a man more.
Daphne saw him at the edge of the field, eyes blazing. Her laughter died. Her smile hardened into a scowl that slid beneath his skin.
Ramsey wouldn’t meet his eye.
“Duncan said I’d find you here.” His jaw ached from holding it tight. “He neglected to mention you were amusing yourself in the pasture.”
Daphne said nothing. She strode past as if he were a post in her path.
“Miss Harland insisted on walking to the church.” Ramsey’s answer came a beat too quickly. “We’ve just had tea with Mrs Buckley.”
“We would have invited you,” she called over her shoulder, “had you been here. I wouldn’t have kept you in the dark.”
The comment cut like a lash.
He was cold and tired, wet from the rain. He’d not feel guilty for saving her damn life.
“You could say thank you,” he shouted.
She swung around, hands braced on her hips. “Thank you. Thank you for proving I’m nothing but a thorn in your side.”
She turned her back on him and walked on.
He rounded on Ramsey. “You showed her my mother’s grave?”
Ramsey wiped rain off his face. “She wants answers. You can’t blame her for that. I kept our oath, but Mrs Buckley told her something. She wouldn’t say what.”
“If it concerns my mother, I have a right to hear it.”
He had faced down killers without blinking. He would not be dismissed by a woman.
He marched after her. A sensible man would return to the house, shut himself in the study, and let his temper cool. But Daphne Harland was a distraction he could not master.
“You’ll tell me where you’ve been and what you’ve said.” He followed her through the mews, aware of the stable lads pretending not to stare. “Every word. Do you hear me?”
“The same applies to you.”
She started running, not to escape the rain but him; her boots slipping on the wet cobbles.
He could have caught her easily. Made a spectacle of them both. But he didn’t give chase until she reached the cottage. He wedged his foot in the gap before she could close the door.
