Page 52 of Road Trip With a Rogue
“My decision to escort you has not been entirely motivated by altruism,” he drawled.
Daisy stared at him, incredulous.
“Peregrine Hughes is my nephew.”
“Your nephew,” she said levelly, somehow managing not to raise her voice to a screech.
“I’m afraid so. Marion, my elder sister, threw herself away on a mere Captain of the Guards, one Charles Hughes. Perry’s their only child. They spend most of their time at Carisbrooke Hall and rarely come to London, but a few months ago Perry was sent to stay with me for a little town bronze while his parents went on an extended tour of Italy.”
Daisy narrowed her eyes. “You were supposed to be looking after him, and he’s eloped with an heiress right under your nose.”
Vaughan’s lips curved. “Oh no. He eloped with an heiress with my full knowledge and consent. I’m the one who told him to do it.”
Fury was bubbling through her veins, but Daisy pushed it down, conscious of not making a scene in such a public place, even as she wanted to scream at him like a fishwife. Then fillet him like a fish.
“Why in God’s name have we been chasing them the length of England, then?” she hissed.
“Because as much as I love the boy, neither he nor Violet have the wits of a peahen. I wanted to make sure they arrived unscathed and actually managed to tie the knot.”
Perry and Violet were almost upon them, so Daisy pinned him with a look that promised violent and painful retribution and turned to the happy couple.
A grinning Perry shook hands with Vaughan, who clapped him on the shoulder, while Violet gave Daisy’s outfit a slightly confused look before she bobbed a curtsey.
“Hello again, Your Grace.” She smiled prettily at Vaughan. “We took your advice.” She held out her left hand to show them both the ring.
“Congratulations,” Vaughan said silkily. “I hope you’ll both be very happy.”
Perry glanced down at Daisy. Now that she saw the two men together, she could see a certain similarity. Perry was like a watered-down version of his uncle. Where Vaughan’s hair was almost black, Perry’s was a rusty brown, his eyes a warm hazel instead of a piercing dark coffee.
“And who’s this?” Perry asked with a friendly smile. “You’re definitely not Finch.”
Vaughan grinned. “May I present Lady Dorothea Hamilton.”
Unwilling to curtsey in her male attire, Daisy awkwardly held out her hand and Perry shook it. He sent her an intrigued look, then shot Vaughan a questioning glance, and her cheeks heated as she realized the conclusion he was drawing: that Vaughan had brought her along as his mistress to keep him entertained.
“Why aren’t you wearing a dress?” Violet asked, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Did you have an accident? Were your clothes stolen, or something dreadful like that?”
“I’m undercover,” Daisy said stiffly. “On behalf of the investigative agency King and Company. Your father hired me to prevent your marriage.”
Violet’s big blue eyes widened, and a regretful smile curved her pink lips. “Oh, poor Papa. He’s going to be dreadfully cross. But he’ll forgive me, I know he will. He always does.”
“Aren’t you worried he’ll cut you off?” Daisy asked. “Isn’t that what Robert Child, the banker, did to his daughter Sarah Ann when she eloped with the Earl of Westmorland? He cut her out of his will, and left all his money to her second son, or her eldest daughter, so that no one bearing the Westmorland title would ever see a penny of it.”
Violet gave a trill of laughter that sounded like tinkling bells. It made Daisy want to elbow her in the throat.
“Oh, no. Papa would never be so cruel. He dotes on me, you see. And the only reason he objected to Perry was because he thought he was a fortune hunter. Which isn’t true in the least, is it darling?”
“Certainly not,” Perry said, looking offended. “I might not have your vast inheritance, but with Uncle Lucien’s thousand pounds a year, we’ll be perfectly fine.”
Daisy turned and gaped at Lucien, but he merely bowed slightly to Violet.
“Don’t worry about your father, Violet. I’ll make it right with him when I get back to London.”
Violet’s ringlets bounced as she nodded earnestly. “Eloping is all the rage nowadays. The Duke of Wellington’s niece, Anne, married Charles Bentinck, brother to the Duke of Portland, here, you know.”
“And one should always strive to keep up with the latest fashions,” Daisy muttered. Her sarcasm was lost on everyone except Vaughan, who smothered a laugh behind a cough, but she was far too furious with him to feel any sort of kinship. The bastard had been lying to her fordays.
His meddling meant she’d have to admit her failure to Violet’s father. King & Co.’s reputation could be severely damaged if Brand started telling people about this disaster and her professional incompetence. Much of their custom was from word-of-mouth recommendations, so his dissatisfaction would not be a good advertisement.