Kiss Me at Christmas--Playful Brides Page 3

  Daffin would continue to work for those who could afford to pay him. Only he wasn’t about to take up a side job as a cicisbeo for the lonely ladies of the ton while he was at it. Fine, Regina wasn’t married yet, so cicisbeo was the wrong word for her offer; paid lover sounded less romantic, but it was also not going to happen.

  Daffin let his head drop against the seat back, feeling strangely depleted. Damn Christmastide. Regina’s visit had been another frustrating encounter during his least favorite season. He stood and crossed to the sideboard to pour himself another finger of brandy. It was near the end of the day, and if ever there was a reason to drink, this was it. He leaned back against the sideboard and crossed his booted feet at the ankles, letting the last twenty minutes play over and over in his mind.

  Was this what he could expect more of after the stories in the Times had been printed? Regina had mentioned she’d read some of it. Clearly, something about his fame had made her think he’d be willing to do more than investigate crime for money. He regretted ever speaking to that damned reporter.

  Daffin returned to his seat and flipped open his notebook again. He needed to do his best to wipe the unfortunate encounter with Regina from his memory. “Don’t you at least want to think about it?” she’d asked him. If he wasn’t careful, he’d do nothing but. He needed to get back to his case. Henry Vickery wasn’t going to turn in himself, and by God, Daffin would die before he let the thief get away with how badly he’d beaten that boy.

  Not to mention Daffin needed to erase Christmas—and Lady Regina’s proposal—from his mind.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As her uncle’s coach rumbled back toward Mayfair, Regina sat silently on the seat across from Genevieve. The maid was obviously curious as to her mistress’s business at Bow Street, but she had the sense not to ask about it, and Regina wasn’t about to confess. She’d opened and closed her reticule half a dozen times, completely unable to recall why she’d opened the blasted thing to begin with. Her mind churned with the memory of Daffin looking at her with those mesmerizing green eyes and saying, “Tempting, but I’ve made my decision.”

  Tempting. Tempting? Had he really been tempted or had he merely said that to be polite? Polite to a woman who’d just insulted him by offering him money to bed her. Actual money. Currency. Coinage. He was right. She’d treated him like a prostitute. She winced just thinking about it. She’d made a complete bungle of the entire thing.

  She didn’t blame Daffin for refusing her. How could she? She was an imbecile. An idiot. And any other word she could think of to describe the monumental senselessness with which she’d proceeded out into the world today to make a fool of herself in front of the one man she desperately wanted to impress. Coax into bed, even. Not only had she failed spectacularly at any coaxing, she’d managed to insult and probably anger him at the same time. Now she had to figure out how she could avoid the man’s presence for the entire rest of her life. A task that was certain to be difficult given Daffin’s friendship with Mark and Nicole, because Regina happened to be staying with Mark and Nicole at the moment. She was a guest in their town house on Upper Brook Street.

  She’d been eager to leave Colchester Manor and Surrey as soon as the Earl of Dryden, her uncle’s neighbor, had begun coming around more. It turned out, Nicole was with child, due in the spring. The pregnancy was perfectly timed. Nicole had mentioned in one of her letters that she would love Regina’s company if she felt she could get away from the country. Regina had immediately written back to offer her services as a companion during Nicole’s confinement and made plans to leave for London with an alacrity that frightened Genevieve, who’d been awakened ridiculously early in the morning to begin packing.

  Uncle Edward had allowed Regina to go because it involved Nicole’s pregnancy. The baby Nicole carried was hopefully the heir to the duchy and if there was one thing Uncle Edward cared about even more than securing Regina’s match, it was ensuring the heir to the duchy arrived safely. However, her uncle had made it clear that while in London, Regina should resign herself to the fact that she would marry Lord Dryden. When Nicole had written Uncle Edward to tell him that she and Mark believed Regina should be able to choose her own husband, the duke had issued an ultimatum. Fine. Find a suitable husband in London over Christmastide or return for an engagement with Dryden.

