Page 18 of Dangerous Illusions (Dangerous #1)

“Silence,” St. Merryn snapped. “You know nothing about it. We Tarrants have had nothing to do with Deverills for more than sixty years, and I do not propose to alter that fact today. Leave my property at once, sir, and never dare cross onto it again.”

Daintry, furious now, cried, “You are unjust, Papa! Even if the cause of the feud was something dreadful, Deverill had nothing to do with it, and if Lord Jervaulx never even thought the finer points important enough to pass on to him, there can be nothing to warrant such enmity now.”

“Deverill only recently became the heir,” St. Merryn said. “Stands to reason he don’t know everything yet. Jervaulx ain’t had time to tell him.”

Turning on her brother, Daintry said, “Do you know the facts, Charles? Has Papa told you? Well, has he?”

Charles, caught off guard, looked dismayed. “Here, I say, it’s none of my affair. Davina, tell her. Not my affair at all, but dash it, Daintry oughtn’t to talk to my father in that dashed impertinent fashion. Tell her.”

Davina, pressing her lips together, said nothing.

Looking around for allies, Daintry realized that Susan and Melissa—neither of whom she would have expected to fill that role—had vanished.

Sir Geoffrey looked annoyed. Lady Catherine still looked fascinated.

Lady St. Merryn was engaged with her salts bottle, and Cousin Ethelinda was engaged with Lady St. Merryn.

Only Lady Ophelia appeared at all likely to back her.

“Aunt, please.”

But Lady Ophelia shook her head. “I can do nothing to prevent your father from making a fool of himself if he wishes to do so, my dear. Tuscombe Park does belong to him, after all, and he can deny anyone he dislikes the privilege of setting foot upon its soil.” She smiled at Deverill.

“It has been extremely stimulating to make your acquaintance, young man.”

“Never mind that,” St. Merryn snapped. “Must I call my servants to escort you from the premises, sir?”

“That will not be necessary. I can find my way. Your servant.” Deverill bowed, his dignity apparently intact, and strode from the room, nodding at Sir Geoffrey, who held the door open for him, as though he had been a lackey.

Daintry waited only until Geoffrey shut the door again before rounding on her father. “Papa, you are mistaken—”

“Silence, I said!” St. Merryn bellowed, advancing on her with menace in his eyes.

“How dare you speak to me as you did? Have you no manners? Is this what your precious education has produced? You see, Ophelia?” Pausing in his advance, he glared at Lady Ophelia, who gazed imperturbably back.

“You see what you have created with your foolish nonsense? At least Susan has had better sense than to—” He broke off, looking around the room in sudden bewilderment.

“Where is Susan? And Melissa? Not that I want them, mind you, but where the devil did they disappear to?”

Seacourt said blandly, “I sent them away, sir, when it became clear that this discussion was no concern of theirs.”

“You did?” St. Merryn blinked at him owlishly. “Blessed if I know how you manage that sort of thing, lad.”

“A man is master of his own household, surely.”

“Oh, surely,” St. Merryn agreed, grimacing, “but how the devil he convinces the women of that fact is what I should like to know. I am master here at St. Merryn, right enough.” His glare swept the room, as if he dared anyone in it to challenge his declaration, and came to rest upon Daintry.

“You still here? Thought I sent you to your bedchamber, girl.”

“No, Papa, you did not,” she said. “You ordered me to be silent and then demanded to know if I had any manners. Since I could not reply to the second statement without disobeying the first, and since the question was clearly rhetorical, I did not attempt to answer. But you did not tell me to leave the room.”

“Well, I’m telling you now, and I’ll tell you another thing, too, my girl. You are to have nothing more to do with that lying jackanapes Deverill. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, sir, but unless you mean for me to send regrets to Mount Edgcumbe and the other places to which I have accepted invitations for house parties, and to remain here throughout the entire London Season, I cannot promise to have nothing to do with him. When I encounter him, as I am extremely likely to do, good manners will demand that I be civil to the man.”

“Damn it, don’t quibble! Go away!”

She went, hearing Sir Geoffrey say as she passed him, “I do not know why you put up with her impertinence, sir. I am sure I should never tolerate such behavior from Melissa.”

On her father’s “Ha!” she closed the door, only to hear it open and shut again seconds later as she was nearing the stairway to the upper parts of the house. Turning, she beheld her sister-in-law, and stifled a sigh of annoyance.

