Page 8 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

His jaw fell open as the woman spoke, but he did not realize it until he had to snap it closed again to speak his own answer. “You speak quite critically and freely of another person’s home, Miss Price.”

“You asked what I thought,” she said, her tone as cool as it had been from the first, utterly unruffled by his poorly concealed anger. “And as these things concern the future happiness of one who is dearer to me than my own life, I will not feign polite indifference.” Her chin came up as she sat her glass down.

Edward stared at her in some shock. No one had spoken to him that way in…well. He could not remember when. A flash of curiosity sparked through him, but he pushed it away to focus instead on her words. “You seem determined to find fault with my household, Miss Price. I assure you, though you find it ‘sparse’ in trappings, such a thing does not mark me as an inadequate guardian. I am capable of and committed to providing for my ward.” He inclined his head to Daphne, whose eyes had widened somewhat as she glanced between the two of them.

“Capable, perhaps. But aware?” the aunt asked, challenge in her tone. “Understanding? That remains to be seen.”

He exhaled, slowly, a suspicion in his thoughts, so he gave it voice. Why not? Miss Price did not seem willing to keep anything back. He ought act the same. “You believe yourself better suited to the task, do you not?”

“I believe my experience in the realm of what young ladies require far outstrips your own, and my being intimately acquainted with my niece speaks for itself.” The barest curve of her lips made him stare. Had she almost smiled? At him? Surely not. Unless she was smiling at the thought of his demise.

Before he could respond, Daphne’s soft voice spoke. “Please, Aunt. Colonel Halstead. We…we can discuss this another time, surely?”

The child must not be as used to speaking her mind as her aunt was—nor hearing others do the same. Edward cleared his throat. “Of course, Miss Daphne. You are quite right. We are all overwhelmed from the events of the previous days, most likely. This is hardly a time for debate or making decisions.”

Miss Price nodded to her niece. “That time will come later, I imagine.”

She wasn’t finished with him, then.

Edward narrowed his eyes. The time would come the moment he could speak to the woman alone. He had hoped to convince her to stay long enough to make Daphne comfortable. Now, he wondered if that was still a good idea. The woman was antagonistic, to say the least.

Daphne resumed picking at her food, gaze downcast and quiet. Every time he glanced at her aunt, the woman appeared to be watching him from the corner of her eye. His frustration mounted.

Why did it feel like he had a battle ahead of him? He lifted his glass and took another slow sip of wine. Miss Felicity Price did not trust him. Daphne, his ward, was grief-stricken and understandably listless. And he was somehow meant to broker peace with the elder and make the younger feel at home.

A curl of excitement slowly unraveled in his chest.

He did love a good challenge.

* * *

The evening meal ended in strained silence, and Felicity couldn’t help but feel she had won a victory, however small. When the servants took the last of the plates away and Colonel Halstead stood, she did as well.

“Come, Daphne. It has been a long day. You ought to retire early.” She walked around the table and held a hand out to her niece.

Daphne took the hand gratefully and curtsied to her guardian. “Thank you, Colonel Halstead. The meal was delicious.”

“You are most welcome, Miss Daphne.” He bowed, before his gaze moved sharply to Felicity’s. “Miss Price, if you have a moment, I should like a word before you retire for the evening.”

She felt Daphne’s hand tense in her own. She expected this, of course, after their verbal sparring over the meal. But so soon? She had long learned that her place in a household was safest when she remained indispensable. A woman who made herself useful rarely found herself shown the door. Perhaps pleasantness should have been her first method of attack, not possessiveness.

“Of course, Colonel Halstead. But first, I will see my niece to her room.” She tilted her chin up again, daring him to deny her such a simple thing.

“I will be in the drawing room,” he answered. Then bowed to them both again, dismissing them with all politeness.

Felicity led Daphne down the corridor, arm in arm, her mind whirling, trying to organize her list of reasons why he was an unfit guardian for her niece. All the reasons he needed Felicity to remain, to oversee Daphne’s education and entrance into Society. She was so lost in thought, she did not realize that Daphne had slowed their walk to a stop until the young woman spoke.

“Aunt Felicity? Please, do not push the Colonel too hard.”

Felicity blinked and looked into her niece’s eyes. They were the same height now. When had that happened? “Push him?” She shook her head. “In what way could I push that man?”

Daphne glanced down briefly, swallowed, then met Felicity’s eyes with an earnest expression. “I know he does not understand—I know he should. But if he sends you away, I will be alone here.” She swallowed. “I do not want to be alone. I do not want to lose you so soon, not after losing Papa.”

Felicity’s heart squeezed in sympathy, her own grief tightening in her chest. “Oh, my darling.” She wrapped her arms around her niece. “I know, Daffodil. I do. I am not going anywhere. You needn’t worry. I promise.”

Though Daphne nodded, she did not appear reassured. “Thank you. Only…only be careful what you say to him.”

“I am not going to insult him further.” Though Felicity was not entirely sure she could keep her word on that matter. “I am not trying to prove him incapable. I am trying to ensure he will understand the responsibility and honor of caring for you.”