Page 16

T hree days later

“You must help me design my bouquet,” Selina insisted as she sat with Daphne in the Edgerton House conservatory. “I know no one else as fond of and knowledgeable about flowers.”

“I’d be happy to.” Daphne forced a smile, reminding herself for the umpteenth time that it had been three days since Cassian Rourke’s departure from London, and she must put the man out of her mind.

“Hurrah.” Selina beamed and clapped her hands before scooping up her teacup and taking a sip. “Mama would choose flowers because of their colors without a thought to their true meaning.” She winked at Daphne. “You taught me that. That flowers have a language of their own.”

Daphne stood from the settee they were both seated on and went to a shelf where she and Ivy had placed books they’d brought along with them to London, or new ones they’d acquired since arriving. Bookshop visits were a weekly jaunt for the Bridewell sisters.

“Which flowers are all about love?” Selina asked as Daphne settled next to her again.

“Many of them have some meaning related to love.” Daphne opened the book so they both could leaf through the pages. “We should have baby’s breath for certain.”

Selina bent to look at where Daphne pointed on the page. “Everlasting love. Oh, goodness, yes. I want that.”

Daphne flipped a few more pages as Selina looked on.

“Oh, the camellias look promising,” she said as she ran her finger along the list of meanings of the various colors of camellia blooms.

Daphne tensed, more affected than she wanted to be. “Yes, camellias are wonderful flowers.”

“Pink for longing, red for the flame of your heart.” Selina smiled as she read. “I like both of those.”

Daphne felt tears well and tried to will them away. She reached up to swipe at one before it could fall.

“Will you tell me what’s troubling you?” Selina asked softly, still sifting through the illustrations of flowers and their meanings. “I know you’re trying to hide it, so I said nothing.” She finally lifted her eyes to Daphne’s. “But I want to help if I can.”

“You can’t help, but I appreciate how much you want to.” Daphne smiled, and this time it wasn’t an effort. She truly appreciated Selina’s friendship, and she wanted to be happy for her good fortune, rather than fixating on her own heartache over a man she barely knew.

Selina sipped her tea, watching Daphne over the rim of her cup.

“I’ll be fine. I promise,” Daphne told her.

“If it’s Moreland, I want you to allow me to enlist Matthew’s aid. He’s connected to powerful men and even has contacts in the Home Office.”

“Can we get Moreland exiled from England?” Daphne teased.

Selina grinned. “I’d be willing to ask Matthew to try.”

“It’s not Moreland who has me acting like a fool.”

“You’re not a fool,” Selina said firmly. “I won’t allow you to speak of yourself that way for what that deceiver did.”

Of course, Selina did not know she’d almost immediately set her heart on yet another deceiver. Maybe she wasn’t a fool, but it seemed her heart was.

Though she did agree with Ivy’s assessment. Moreland was vile, while Cassian had simply been blinded by loyalty, and she couldn’t hate him for that.

“Is it Windham?” Selina asked softly.

“Why would you think so?”

“After his return to London…” Selina hesitated. “He seemed to notice you in a way he hadn’t before. Indeed, I caught him watching you on several occasions.”

Guilt flooded her cheeks with heat. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for. I had no claim on Windham.” Whatever fondness she’d shown for him in the past, Selina seemed to feel no regret at all about choosing Strathmere.

“But you two did have something, did you not?”

Selina looked pensive, then selected a macaron from a plate of treats that had been delivered with the tea tray. She took a bite, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with her pinky before replying.

“We had a sort of flirtation. I liked how buoyant he was, how jovial. But you know how it is during the Season. The day after a ball, a gentleman sends bouquets to half a dozen ladies. Until the question is asked, no one has a claim on anyone else.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

“It’s all a game.” A smile made her eyes sparkle. “Thanks to Matthew, I’m free of it.”

Daphne no longer cared about playing the game either, but she still felt ill at ease.

“I’d never betray you,” she told her friend.

Selina reached out and squeezed Daphne’s hand. “I never had my heart set on Windham. And when he disappeared, I knew he didn’t have his set on me either.”

Daphne winced. “He wasn’t being thoughtless, Selina. He’d broken his leg.”

“Goodness, did he?” Selina set her teacup aside and leaned in. “But how did he return so quickly? I once sprained my ankle and couldn’t dance for a week.”

