Barbara Metzger Read Online Free PDF Page A

as anyone. There was no one Gray would rather see in his mother’s place than Lady Whilton. She was already one of the family. Or had been. His father was right: She’d never take up with Gray or his family now.
    “Deuced shame, too,” the earl mumbled. “One of the finest females a fellow is like to come across.”
    “Lady Whilton?”
    “Her, too. But I meant little Daphne. Sweetest gel you’ll ever find. Too bad she thought you were some kind of god, a regular hero. The silly twit.”
    There was nothing for it but for Graydon to leave town. No, the country. If he was gone, perhaps Lady Whilton and the earl could get together without upsetting Daffy, who’d never had a selfish bone in her body. She wouldn’t curse his father if he wasn’t around to embarrass them all. So he’d leave. To hell with the empty London life, and to hell with the succession and his father’s dreams of a government career for him. Graydon emptied his purse and bought himself a commission. She wanted a hero, he’d damned well be a hero.
    *
    Graydon was right, the older couple did manage to settle their differences eventually, without his presence as a source of conflict. They shared his letters from the Peninsula, glowed with pride when his name was mentioned in the dispatches, and worried together over rumored battles. What they didn’t do was plan his homecoming.
    Daphne never asked about him or showed any interest in his posted valor. Her mother was careful never to mention his name, in return for Daphne’s agreeing to reenter society. Since it was either that or see her mother mope around the house all day, Daphne attended a few local assemblies. The men she danced with were mostly old friends like Squire Pomeroy’s son Miles, too delighted Howell was out of her life and out of the country to ask awkward questions. The new young curate, a visiting scholar, someone’s nephew down from university, were all pleasant partners, undemanding and unexciting.
    Lady Whilton got her to Brighton for the summer by pleading her cousins needed the holiday. Torrence had had the measles that spring at school and was still recuperating. Eldart was growing so fast that, at thirteen, he was almost as tall as Daphne. Lady Whilton insisted she couldn’t manage them on her own, when Daphne tried to stay behind in Hampshire, and the boys added their persuasive voices. No one was more fun at the beach than Daphne, no one could ride better than their favorite cousin. How could she refuse? They were turning into fine lads, with no remnants of that nervous timidity they’d shown at first. Any father would have been proud, except Uncle Albert, who ignored his sons’ existence altogether. Daphne believed this was a mixed blessing, for the rakehell’s influence could only have been for the worse, but his cold disregard had to hurt the boys’ feelings. Daphne had to supply what sense of security and family feeling she could, even if it meant going to Brighton.
    There were some stares and titters at first, until Lady Minton ran off with her head groom. Daphne’s broken troth was old hat, after all, and the scandalmongers had other bones to gnaw. Besides, Daphne spent the majority of her time with her cousins, letting her mother accept Lord Hollister’s invitations with a clear conscience.
    Daphne held out against London in the fall, but her mother was so disappointed and restless, she surrendered by the spring Season. She refused to stay at Howell House, though, no matterwhat arguments were brought to bear. If the expense of renting a house was too dear, they needn’t go at all. If her mother was insecure without a male’s presence, let them take their trusted butler, Ohlman. Daphne would not stay at his house under any conditions, even if he was on another continent. It wouldn’t be proper, she said; it would lead to more gossip. It would hurt.
    They took a small house in Half Moon Street, Mama, Cousin Harriet, Daphne, and Ohlman. It was nicely