  Regina had spent the entire carriage ride to London writing a list of every single eligible man of her acquaintance. An eligible man, as far as her uncle was concerned, was one with a title, the older and more revered, the better. One by one, she crossed each name off her list. None of the prospects were particularly appealing. Not to mention, she had no idea if any of them even wanted her. Several of her former suitors had married. The few who were left were no more attractive to her than Dryden. At least if she married Dryden she could stay near her grandmother in the country.

  Regina had convinced Grandmama to speak to Uncle Edward about it and Lady Harriet had certainly tried, but the duke was adamant about seeing Regina settled before he died. They all suspected Regina’s marriage and the birth of the heir were the only things keeping the old man alive at the moment, and Regina loved her uncle dearly, even though he could be downright archaic when it came to things like marriage alliances.

  “I’ve done wrong by you,” Uncle Edward said with tears in his rheumy blue eyes the morning Regina left for London. “I never should have allowed you to go so long without making a match. I intend to set things to rights before I go.”

  Regina had tried to explain she’d made her peace with spinsterhood, but Uncle Edward wouldn’t hear of it. Lord Dryden was a decent man, from a fine family, and most importantly, he’d offered. In the end, her grandmother was old-fashioned, too. She’d deferred to Uncle Edward’s wishes as the head of the family and had been trying to cheer Regina by talking about how handsome and rich Lord Dryden was.

  There was nothing specifically wrong with Lord Dryden. The man was good-looking (he was no Daffin Oakleaf, of course, but still), indecently rich, and had always been nothing but respectful to her. But the earl didn’t love her. He’d been waiting for her, not out of lovesickness, but out of a desire for the land her uncle had promised as part of her dowry. The land that connected to Dryden’s. While marrying for land and money wasn’t odd in their world, she still couldn’t bring herself to be excited about a match with a man who was more interested in her acreage than her eyes. On the ride to London, however, she’d tried to come to terms with it. Perhaps she was being selfish, she’d told herself. Perhaps marriage to Dryden wouldn’t be so bad. She’d still be able to visit London and in Surrey they’d be close to Grandmama and all her friends in town. Wasn’t it the least she could do for her poor, dear, dying uncle? The man who’d taken her in when she’d been orphaned at the age of twelve? The man who’d been nothing but kind to her? Didn’t she want him to be settled so he might rest in peace?

  Very well. They would announce the engagement in the Times soon after Twelfth Night. She would marry the Earl of Dryden, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Daffin in all these months, and if she had to spend the rest of her life married to a man she didn’t love, in bed with a man she didn’t want, first, she would give her virginity to the man of her choice. That, she’d decided on the long, cold, bumpy ride to London, would be the one scrap of power she would have. The one vestige of control she could exert.

  Only Daffin Oakleaf had turned her down. She sagged in defeat.

  They were nearly to Mark’s town house when the carriage took a sharp jarring roll to the left. Genevieve screamed. Both women tumbled to the side, knocking hard against the coach wall. The coach shook and righted itself, the wheels slamming back on the pavement with a jolt.

  Breathing heavily, Regina pushed aside the curtain over the window to see what happened. Another coach raced away down the road at a breakneck speed. Her heart pounded wildly. Her parents had been killed in a carriage accident. It was one of her greatest fears.

  “Ar
e you all right?” she called to the coachman, willing her breathing back to rights.

  “I was just about to ask ye the same question, me lady,” the coachman called back.

  “We’re fine,” she called. “If a bit rattled.”

  “Don’t ye worry, me lady. We’re nearly home.”

  As soon as the coach pulled to a stop in front of Mark’s grand town house, Regina and Genevieve alighted with the help of a footman. Regina made her way to the front of the conveyance and looked up at the coachman. “What happened back there?”

  “That carriage came out of nowhere, me lady,” he said. “Nearly ran us off the road.”

  “Just like last week,” Regina replied, biting her lip and staring at the ground, lost in thought.

