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Authors: Lily Dalton

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“It seems I’ve been played for a fool.” He looked at her everywhere, his gray eyes
raking over her stylish hat and fashion-plate perfect spring dress, with their gleaming
ribbons and expensive lace, with such heat she feared they would burn right off her
body.

“No,” she answered, gripping her parasol in both hands, wishing she could use it to
shield herself from his anger. But she wouldn’t hide from Cormack. “That’s not true.”

“Obviously the other night was just some game to you? A spoiled girl out for a wild
adventure on the wrong side of London, perhaps on a dare from one of your equally
vapid friends, to pretend to be someone you aren’t?”

“Cormack, please listen—”

“Don’t say my name like that, as if we know one another. Do you know what could have
happened?” His gloved hands became fists. “Do you know what that man could have done
to you if I hadn’t been there to stop him?”

Wanting nothing but to make the coldness in his eyes disappear, she took two steps
closer. “Yes, and I—”

“You, or Kate Fickett?” He spat the words. “Do you even know anyone by that name,
or did Bynum just run with the information I provided to him and play me for a bigger
fool?” He blinked, smiling, but the smile wasn’t the same as before. This one was
sharp as a knife and frightening. “Or perhaps you were in on it with him. Yes, perhaps
that’s it. You got yourself in trouble borrowing money from a dangerous man to buy
some bauble in a Bond Street shop that your grandpapa refused you, and had to lure
in some gullible fool to cover for it?”

“No,” she gasped, horrified by his accusations. “None of that is true, you must know
it is not, but, Cormack, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t believe you.”

His rejection stung, like a slap to the face. “Then don’t believe me. I can’t force
you to listen.”

“What is your name?” he growled, his teeth clenched, taking one step toward her. “Your
real
name?”

Who was this man, saying such cruel things to her? Not the man who had saved her life,
and kissed her so sweetly.

“Why ask?” she exclaimed, bristling. “Do you propose now to actually allow me to answer
one of your questions?”

“Bloody hell,
tell me
,” he demanded, storming toward her.

Her mouth opened, and her lips worked, but she…
couldn’t

“Don’t deny me, else I’ll go ask one of them.” He jerked his head in the direction
of the carriages.

“Daphne Bevington,” she blurted, forcing herself to remain rooted to the spot.

His face went blank for a moment, and he searched the grass, as if trying to remember
something. “The Earl of Wolverton’s granddaughter. The papers this morning declared
you the season’s Incomparable, along with your younger sister.”

“So I’ve been told,” she said coldly.

He remained quiet for a long moment. “So it seems I’ve the power to destroy you.”

“You wouldn’t,” she insisted.

“I might.”

“For what reason?” she cried, hating him in this moment, and wishing more than anything
she had never met him at all.

“Miss Bevington?” called a male voice, one she recognized. “Is everything all right?”

Cormack said nothing, his eyes staring back at her like smoked glass.

“Don’t,” she whispered. His gaze shifted to a place beyond her shoulder.
“Please.”

She turned to find Havering crossing the grass on long athletic legs, accompanied
by Lord Rackmorton, who stared at Cormack with burning black eyes. To make matters
worse, her cousin, Mr. Kincraig, followed behind, his eyes tellingly bleary and his
cravat a painfully jumbled affair.

She threw a pleading glance to Cormack. His gray eyes, shielded by the brim of his
hat and unseen by anyone else in that moment, held hers with heart-stopping intensity.
In that moment Daphne could only hear the sound of her blood pulsing inside her head,
fueled by the understanding that he could shatter her future, and her family’s future,
with just a few explosive words.

“All is well,” she answered in a light tone. “I lost my parasol to the wind, and this
gentleman was kind enough to capture it for me.”

“Indeed, the wind is frightful today,” Fox answered, pointedly glancing toward the
trees, whose leaves were utterly still, because of course, there was no wind. Beneath
the brim of his hat, she saw one of his eyebrows arch up.

Rackmorton came to stand beside her. “I believe your sister is looking for you.” He
scrutinized Cormack, his expression haughty and dismissive. “And I’m sorry, but I
don’t believe I know you. Miss Bevington, could you do me the honor of introducing
us?”

