“No, we’ll take the box and cologne with us too.” Daniel came to his feet and held his hand out to her. “Come, we must leave this place before we’re discovered.”
Daphne nodded and slipped her tiny hand into his.
After climbing out of the window, Daniel closed the sash gently, and they trudged back across the field towards the coaching inn. They walked the two miles in relative silence. A wistful melancholy settled around them, dragging them deeper into the depths of despair. Images of Thomas’ last moments flashed into Daniel’s mind: eyes wide with terror as he fought the urge to breathe water. Had it happened quickly? What did one think about when they realised death was inevitable?
They arrived at the coaching inn to find a new coach in the courtyard. The small family-run establishment operated with minimal staff and consequently, the innkeeper and his wife were too busy with the late arrivals to pay them any heed.
“Do you want to keep the box with you in your room?” Daniel said as they stopped outside the door to Daphne’s bedchamber.
The lines between her brows grew prominent as she searched his face. “Stay with me,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me to sleep alone, Daniel. Not tonight.”
The words tore at his heart. He’d give everything he owned to ease her pain. “What if someone should see me entering your room?”
“No one knows us here. Discretion is a skill we’ve both mastered.” She touched his arm, and it took all the strength he possessed to suppress his desire.
“Very well.” He glanced left and right. “Open the door before someone sees us.”
Once inside the private space his body reacted instantly. But one did not need to be a skilled enquiry agent to know that she wanted something else from him tonight.
Not really knowing what to do or what she expected, he followed her lead. They removed their coats and boots, washed their face and hands in the bowl of cold water on the washstand.
“I’ll sleep in my clothes,” she said as she climbed onto the bed.
And that was his cue to do the same. Stripping off his waistcoat and pulling his shirt loose from his breeches, Daniel settled down beside her.
They both lay there staring at the oak beams on the ceiling for a few seconds though it felt more like an hour.
“So what do we do now?” She turned onto her side and looked at him.
The ambiguous question left him floundering. “In what regard?”
“Now we’ve found evidence of Lord Gibson’s involvement, how should we proceed?”
What they’d found proved nothing. But he needed time to think. “Let’s g
et some sleep. We’ve a long day ahead of us tomorrow. There’ll be plenty of opportunity to discuss the case.”
Once at Elton Park, Daniel would make himself scarce. Long walks in the garden would give him the perfect excuse to be away from the main house, from the guests who had nothing better to do than pry and ask impertinent questions.
Daphne sighed. “Would you do something for me?”
Daniel cast her a sidelong glance. Did the woman not know he’d do anything she asked? “That depends on what it is you’re asking?”
“Hold me.”
It was remarkable how two simple words had the power to render him helpless. He put his arm around her and gathered her closer. Damn. If his heart continued to beat so fast, it would burst from his chest.
Daphne snuggled into him, placed her head in the crook of his arm, her hand flat on his chest. Needing to find a way to distract him from all amorous thoughts, he held her close and stroked the hair from her brow.
Exhausted from the events of the day, she drifted off to sleep in a matter of minutes. He stared at her for the longest time, buried his face in her hair, closed his eyes and inhaled the unique scent that had a magical ability to soothe his soul.
That was the moment he finally admitted the truth he’d spent years denying. He was in love with the woman sleeping in his arms. So in love with her it hurt.
Chapter 17
The wedding took place in St. Bartholomew’s: a quaint medieval church less than half a mile from Elton Park. While Daphne’s eyes welled upon hearing Anthony and Sarah recite their vows, Daniel kept his head bowed and stared at the ancient flagstones. With his sombre expression, one would think they were mourning the dead not celebrating the joining of two people in love.
“What’s wrong?” Daphne whispered, giving him a little nudge to get his attention.