My whimpering heart raced but not from fear, from anticipation. I still wanted Daniel despite the secrets.
Toes flopping on the smooth tapestry of red and orange, I passed the window. The sun burned through the panes and fought with a gaggle of clouds. The gray was gaining. Hope might startle from the thunder.
Torn between going to her and finding secrets, I took down the box that Hope told me not to touch. My fingertips felt fire as I pulled out the first note, then all of them.
A quick scan of one had me laughing at the jests Phoebe offered. Tears welled when she mentioned the loss of a brother. Phoebe Dunn was a brilliant writer.
Soon I’d read them all, and none, none of them mentioned a child.
There was a reference to Max in the last, obviously in response to something Daniel had written about his loyal pug. Yet, there was no evidence that Phoebe Dunn had a child or would travel to London with one.
She could’ve omitted Hope in one or two letters, but how could a loving mother never talk of that precious girl?
Phoebe couldn’t be Hope’s mother. I definitely couldn’t be Phoebe Dunn. If that notion had rooted in my head, it disappeared.
Patience. She’d understand and would confirm my thoughts. I needed to get to her. She needed to see these.
Stuffing the letters into my pocket, I turned, readying to dress, hop into a carriage, and get to my friend.
But I froze.
Daniel stood in front of me and from the look in his eyes, he wasn’t letting me go.
CHAPTER 43
DANIEL—THECLOSET
Thunder barked. Lightning scattered outside his window. His grand closet that let in the proper light shined it on his Lady Ashbrook.
She stood before him, wide-eyed, awake, in the translucent dressing gown he thought would make her eyes radiate.
“You’re home early, Daniel.”
“I had a conversation with the Lord Mayor that made me need to leave.”
“Oh.” She fingered a long braid that shifted in color from wheat to red with each flash of light.
He moved closer. “My, my, what a nice surprise, my wife with my favorite things.”
With a finger to his nose, he posted in front of her. “If I wanted to visit with my wife, I just needed to find her in my closet?”
“It’s a lovely place. Very big, bigger than mine.”
He leaned down to kiss her brow, but she backed into a shelf.
“Um.Chubble. Um. I like your tailcoats.” She touched his favorite indigo jacket with the smartly cut revers. “The fabric is so nice.”
“Yes, I do have a very fine tailor.” He closed the distance, putting his hands on either side of her. “I think Mr. Weston should make you a pelisse or a new cape. I think your emerald one has weathered a great deal.”
Lightning flashed.
“Does that mean you don’t like me as I am, Daniel? Do you want to change me?”
Her tone sounded short and defensive. The workings of the female brainbox were elusive, Jemina’s particularly so. Nonetheless, he determined last night how to fix things, by sharing his heart.
“No changes. Why change the woman I love?” He reached for her hand and imparted a kiss to her palm. “I love you. I love you so deeply. That has to be what’s keeping us apart. I haven’t assured you of my affections. My household has cast such demands upon you. It hasn’t been fair.”
Her mouth, cupid’s bow and all, popped open. “How can that be? You don’t know me.”
