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Blackwell shrugged. “He’s been acting strangely all night.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t go around taunting people with bets.” Daughtry slapped down a card. “By the way, I’m out.” He leaned back in the chair, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Let’s talk for a bit.”
“Do you have a topic in mind?” Blackwell asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Daughtry turned to Asquith. “Is the youngest of your wards as stunning as the two I met this evening?”
Stunning? Asquith’s gaze focused, but he did not reply.
“The one in the lavender was quite attractive,” Daughtry went on, “but both Neville and Willard have already shown pointed interest, and I’d prefer not to have a significant rival at the outset. But what about the other one, the one you were speaking with outside, Asquith?”
Daughtry waited, brows raised. Asquith didn’t answer.
“I see.” Daughtry chuckled. “Never mind then. How about the youngest?”
Blackwell grunted. “You don’t want that one.”
Daughtry’s amusement deepened. “Why?”
“She’s trouble.”
Asquith frowned. “How well do you know Miss Annette?”
Blackwell grimaced. “Knowing her, even minimally, feels like too much. I highly suspect she’s been trying to steal my cat.”
Asquith’s annoyance eased. D’Acre House was only two doors down from Blackwell’s, and Nettie had mentioned setting out scraps.
“She’s been feeding your cat,” he said. “That’s not the same thing.”
“’Tis! I’ve asked her to stop, and she hasn’t.”
Unsmiling, Asquith held Blackwell’s gaze.
Daughtry laughed again. “Why Asquith, you’ve inherited your mother’s stare.”
Good. His mother’s stare often proved effective. “Take care with Miss Annette. She’s a spirited young lady, and she’s not yet out.”
“Impudent?” Daughtry asked as if hopeful.
“Astute,” Asquith replied.
Blackwell sent Daughtry a dark look. Then, he turned to Asquith. “Just make sure she leaves my cat alone.”
“Tell her yourself. Pay a morning call with me.” He’d like to observe Blackwell and Nettie and to make sure nothing was between them.
And, of course, he had a message to deliver to Lenora. “Tomorrow at 11.”
“Early for a morning call,” Daughtry said.
“I have urgent matters I need to attend later in the day.” And he wanted to make sure he could speak with Lenora.
Observed, perhaps, but at least uninterrupted.
Again he tuned his ear out-of-doors—the sounds of singing had grown distant. “If you’ll excuse me.” He pushed back his chair. “I wish to retire for the night.”
Considering everything he planned to undertake, tomorrow would become a whirlwind.
The two men nodded their goodbyes.
