Patrica Rice Read Online Free PDF Page B

rumors and speculation about her mother’s death and her own involvement, Daphne held her chin high and barely touched Lord Griffin’s arm as he led her to a chair.
    Before she could be seated, a young lady all in white with the puffed sleeves of several seasons ago hurried to join them. “Lord Griffin, please, introduce me before Mama comes back into the room. I have never met someone who’s talked to a highwayman before, and I have so many questions to ask.”
    Daphne heard the warm amusement in the viscount’s voice as he made the introduction. Judging by Miss Jane Dalrymple’s breathless forwardness, she was considered the town beauty. It seemed that only attractive people could get away with such behavior.
    “Please, Miss Templeton, do not think me encroaching. I have so wished to meet you. You are the only lady hereabouts even close to my age, and you have such a dashing reputation, I just thought I would die should we not be introduced.”
    Dashing reputation? Daphne’s brows rose and she heard Lord Griffin’s chuckle, but she managed a polite smile. “Then we must get to know one another, Miss Dalrymple. It will be good to have someone of my own age to converse with.”
    She was quite certain she was at least five years the girl’s senior, but she would not quibble over age differences. If the girl wished to consider her reputation dashing because her mother had committed suicide, standards were considerably different between town and country. Or did her conversation with the highwayman truly rate that ranking?
    “Oh, I knew you would be all that is proper. Mama would keep me hidden under a stone if she could. Imagine, thinking you fast simply because you have talked with a highwayman! I think it ever so exciting, don’t you?”
    Dashing, now fast—what kind of reputation had she developed in these rural circles? Daphne sent her host an inquiring look, but he merely squeezed her arm gently and released her.
    “I shall leave you safely in the company of Miss Dalrymple, shall I? I must see to my other guests.” Lord Griffin strode off, leaving Daphne momentarily stranded in a strange room with only this frippery female for company. Lady Agatha had already wandered off to gossip with her own cronies.
    Daphne was about to begin on the polite series of questions she had learned to fulfill her social obligations when Miss Dalrymple made an expression of annoyance.
    “Dash it all! Here comes Mama. She will drag me away, I know. Please say you will come riding with us Monday. Mama cannot complain if I say you are of Lord Griffin’s party.”
    Having been an object of pity and suspicion, and a nuisance to be politely invited along with her cousins for the last years, Daphne found it extremely irregular to suddenly be considered a fast woman not to be met in polite company. She made a wry smile and a murmur that could be considered assent before the protective matron arrived to snatch her daughter away.
    “Come along then, Jane. You must not be occupying all of Miss Templeton’s time. There is Mr. Riggs just come in. Let us greet him and thank him for the lovely seeds his gardener sent over last week.”
    Daphne thought herself suddenly abandoned only to have a voice intrude upon her from behind. The familiarity of the accents sent a chill down her spine until she realized it was Lord Griffin. She mentally shook her head over the lapse in her perception and turned to give him her attention.
    “You must forgive Mrs. Dalrymple, Miss Templeton. She has lived all her life in the country and abides by the rules of another age. She will come around soon enough, but you must expect to be a stranger here for a while. London ladies seldom visit these environs, particularly not ones as lovely as you.” He took the chair that Jane had just recently vacated.
    Such flattery did not often come her way, and usually then only in the most perfunctory of manners. Lord Griffin’s charm had an immediate effect, and Daphne