  Mark had use of his coach today, so Regina had asked to borrow her uncle’s town coach for her ill-fated outing this afternoon. Last week when she and Nicole had borrowed Uncle Edward’s coach to go shopping, a similar incident had occurred on their way back home. They’d shrugged it off as an accident along London’s busy roads. Besides, they all had been on edge since Cousin John’s murder last summer. Regina feared they’d never again feel as safe as they once had. Last week had been one thing. Today’s repeat incident made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

  She and Genevieve made their way up the stone stairs to the front door of her cousin’s town house and into the foyer. Genevieve quickly disappeared downstairs, while Regina handed her muff and hat to the butler and pulled her gloves from her hands.

  The servant eyed her warily. “Are you quite all right, my lady?”

  “No. I mean, yes. Quite.” She forced herself to hold still and allowed Abbott to help her remove her pelisse. Next, she calmly handed him her gloves while she forced herself to count to ten, stilling the racing of her heart. She had to find Nicole.

  “Where is her ladyship?” she asked the butler.

  “She is in the study with his lordship.”

  Drat. Regina had hoped Nicole would be alone so she could talk to her about both the incident in the coach and her disastrous encounter with Daffin. Mark tended to be overprotective when it came to his cousin and his pregnant wife. He wouldn’t like to hear that Regina had been nearly run off the road twice now. As for the incident with Daffin, she hadn’t told Nicole about her plans to visit Bow Street, nor her proposal to rid herself of her virginity. She’d been afraid Nicole would talk her out of it. After the disastrous results today, she couldn’t keep it to herself. Mortification called for companionship.

  She straightened her shoulders and made her way to the study. Perhaps she could catch Nicole’s eye and somehow indicate that she needed to talk without alerting Mark. The last thing she wanted was to allow Mark to find out what a complete fool she’d made of herself. The embarrassment of that might well send her to an early grave. Daffin had promised not to mention it to anyone. She had no reason to doubt him. He had never proven to be anything other than a complete gentleman, which made her shameful proposal even more humiliating.

  As she approached her cousin’s study door, raised voices drifted into the corridor.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Nicole?” Mark’s tone was stern and edged with something akin to anger mixed with fear.

  “I didn’t think there was anything to tell, really,” Nicole’s bright voice returned.

  “I want you to go to Uncle Edward’s estate in Surrey as soon as possible and stay until after Christmas.”

  “But that’s hiding,” Nicole replied, her voice firm and resolute. “I refuse to hide.”

  Regina furrowed her brow. What were her cousins talking about? Not wanting to eavesdrop any further, she promptly knocked on the frame of the open door.

  Mark glanced up. He had a deep scowl on his face, which softened when he recognized Regina. “Come in.”

  “Regina, there you are,” Nicole said. Her beautiful cousin was lounging on a dark leather sofa near the wall while Mark sat behind his desk. “Will you please tell my adoring husband that we will be perfectly fine staying in London until Christmastide? You look flushed, by the by.”

  Mark opened his mouth obviously to retort, but Regina stopped him.

  “Why wouldn’t we stay in London?” she asked, purposely ignoring Nicole’s remark about looking flushed. “I thought that had already been decided.” They’d all agreed to stay in London until Christmastide. Was Mark being overly solicitous because of the babe? If that was the case, why hadn’t he mentioned it before?

  “Will you please tell my lady wife,” Mark replied, still staring at Nicole, his arms folded across his chest, “that there is no possible way I will allow her to remain in London if she’s in danger?”

  “Danger?” Regina’s wide-eyed gaze met Nicole’s. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “I made the mistake of telling Mark about our little carriage accident last week.”

  “Yes, and I’m convinced it may not have been an accident,” Mark replied.

  Regina bit her lip. There was no help for it. She should tell Mark about what had just happened to her. He would be angry if he found out she’d kept it from him.

