Page 87 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

Daphne did not manage to eat much more than a morsel at breakfast, although the food was delicious. She smiled and nodded, but had little idea what was said to her.

Morris came into the dining room, his expression stern, and bent to whisper something to Mr. Cushing. That man excused himself and left the room, and Daphne swallowed in her fear.

She excused herself and left the dining room, heading back to the chamber she shared with Eurydice. She wanted desperately to know what had happened in her absence.

She only made it to the base of the stairs before Mr. Cushing came striding out of the library. He seized her elbow and fairly shoved her into a parlor. “Quickly!” he said in a whisper. “We must hurry!”

His manner was so imperious that Daphne obeyed. It was only when he closed and locked the door behind them that she wondered at his scheme. “But why? What is amiss?”

Someone called her name from the corridor. Daphne thought it was the earl, but Mr. Cushing shoved her toward the doors that opened to the gardens. “They mean to hunt the duke and his man,” he whispered. “It is a terrible mistake. We have to warn him!”

Alarm surged through Daphne. “Of course! I will just fetch my cloak.”

Mr. Cushing’s grip tightened on her arm. “There is no time! You can wear my jacket,” he said, shedding it and wrapping it around her. “Quickly!”

Daphne did as instructed, terrified for Alexander. “What did you hear? What is this about?”

“The Eye of India,” Mr. Cushing said, urging her across the lawn. “It was stolen.”

“No!” Daphne protested because she thought she should.

She had expected they would either go to the stables to fetch horses or walk toward the village. Mr. Cushing, though, was leading her toward the maze.

What was he doing?

“Yes,” he said with conviction and she noticed a hardness in his eyes that she had not seen before. “And worse, the one they recovered is a forgery.” He flung her forward, casting her into the maze so savagely that she stumbled. She realized belatedly that no one would be able to see them.

He seized his coat, hauling it from her shoulders and leaving her shivering as he glared down at her. “Where is it, Miss Goodenham?”

“Where is what?” she asked, retreating carefully.

“The real Eye of India,” Mr. Cushing said, taking measured steps in pursuit. She could not believe she had ever thought him charming and good-natured. “What have you done with it?”

“Nothing!” Daphne backed away, rounding a corner. Could she get a confession from him for Alexander? Could she be of assistance to her duke in disguise?

“But you met someone this morning.”

“How do you know that?” With every question, Daphne retreated further into the maze. She had no choice. She could not pass Mr. Cushing and she didn’t want him to touch her.

“I saw from the window,” he said with a sneer. “And that kiss, as well. Who was it? Did you give it to him?”

“I gave nothing to anyone,” she declared, which was true. He raised a hand, but she spoke first. “Were you the one who put the gem in my trunk?”

Mr. Cushing laughed. “So you did find it.”

“It was there when I went to breakfast. Did you put it there?”

“Of course, I did. Who else has the wits to steal such gems with perfect success?”

“It is not so perfect a success if there is only a forgery remaining,” she could not help but say.

He struck her then, slapping her across the face. His blow stung and revealed his true nature. “Where is the real gem now?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps you took it back.”

“Liar!” He lunged after her with fury in his eyes and Daphne fled. “I will have the gem!” he snarled and she ran as quickly as she could.

She knew she was going deeper into the maze. She knew she hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to find her way back out. But with such a villain in hot pursuit, she feared she had little chance of escape.

---