“Really, Daintry,” Davina began before she had even caught up with her, “I cannot understand why you persist in stirring up such commotions. I had hoped, just this once, to come home to a little peace and quiet. Life amongst the beau monde is exhausting, and I had looked forward to finding at least a modicum of tranquility here at Tuscombe Park.”

“I suppose that means that you and Charles are at outs again,” Daintry said. “Who is the lovely Lady Catherine Chauncey, Davina? Is she Charles’s retaliation for your indiscretions in Brighton, or Geoffrey’s latest conquest?”

Davina stiffened. “You never cease to amaze me, Daintry. Such vulgar accusations are entirely unwarranted, I assure you. She is a cousin of Sir Geoffrey’s, just as he said, a widow for whom he feels a natural, even admirable, sense of responsibility.

Her husband fell at one of those dreadful places on the Continent. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Daintry did feel slightly chagrined, but she saw no point in admitting as much. Instead, she said, “Is that a new gown? Did you have some new things made up for Charley, too?”

Davina’s gray eyes lit with laughter. “Goodness, are you going to tell me Charlotte wants new dresses? It must be for the very first time. I am persuaded she would liefer have a new riding habit, but I did not see any reason to have one made up at London prices or in Brighton, I can tell you. It was bad enough having to discover a new governess, but we did find an acceptable woman, who promised to come to us at once. I would like to know, however, just how Charlotte frightened away Miss Pettibone.”

“She asked her more questions than the good lady was able to answer,” Daintry said bluntly.

“Miss Pettibone, my dear Davina, expected to teach her to do fancy needlework, to speak a few fashionable phrases in French, and to play the pianoforte in elegant style. She was not prepared for a child whose French surpassed her own and who reads Latin and a bit of Greek as well. Nor was she a match for Charley when it came to persuading her to practice deportment or her music lessons, things in which she has not the smallest interest. I only hope this new one is better.”

Davina shuddered. “I do not know how your aunt expects us to find a husband for such a child.”

“Well, you scarcely need think about it at this early date,” Daintry said, her ready sense of humor stirred by the thought.

“Oh, you may laugh,” Davina said bitterly, “but you, of all people, ought to understand the difficulty she will face. I am not the only one to suspect that it was not you who gave the congé to your various suitors, but they who fled in dismay. What gentleman wishes to marry a woman as well-educated as himself?”

Daintry said sharply, “I’ll have you know, Davina, that not one of my suitors feared my education, for not one of them had sufficient understanding to fear it.

Indeed, all three proved to be little more than fashionable fribbles.

I am going up to Charley now,” she added, striving to moderate her rising tone, since Davina was looking increasingly wary. “Will you come?”

“No,” Davina said hastily, “I must see that my woman is attending to my unpacking. Charlotte will be allowed to come down to dinner this afternoon, in any event, will she not?”

“I daresay she will,” Daintry said, sorry now for her brief outburst, knowing Charley would be waiting hopefully for her mother to come up and see her. “She has missed you, you know.”

“Has she, indeed?” Davina’s tone was skeptical. “We had no more than three letters from her the entire time we were gone.”

“And how many did you or Charles write to her?” Daintry demanded, her temper rising again.

Flushing, Davina turned away. “I must see to my unpacking.”

Sighing, aware that she had not handled Davina well, Daintry went to the upper west wing of the house, where the schoolroom and Charley’s bedchamber were located.

Not much to her surprise, she found Susan and Melissa with Charley in the schoolroom.

The two little girls got politely to their feet when she entered, and she saw that Charley wore Melissa’s gold bangle on one wrist and had been admiring the way the sunlight from the window reflected from its highly polished surface.

“That bracelet is lovely,” Daintry said. Grinning at her sister, she added, “And your ear bobs are dazzling, Susan. I seem to be the only one for whom Sir Geoffrey did not bring a gift. Even Cousin Ethelinda got a new silk scarf.”

“I daresay he simply forgot to give you whatever it is he brought you,” Susan said placidly. “Things did become a trifle unsettled down there, did they not?”

“That is certainly one way to put it.”

Susan grimaced. “Did Papa forbid Deverill the house?”

“He did. He was most unfair.”

“Oh, Daintry, do not tell me you have formed a tenderness for that deceitful young man! It will never do, for Papa will shout himself into a seizure, or worse.”

“Nonsense, Susan. He said he never raises his voice.”