“We…barely had time to speak two words to one another. I’m afraid I’ve not been properly
introduced, either,” Daphne answered without inflection. “He is…a stranger to me.
I’m afraid I don’t even know his name.”

Cormack’s gaze, which remained fixed on hers, went flat.

“Ah,” said Rackmorton, his eyes narrowing on the outsider in their midst, one who
stood a head taller than he. “But I
do
recognize you from somewhere.”

“Oh?” answered Cormack, his tone cool.

He did not appear the least bit intimidated. Indeed, he mirrored Rackmorton’s arrogant
stance, and matched the sharpness of his gaze unblinkingly.

Rackmorton crossed his arms over his chest, and planted the heels of his glossy leather
shoes far apart. “From Tattersalls. Two days ago, you purchased that beautiful animal
right out from under me.”

Cormack tilted his head, a wicked glint in his eye. “Did I? I hope there are no hard
feelings.”

“Well, of course there are.” Rackmorton laughed, but there was still a distinct undercurrent
of tension in his voice and manner.

Fox smiled, peering between the two of them as if amused. “A handsome animal.”

“Indeed,” agreed Kincraig blandly, looking bored to death.

“I take my stable very seriously, but so must you,” said Rackmorton, his gaze settling
on the gelding with unabashed longing. “May I…have another look at him?”

“Certainly.”

And just like that, the men converged, thick as thieves in their fine top hats and
great coats, to stand in the shadow of Cormack’s magnificent bay. Forgotten, Daphne
backed away, the sound of their introductions filling her ears.

“—Rackmorton, of Cornwall. Did we go to school together?”

“I’m certain we did not,” said Cormack.

Of course not. Because he wasn’t one of them, as they’d soon discover. While he might
be wealthy, and the perfect man with whom to discuss horse pedigrees, as a merchant
tradesman rather than a titled gentleman he wasn’t someone they’d invite into their
libraries for port and cigars. That was rather a closed club. She sighed miserably,
her heart bruised and her romantic feelings for Cormack destroyed. He’d reacted so
unfairly, and with such disdain.

But that wasn’t completely true. She’d glimpsed something in his eyes, hidden behind
that frightful hardness, that confessed her deception had hurt him.

“…and this deuced ugly fellow is Havering…”

“And I am Mr. Kincraig, Miss Bevington’s cousin, the young lady whose parasol you
so gallantly rescued from this afternoon’s terrifying windstorm.”

Mr. Kincraig! Her throat closed on a furious scream. At least Fox hadn’t called her
out for her untruth.

Just then, two dark streaks dashed past her, Lady Castlereagh’s mastiffs, trailing
their leashes.

“Oh!” she cried, filled with a sudden terror that the bay would startle and rear up—

But a sharp command from Cormack slowed them in their tracks, until they crouched
low to the grass and approached him, their canine mouths grinning wide, for a pat
on the head. Daphne exhaled shakily, relieved. Taking up their leashes he walked the
dogs toward her, and held out the leads.

Her heart jumped at his nearness. She examined his face, searching for some sign that
the ice inside him had melted, but his gaze remained cold.

“Would you mind, Miss Bevington?” he said with an edge of dismissiveness. “You were
leaving anyway, were you not?”

She glared back at him and snatched the two leashes, having been effectively dismissed.
But she didn’t want to leave. She didn’t trust him alone with them. His shoulders
blocked the gentlemen’s view of her.

Beneath her breath she demanded of him, “What are you going to do? What are you going
to say?”

“Don’t expect me to settle your mind or your conscience,” he murmured. “I’m not inclined
to do either just yet.”

Had those same lips once kissed her? She could hardly believe it, when now, they only
spilled the vilest of words.

He turned on his heel. “Gentlemen, I believe our introductions were interrupted before
they were finished.”

Daphne turned from them and allowed the dogs to tug her away by their leashes. Cormack
had the power to destroy her. But would he do so? She wanted to believe she knew him,
and that even after the ugly exchange that had just occurred between them, she could
trust that he would not. Perhaps, even if he chose to expose her secret, they wouldn’t
believe him anyway, and it would go no further.

He was, after all, a saltpeter tradesman.

