Page List


Font:  

“Both.”

They were silent for a moment. Daphne’s mind was engaged in trying to decipher what that meant. They shared a mutual attraction, a hidden passion that once released burned with ferocious intensity.

“I remember the first time I met you,” Thorpe suddenly said. “I’d missed the wedding, what with it being a small family affair, and Thomas brought you to London.”

“We went to the theatre, I recall.” Daphne had fond memories of the evening. She’d found Thorpe friendly, charming. A true gentleman. “A wealthy merchant lent you his box even though you hate opera.”

“I despise any expression of sentimentality.”

“But Thomas told you I’d always wanted to go.” The emotive performance had stolen her breath, surpassed all expectation. “It was kind of you to take us. From what I remember you were thoroughly bored.”

“The opera holds no fascination for me. Watching the look of joy and wonder on your face proved to be far more captivating.”

Heat crept up her neck to warm her cheeks. He had studied her without her knowledge. “The music carried me away. The beauty in their voices brought a tear to my eye more than once.”

“I remember,” he said softly. After averting his gaze for a moment, he looked up at her. “There is no need to be jealous of Lily. Whatever happened between them must have had something to do with the nature of their work. Thomas was a loyal man. I cannot imagine him ever having a reason to hurt you.”

Thorpe could not have said anything more damning. Thomas had every reason to despise her. Tears formed and the silly things trickled down her cheek before she could wipe them away.

“You must miss him,” Thorpe continued.

“It’s not that,” she said searching in her reticule for a handkerchief.

“Then what is it?” He reached across the carriage and handed her a navy-blue cotton square embroidered with his gold initial. “Here, take mine.” Seeing the solitary letter D reminded her that Thorpe was but one of many names he used to protect his identity when working. But he’d always been Daniel.

Daphne brought his handkerchief to her nose and sniffed. The aromatic scent of nutmeg, wood and lavender flooded her nostrils. It was a smell she would never forget.

“They are tears of guilt, not sorrow,” she said.

“There was nothing you could have done to save him.”

“Oh, there was.” It didn’t matter what she said or did, Daniel believed her capable of nothing but good. “If I’d loved him as he’d wished perhaps he might have confided in me.” It felt good to confess her sins. “I married him because that was what my father wanted. I made a promise to him on his deathbed, agreed to honour the pledge he’d made to Thomas’ father many years before. Our parents knew that once they were gone, we were both alone in the world, without siblings and cousins to support us. It brought our fathers peace to know that Thomas and I had each other. Sadly, love was never a factor in our decision to wed.”

Daniel sat back in the seat. “Did Thomas know that is how you felt?”

“He did, but he always hoped our friendship would grow into something deeper, more profound. As did I. But it wasn’t to be.” Daphne hung her head in shame. She’d let Thomas down. Wiping the tears away she looked up at the man she’d grown to trust. “Not all friendships blossom into love. Not all lovers become friends. We both soon realised that the secret ingredient was missing. That no matter how hard we tried we could not force the feeling.”

Daniel scratched his head. “But when Lily opened the door, I saw the way you looked at her. Jealousy is a trait most people struggle to hide. And from your questions earlier, one would assume the thought that Thomas was attracted to Lily bothers you.”

What was she supposed to say? That she was so heartless she cared not for the husband she’d lost, only for the man who caused passion to flame in her chest?

“As always your instincts are correct. But Thomas was not the cause of my unease or my resentment towards a rival.” Her cheeks felt so hot they must surely be glowing. “I was jealous because of the way Lily looked at you. I asked the questions to gauge your reaction to her. Do you find her attractive? Do you want to kiss her the way you kissed me?”

There was a moment of silence as they stared into each other’s eyes. The sound of their laboured breathing filled the air.

“Then I defer to my earlier answer.” Daniel sat forward. “You are the most attractive woman of my acquaintance. I have no desire to kiss anyone but you.”

The sudden rush of excitement clouded her vision. She felt drunk, a little dizzy. The fluttering in her stomach sent shivers shooting through her body. Only in Daniel’s arms did she feel at peace, and she so desperately needed to banish the ghosts of the past.

“I seem to recall talk of an experiment,” she said, the need to lose herself in Daniel’s sinful mouth her only thought now.

“An experiment?” A sinful smile touched his lips. Lord above, it was the most spectacular thing she’d ever seen. He crossed the carriage to sit at her side. “And what might it involve?”

“Well,” she began but her hands were shaking and she struggled to form a word. “We … we must determine if physical desire always leads to a moment of madness.”

“As any man of science will tell you, when it comes to experiments all working conditions must be the same.” He cupped her cheek and ran the pad of his thumb over her lips. Molten heat pooled between her thighs. “Sit astride me, Daphne.”

Those words were her undoing.


Tags: Adele Clee Historical