Love and Larceny by Regina Scott

they?”
    She could hear the smile in Wynn’s voice.
“That’s what you would do if you were a thief, I have no doubt. But
if he had started climbing, I suspect we’d see him hanging off the
stone, or crawling in through a window. Everything looks locked up
tight.”
    Daphne puffed out a breath as she turned back
to him. “Worse luck.”
    “It might have been a gardener,” he
suggested, smile gentle. “Or a groom hurrying back to the stables
after a meeting with a friendly maid.”
    “Perhaps,” she allowed. “Maybe we should take
a walk around the grounds, just to be certain.”
    “You will do no such thing.”
    At the sound of the familiar voice, Daphne
turned to find her mother standing in the doorway from the house.
Her arms were crossed over the chest of her burgundy gown, her
brows raised and mouth tight.
    “What are you thinking?” she demanded. “You
cannot traipse about the grounds at all hours of the night.”
    Since the moon was just rising beyond the
wood, Daphne knew it could not be so late. Certainly she’d stayed
out longer at balls in London. Why was her mother harping on that
string?
    “We saw someone out here,” Daphne told her.
“So naturally we had to investigate.”
    “Naturally,” her mother drawled. “And
naturally you had to bring Mr. Fairfax with you.”
    Who else? Honestly, her mother could be so
obtuse. And people considered Daphne dim!
    “I insisted on accompanying Miss Courdebas to
assist her,” Wynn offered.
    “How very gentlemanly,” her mother said.
“Particularly as that assistance involved being alone together in
the dark.”
    “Well, thieves do tend to strike at night,
Mother,” Daphne pointed out. “Have you never read a Gothic
novel?”
    “What I read is immaterial, young lady,” her
mother said, eyes flashing fire. “Your conduct is inexcusable. You
will retire to your room immediately.”
    Frustration curled up inside her like smoke.
“But Mother . . .”
    “And as for you, Mr. Fairfax,” her mother
continued as if Daphne had not spoken, “I advise you to watch your
step. We are odd man at table, and your presence is no longer
required.”
    Wynn blanched. Daphne’s frustration burst
into flames. How dare her mother imply that Wynn could be dispensed
with like a worn-out riding habit!
    “Mr. Fairfax’s company is very much needed,”
she told her mother, taking a step closer to Wynn. “He is kind and
sensible and a good friend to all.”
    “Such a good friend that he kissed you in
public and then arranged to be caught alone with you,” her mother
scolded. “Open your eyes, Daphne. Mr. Fairfax knows he cannot win
you, so he’s resorted to forcing you to marry him by ruining your
reputation.”
    Daphne frowned at Wynn, who could not seem to
meet her gaze. She knew she was often the last person to see the
evil in others, but surely her mother was wrong. Daphne had had to
convince Wynn to join her on this caper, just as she’d had to
convince him to come out onto the terrace. The only thing he had
instigated had been the kiss.
    Which truly had been marvelous.
    Wynn spoke now before she could, his voice
firm but gentle. “I would never do anything to harm your daughter,
Lady Rollings. I admire her too much.”
    “And yet I find you here together, with this
improbable tale of chasing a thief.” Her mother raised her head. “I
only wish Lord Rollings had come with us so that he could give you
the thrashing that you—”
    Daphne blinked, watching as her mother’s
mouth hung open, gaze fixed on the terrace beyond them. Whirling,
she saw a man sneaking past the lower steps. Torchlight glittered
on the barrel of a musket in his arms.
    “There!” Daphne cried, pointing. “Do you see
him? Come on, Wynn!”
    The man glanced up, eyes wide under his tweed
cap. Then he dashed off around the side of the stairs.
    Daphne started forward, but a noise behind
her made her spin around again.
    Just in time to see her mother collapse in
Wynn’s arms.
    *
    Wynn