  Regina quickly made her way to Nicole’s side and perched on the sofa beside her, her hip resting near Nicole’s gently rounded belly. Regina took a deep breath. “I’m not entirely certain he’s wrong. Genevieve and I had another incident on our way home just now.”

  “What’s that?” Mark’s head snapped to face her.

  Regina related the incident as briefly and unemotionally as possible.

  “You see?” Mark replied, slashing an arm through the air.

  “Wait a moment. While it’s definitely disconcerting, it’s possible it’s nothing more than a coincidence, darling,” Nicole replied.

  “That’s true,” Regina added, nodding, even though she didn’t quite believe it herself.

  “There are no two ways about it,” Mark continued imperiously from behind his desk. “I must be out of town on business until Christmas Day, and I’m not about to leave you both here where I cannot keep you safe.”

  “Carriage accidents happen all the time,” Nicole replied.

  “Not with you in the carriage,” Mark said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest again.

  Nicole exchanged a private look with Regina. Ever since Nicole had announced her pregnancy, her husband’s solicitousness had multiplied tenfold. The two women had jested about it, but Mark seemed even more serious tonight.

  “The danger of living with a spy,” Nicole said with a sigh, pushing herself up from the sofa. Regina moved to assist her. “They’re always so quick to jump to suspicious conclusions.” She winked at Regina.

  “Need I remind you that you’re a spy, too?” Mark replied. He was a handsome man with dark hair and eyes. He became even more handsome when gazing at his red-haired wife, whom he obviously adored.

  “Thank heavens it hasn’t made me suspicious,” Nicole quipped, making her way to the door.

  Regina followed her friend, thankful Nicole was leaving the room without any prompting on Regina’s part.

  Nicole waved at her husband. “I’m going upstairs to dress for dinner. We’ll talk more when you’re being reasonable, darling.”

  “I’m being perfectly reasonable,” Mark muttered, his voice still grumbly.

  When Regina reached Nicole at the door, she whispered, “I need to speak to you.”

  “I suspected as much. Come upstairs with me,” Nicole whispered back, twining her arm through Regina’s.

  “What’s that?” Mark called after them.

  “Nothing,” Nicole replied in a singsong voice. “I’ve merely asked Regina to escort me upstairs in case a brigand jumps out from behind the staircase and attempts to accost me.”

  Mark scowled. “That is not humorous.”

  “Oh, you must admit, it’s a bit humorous, Cousin Mark,” Regina replied, smiling and pulling Nicole into the corridor.

  As soon as they were out of ear
shot, Nicole whispered, “Enough about the London coachmen who cannot drive straight. I want to hear all about your meeting with Daffin today.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The two ladies climbed the stairs and made their way down the corridor to Nicole’s opulent lavender-and-silver bedchamber that adjoined her husband’s. Regina shut the door behind them and leaned against it. She couldn’t breathe. Her stays pressed into her chest, giving her the sensation that her lungs might collapse. It wasn’t from the exertion of climbing the stairs. No, this was brought on by nothing other than acute embarrassment mixed with a healthy dose of shame.

  She eyed her cousin carefully, waiting as Nicole walked across the rug and took a seat on the settee near the window. Her cousin knew she fancied Daffin, but how did Nicole know she’d gone to visit him today?

  Nicole kicked off her slippers and lifted her feet onto the cushion of the settee. “You were so flushed when you came in, I guessed you needed to talk. Are you all right?”

  “I’m not certain.” Regina’s face heated anew. “I’ve made a complete fool of myself.”

  “Oh, no.” Nicole patted the space next to her. “In front of Daffin?”

  With a miserable nod, Regina made her way to the settee and dropped down next to her cousin. “Yes, and how did you know?”

  “I’m a spy, dear.”

  Regina had to smile at that. “I suppose I should have told you before I went, but you were napping and I thought perhaps you might try to talk me out of it.”

  “Talk you out of it?” Nicole’s eyes widened. “Why?”

  “Because of what I said to him.”

  Nicole arched a brow. “What did you say?”