Daphne licked her lips. Might as well have it all out in the open, even the parts that didn’t reflect well on her. “He didn’t return.”

Selina stilled, furrowing her brow. “But I saw him. I danced with him.”

“That was his twin. Captain Cassian Rourke.”

“Oh my.” Selina inched closer on the settee. “You mean to tell me that Captain Rourke pretended to be his brother? To what purpose?”

“So that he did not lose the chance to court you.”

“Good heavens.” Selina lifted a hand and twisted the pendant at her throat. “I truly had no notion he was that keen.” She tipped her head. “When did you know it wasn’t Windham?”

“I suspected there was something odd almost at once, but he only confessed it three nights ago. Before he left London.”

Selina reached for Daphne’s hand again, but this time, she kept a gentle hold on it. “So, Captain Cassian Rourke fancies you .”

“Not enough to keep him in London.” Daphne shook her head. “I wouldn’t have wanted him to stay. He lied and lied. For days.”

“On behalf of his brother.” Selina laughed softly.

“Windham did seem to see life as a performance. Why not let someone else take his part?” One brow arched high.

“The more curious bit is that a naval captain would be willing to do it.” Lifting one finger, she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s common among twins.”

“Marigold and Hyacinth have swapped places at times to see if anyone can tell,” Daphne admitted. “But they’re ten. He has no such defense.”

“You’re angry with him.”

“Of course, I am. He lied to me.” Somehow, she didn’t sound nearly as indignant about that fact as she should be.

“He did, but do you care for him?”

“That doesn’t matter now.” Daphne scoffed. “He’s gone.”

And yet she hadn’t stopped thinking about the man for more than hour since she’d last seen his face. She told herself it was anger that made her call him to mind again and again. But over the past days, her thoughts had felt less like anger and more like longing.

Selina observed her silently. “Do you know where he went?”

“Yes, to Berkshire. To tell Windham about your engagement.”

“You could write to him.”

“Why would I?” Daphne had felt the finality of their parting. He wouldn’t wish to hear from her. She couldn’t even imagine how a letter might begin. “I have nothing to say.”

Selina clasped her hand, then released it. “Whatever you decide, I shall support you. And Matthew will too.”

Daphne laughed at how easily Selina volunteered her future husband for any endeavor she might undertake. That was how marriage should be. A true partnership. But the foundation of such a union would need to be built on trust.

Selina settled back against the cushions and took up her teacup again. Daphne felt her assessing gaze. “Tell me one thing, my dear.”

“Yes?”

“How many times in the last three days have you thought of him?”

Daphne crossed her arms as if she could keep her secret rumination to herself. “A few,” she said lightly.

Selina’s smile turned mischievous. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because I’m terrible liar, unlike all the men who show the slightest interest in me.”

They both laughed.

“I do hope he comes back to London. I should like to meet Captain Cassian Rourke when he’s not pretending to be someone else.”

He wouldn’t. Daphne had felt it in that final goodbye. He never intended to see her again. Now it was only a matter of accepting that truth.

The soil gave way easily beneath Cassian’s fingertips. The irony was that in leaving the garden beds their mother had planted untouched and overgrown, the plants had turned to compost, making the soil rich.

Julian took after their father in that he didn’t give a damn about maintaining the gardens or the conservatory their mother had adored.

It had been built by his grandmother when she was dowager countess, constructed in a spot about a hundred yards away from the main manor house.

Cassian suspected his mother had relished that distance from their father as much as the flowers she tended so lovingly.

Often more lovingly, in fact, than she’d tended to her sons.

Their father hadn’t allowed her to dote.

All of her attempts were met with the earl’s rage and, when that did not intimidate sufficiently, his violence.

Julian, in particular, was kept from their mother. Their father claimed too much time with Mama would make him soft and girlish. The miracle was that Julian had grown into a jovial, kind man despite the damage their father had inflicted.

He’d taken the news of Selina’s engagement hard for all of two days. Then it was as if his optimistic nature could no longer linger in grief and regret. He’d begun to laugh and recommitted himself to learning to amble around efficiently on his crutches.

He’d also asked Cassian to stay in Berkshire a while before returning to Scotland.

And, of course, Cassian had agreed—not only did he not wish Julian to convalesce alone, but he carried a new weight of guilt, a sense of debt to his brother. If remaining in the English countryside would alleviate that, he’d remain.