Page 16 of Romancing Daphne

“Good evening, Your Grace, Your Grace.” He made the appropriate bows and received the expected responses.“I saw your family was in attendance tonight and thought I would drop in.”

“We are so pleased you did, Lord Tilburn,” the duchess said with her usual grace.

“No, we’re not,” the duke said with his usual testiness.

James allowed his gaze to drift to Miss Lancaster. He knew the moment she realized he was watching her. Color stole over her cheeks—not the practiced blushing so many young ladies in Society had perfected but the fiery, spotty color of one truly embarrassed by something. Despite his continued discomfort at being cajoled into pretending a friendship with her, Jamescouldn’t help feeling bad for putting her to the blush.

He offered a smile and an inclination of his head. She only blushedmore deeply. To her credit, she didn’t turn and hide nor melt into a heap ofembarrassment. She kept her place and offered a“Good evening.”

“And a good evening to you.”

The duke shot them all a look of unfettered annoyance.“I believe we have thoroughly established that the evening is a goodone.Let us move past the polite posturing and on to the meaninglessconversation.”

Miss Lancaster’s color heightened significantly. It seemed the poor young lady needed rescuing from her brother-in-law as well as Society.James could certainly do that much. Father regularly intimidated Motherinto fitful fretting.And Bennett was forever being tormented by their fatheras well. James had often been thrown into the role of rescuing knight. Hewas convinced he spent more time fixing his family’s various problems thanhe spent eating or sleeping. He stepped past the duke and duchess andmade his way to Miss Lancaster’s side.

“How have you enjoyed the opera?” She spoke quietly without looking up at him.

James opted to act as though she were entirely at ease with him, the ideal person with whom to have an unexceptional chat. That was his part, after all.“I confess the performers themselves seem a bit bored with the show, which makes it that much harder for the audience to not be, especially those of us who have no idea what any of them are saying.”

“Do you mean to tell me you aren’t proficient in Italian?” Her tone was light, with no hint of criticism.

“I don’t even know enough to be considered dismal at the language,” James said.

The tiniest hint of a smile touched her face. James didn’t think he’d everseen her truly smile. The realization made him worry. Was she mistreated,punished for her social disappointments? He hoped not. He sat in thevacant chair next to hers.

“I am afraid, Lord Tilburn, I cannot say much more for my own abilities with Italian.” Her words carried that ever-present nervous quiver at the back of her voice. In a flash of clarity, James understood something about her. Miss Lancaster was shy, painfully so, if he didn’t miss his mark. Little wonder, then, they’d felt the need to coerce someone into calling on her. Still, she pressed on. “My lack of proficiency has led me to spend my evenings at the opera imagining my own translation of what is said between the performers.”

“Invent it as the evening plods along?” It was a very entertaining solution to the situation. “And what has this evening’s selection been about, according to your translation?”

“Well.” Her brow furrowed as she recounted in mock-serious tones.“The larger man with the dark hair, he is on a quest to ascertain the whereabouts of a misplaced Cornish pasty.”

So unexpected was the remark that James laughed right out loud with enough volume to draw the attention of the nearby boxes as well as that of the duke and duchess. He bit his lips closed and held back the remainder of his laugh. “A Cornish pasty?” he repeated once his voice was under control again.

“Not just any Cornish pasty. The most delicious Cornish pasty ever created, hence all of the weeping at the end of act 1.”

He didn’t fight his grin. “Those Italians do take their pasties very seriously.”

“Indeed,” she said with that same small suggestion of a smile he’d seen earlier.

This was a side of her he’d not expected. If only Society were shown even a glimpse of it, she wouldn’t want for attention. But the timidity he sensed in her likely prevented that. Thus the need for securing ready-made friends to keep her company.

“How have you been since last we met?” He wished her to feel enough at ease to continue in lighthearted conversation.

“I have been well, thank you.” Her voice grew slightly steadier.“We received word that my brother is to arrive in London next week. I find myself suddenly less miserable at the prospect of remaining here.”

“I believe you said your brother was a navy man.” He had to think a moment to recall the man’s name.“Linus.”

Again the smallest suggestion of a smile, accompanied by an unmistakable glimmer of gratitude in her eyes.“You remembered.”

“You sound surprised.”

Her color heightened again.“Not many people pay much heed to what I say.”

James knew enough arrogant poppinjays to fully believe she didn’t exaggerate. Too many in Society were too full of their own importance.“It seems to me, Miss Lancaster, not many of those you regularly converse with are terribly bright.”

“One of those peopleisonly fifteen,” she confessed in a tone of exaggerated seriousness. “And she is my sister, which I am certain doesn’t help in the least.”

“Younger siblings are positively unbearable,” he said with a grin.

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