Never to Part by Joan Vincent

Author:Joan Vincent [Vincent, Joan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 2012-09-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

No. 23 Golden Square

Daphne contemplated the ledger’s figures. If only the ones she needed to know were writ there. Geoffrey’s gambling debts. There was no way to figure a total. If Mr. Blanchard’s hints were correct in this at least, the amount was beyond their present means even if they sold Trotter House and handed over her dowry.

Does my dowry even still exist?

The question brought to mind Wadick and his sickening advances and Richard. Elbows on the desk, Daphne leaned her forehead against her hands and massaged her brow. Instantly she was back in the Dremore library, Richard lips on hers, his arms about her.

The liberties she had permitted without objection. What he must think of me. Her behaviour perplexed Daphne. Was the gambling fever that gripped Geoffrey like this?

She leaned back in the chair, grateful that her brother had, at least temporarily, put a halt to his demand she wed Wardick. She was more thankful that Richard had agreed the treasure was to go to the finder. If only half of it would be enough perhaps some chance would remain of salvaging what Richard thought of her.

“Daphne,” Saddie said from the doorway. “Mr. Blanchard is here. He brought Master Geoffrey home.”

Her stomach twisted with the all too common wrench of fear and not a little anger. “Geof? How is—”

“Rather the worse for wear. I asked Mr. Blanchard to take Master Geoffrey to his chamber. Thankfully he is doing so.” When Daphne headed towards the door, Saddie held up a hand.

“It’d be best if you remain here.”

“Then have Mr. Blanchard come to me in the salon,” Daphne told her. She sat on the faded settee clasping and unclasping her hands. With determined resolve she pushed aside the image of Richard and concentrated on her distrust of Eldridge.

There is no kindness in Mr. Blanchard’s aura. Why did he bring Geoffrey home? Why does he ‘act’ the friend?

The assumption of intimacy in his manner and conversation troubled her. With his stated need for a rich bride why bother with her and Geof? Could he use them to hurt Richard? Would he?

Striding into the salon Eldridge went to Daphne and took her hands. “I am sorry it took so long to get Stratton to bed. When I realized he had dismissed his man I saw to him. ‘Tis not right you be burdened with the task.”

“What happened?” Daphne asked. In her anxiety she did not seek to free her hands.

“Only extremely foxed,” Eldridge said. He released her hands and drew forth a wad a small pieces of paper from his pocket. He held them out. “Copies of his vowels—his debts of honour.”

Daphne found his aura a confusing swirl. Black, browns, and dark blues, present in abundance, boded ill and there was a hint of triumph. She gingerly took the papers. “What are these?”

“Vowels from last eve and who knows when.”

Heart plummeting Daphne clenched the papers into an even tighter wad. “Tell me all.”

“Last eve after I left you, I went to my club.

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