Page 52 of Barbarous

“You saw Hugh leaving?”

Amelia picked up another piece of bacon and Daphne fought the urge to scream—not that she would be heard above the dogs.

“Yes, the racket of carriage wheels woke the pugs.” Her silver eyebrows descended into a line as straight as the blade of a sword. “I hope he does not plan to make a habit of such uncivil behavior.”

More bacon hit the floor and Daphne soldiered onward. “You mentioned a woman, my lady?”

“The girl is his daughter, I would swear to it.” She paused in the act of distributing more bacon, a brief, sphinxlike smile curving her lips. “He was sweet on me, you know.”

It was all Daphne could do not to snatch the dish of bacon from the old lady’s hands and hurl it into the hallway. Instead she swallowed, took a deep breath, and tried again. “I beg your pardon, but who was sweet on you?”

“He was Thomas’s friend and spent an entire summer here. I’d recognize a Marlington anywhere. Red hair, the whole lot of ’em.”

“Marlington?”

“Yes, the Duke of Carlisle. He was sweet on me,” she repeated. “But I never liked him after he pulled one of my pugs’ tails.”

“And you say this woman is his daughter?”

“Must be—that hair, no mistaking it.”

A footman entered bearing pilchards, and Lady Amelia looked from her empty dish of bacon to the heap of fish, and frowned. “No, no, no! We’ve already got plenty of those—what we need is more bacon.”

Discussion ensued, but Daphne did not hear it. All she could think of was the woman Hugh had left with.

A duke’s daughter?

* * *

Daphne told herself she should be grateful for Hugh’s departure because it saved her a very painful conversation. She could hardly be faulted for her silence if he wasn’t actually here to confess to, could she?

Her conscience told her that logic was spurious, but Daphne did not care.

Another thing his absence saved her from was further acts of foolishness. Because that was what she was, a fool.

She cringed every time she thought of her naïve infatuation. But that was all over now. Instead of mooning over the duplicitous rake, she began making plans for her long-delayed trip to London and arranging to have the house in Yorkshire readied for occupancy.

Without Hugh to distract her, she also completed the rough draft of her long-suffering paper in just under a week. She was astonished by how much she’d missed her work and rejoiced at the return of her peace of mind.

It was unfortunate that peace was short-lived.

Unlike Daphne, her sons were devastated by Hugh’s abrupt departure, their sorrow mitigated slightly by the discovery that Mr. Boswell and the parrot—and the two dogs—had remained behind.

Hugh had taken Kemal with him and left his disconcertingly attractive second mate, Martín, in charge of his animal entourage. Daphne doubted he was the best role model for two young boys, especially after Rowena told her of the seductions and fights his presence had sparked in the servants’ quarters. While Daphne did not entirely trust Rowena’s judgment on the matter, she had no doubt Martín Bouchard was a consummate ladies’ man. The combination of dark honey skin, golden eyes, and sun-bleached hair made him unusual, exotic, and extremely attractive.

He also had a magnificent physique, which he took pains to exhibit. He wore breeches of butter-soft leather—so tight as to be obscene—boots as highly polished as his captain’s, and shirts of fine lawn, which he topped with form-fitting waistcoats. His habit of forgoing a coat caused discontent and grumbling among the male staff and starry eyes and heaving breasts among the females.

Hugh had warned her that one must choose one’s battles with Bouchard, so Daphne had ignored his inappropriate attire and arrogant attitude.

Until now.

She was in the library selecting the books she would take with her to London when the boys crashed into the room, brandishing swords and engaged in a noisy duel.

“What fine swords—wherever did you get them?” Daphne asked. “Here, let me see one.”

Richard stopped jabbing and slashing and handed her the sword, hilt first. It was made from wood but cunningly painted to resemble metal, complete with jeweled hilt.

“These are impressive.”