And if he dared claim to have seen Daphne Bevington running wild on the seedy side
of town?

She exhaled a sigh of cautious release. Even she had to say such a claim would sound
far-fetched, and something that clearly fit an instance of mistaken identity. He wasn’t
a member of the
ton
, and as such, his allegation would be met with immediate suspicion.

“I am Lord Raikes,” she heard Cormack say. “How pleased I am to make all of your acquaintances.”

*  *  *

Hours later, when the house was dark and quiet, Daphne sat beside Kate in her grandfather’s
study, a lantern set on the table between them.

“He told me he was a saltpeter merchant, but you can see the truth right there in
black and white.”

Kate lowered the latest copy of
Debrett’s Peerage
to her lap. “He is an earl! What a charade the two of you have put on for one another.
It is like something out of one of those romantic novels.”

“Only it isn’t romantic,” Daphne said morosely. “Or funny. Really, Kate, how can you
smile at a time like this?”

Kate patted her arm. “I wasn’t smiling because I thought it was funny, but because
I wanted make you feel better.”

“I know you were, and I’m sorry for being snappish.” Daphne sighed. “It’s just that
after everything that happened, I took great comfort in believing our paths would
never cross again.”

“You are certain he’s the only other person that knows about the Blue Swan?”

“I think so.” Daphne pressed her hands to her eyes. “If only it was just
my
reputation in peril! But my family’s good name and Clarissa’s future hang in the
balance.”

“You always worry about everyone but yourself. I think…I think you are still trying
to—”

“Don’t say it.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to say I’m still trying to make up for that day in the country, when
my father died.”

Kate peered at her, and softly said, “Aren’t you?”

“I suppose.” She closed her eyes against a sudden rush of tears. “Shouldn’t I? It
was my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Kate assured her, as she had done countless times before.

“Go on and tell me the reasons why, just like everyone else does.” Memories crowded
her mind, painful and sweet. “‘Animals are unpredictable. No one could have known
your horse would startle and rear up like that.’ But, Kate, if I hadn’t acted like
a spoiled child and refused to ride in, if I hadn’t been showing off, my father wouldn’t
have had to come to get me.”

She had taken her father away from all those who loved him, and she would spend the
rest of her life trying to atone for having done so.

Kate sighed. “Another day, another moment, and things would have turned out differently.
You can’t blame yourself.”

But she did. And now she had failed them again. It was too much, given all that had
occurred over the past several days, and this afternoon’s confrontation with Cormack.
“Let’s not talk about it anymore.”

Kate studied her. “Very well. But you know if you ever would like to talk, I am here.”

“You know how much my family means to me,” she said. “Lord Raikes has the power to
destroy it all. Haven’t I caused them enough pain for one lifetime? I feel so guilty
for exposing them to possible scandal. Not just a scandal. It would be the scandal
of the decade.”

“I am just as responsible. You were there at the Blue Swan to help me.”

“No, Kate, it was all my own doing—”

Kate shook her head. “But even if he’s angry, I can’t believe that he would ever hurt
you.”

“You act as if you know him.”

A little smile curved her lips. “Well, he did send me some very nice roses.”

Daphne scowled at her. “You’re trying to make me laugh again, but it’s not going to
work.”

“I thought you said you loved my facetiousness.” She reached to squeeze her hand.
“Poor Daphne.”

“You should have seen him. He was so angry with me. The nerve of him, when I have
every right to be just as angry with him.”

“Unfortunately, no one cares if an earl goes to the Blue Swan.”

“I thought you were trying to make me feel better.”

“I’m sorry, Daphne.” Kate stood from her chair, and slid the volume into its place
on the bookcase. “It’s very late. Why don’t we get you into bed? You’ll feel better
in the morning, I vow.”

“You go on. I’m going to stay here and read for a little while.”

“Are you certain?”

“I am. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Very well,” Kate said reluctantly, moving toward the door. “Good night, then.”

After she was gone, Daphne dimmed the lantern and went to the window, finding it difficult
to believe what had taken place below it just three nights before. She’d thought the
moment was so magical. That she’d carry those memories with her forever. Now she wanted
nothing more than to forget them.

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