Page 46 of Romancing Daphne

“But?” She looked up at him, sensing there was more.

“But I would ask that you be careful, Daphne. Use the intelligence God blessed you with. I have no wish to see you hurt.”

She nodded. His words sobered her significantly. If he too had notedJames’s inattentiveness, she had not imagined it. If only she knew the reason.

“There is something else I need you to do for me while I am gone.”

“Of course,” she said, grateful for the turn in topic.

“Take care of Persephone. I would never countenance the idea of leaving her behind if you were not with her. I know I can trust your judgment explicitly, especially as concerns her health.”

Daphne leaned her head against him. They’d sat in just that waymany times over the last half dozen years, both in this book room and in his library at Falstone Castle. He was not quite the affectionate brother Evander had been, but he was far more the attentive father her own had failed to be.“I will see to it that she takes care of herself.”

“And take care of yourself as well.”

She promised she would.

“And”—an almost humorous degree of reluctant resignation entered his face and voice—“spend some time with that lordling you’re so fond of. Part of me hopes my concerns are entirely unfounded.”

Daphne smiled.“I hope they are as well. It would be nice to know you aren’t the only gentleman of my acquaintance worth knowing.”

“I will tell your brother your low opinion of him,” Adam said, standing once more.

“Linus will simply laugh.” She knew it to be true. “In fairness to him and to Harry, they both fit that mold as well.”

“I imagine your father did also before his mind slipped away.” Adam hadn’t known Father during his more lucid years. Daphne herself had only a small number of memories from the time before he began shutting them all out.

She remembered little but snatches, moments frozen in time. One common thread ran through them all. She clearly recalled her father smiling—not smiling in general, smiling ather.He would sit at his desk, studying one Greek philosopher or another, and she would sit on his lap, pretending toread as well. He would often stop his studies to tell her about the gods andgoddesses who had so wholly fascinated him all of his life.

She’d been too young to still remember the details of the stories he’d told her, but she recalled with perfect clarity the feeling of being held by him and the safety she’d found there. Her father had once been a source of love and reassurance in her life. But that had been long ago, before he had grown unreachably distant. Before Daphne’s siblings had been consumed by the necessities of survival. Their departures, whether intentional or not, whether of a physical nature or an emotional one, had splintered her heart one crack at a time. Even now, despite years spent within the stable sphere of Adam’s life and home, she never entirely escaped the anxious anticipation of yet another person she loved turning her away.

Chapter Seventeen

James entered Lord and LadyPercival Farr’s ballroom with a vast deal more confidence than he had felt since being made to undertake his courtship of Miss Lancaster. For one thing, all of London was abuzz with the news that the Duke of Kielder had left town for the wilds of Shropshire, lending an air of relief and relative safety to the various gatherings of theton.Secondly, he had enjoyed Miss Lancaster’s company enough during their previous encounters to find himself looking quite forward to her company once again.

“Tilburn.”

James turned at the sound of Father’s voice. He stood in a small group to one side of the ballroom, Miss Lancaster and the duchess included. Father beckoned him over.

“We have been discussing the issues of the day.” Father held his headat that smug angle he always employed when finding himself the center of attention. Growing up seeing that stance, James had ever been careful not to mimic it.

“Politics, Father? At a ball?”

An iciness entered Father’s expression, though probably apparent onlyto James. Father did not countenance being corrected, especially in thepresence of others.

“I do not believe the topic offended anyone.” Father glanced around the group.

Mr. and Mrs. Fillmore, who lived very near Techney Manor in Lancashire, recognized the cue, no doubt from their extensive familiarity with it. The Fillmores were more devoted to Father than the rambunctious muttof Mother’s was to James. Their place in Society did not equal that of anearl, even one of relatively minor importance, and thus they did not receiveinvitations to all the events Father did during the Season, but when theydid find themselves in his company, they fawned on him. “Of course weweren’t offended,” Mrs. Fillmore offered quickly.

“’Twas fascinating.” Mr. Fillmore nodded, apparently for emphasis, then added like a good hanger-on ought,“As always, my lord.”

Father looked quite satisfied.“It seems the topic has not proven distasteful after all.”

James held back the observation that both the duchess and Miss Lancaster had not offered their opinions.

“It seems to me a great many changes are needed in our nation just now,” Father said.

As Father pontificated, James stepped closer to Miss Lancaster.“How long has he been holding court?” he whispered.

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