esteemed guest.” She assumed her station in the entryway and noted the empty positions to her immediate right. “Where are my brothers?”
“I am not sure, Miss Daphne.” With a mighty frown, Hicks shook his head and twisted the latch. “They have disappeared.”
“What do you mean?” With her shoulders rolled back, she lifted her chin and stiffened her spine. “Are they or are they not in residence?”
“I have no idea, Miss Daphne.” Hicks set wide the oak panel and stood at attention, just as the graceful equipage slowed to a halt. “When I entered their chambers, Richard and Robert were gone.”
“How dare they insult Sir Dalton, after all he has done for us? I shall have words with them, tonight.” As the oh-so-dashing sea captain descended the coach, she mustered a smile, although she lamented her appearance, in light of his unrivaled attire. “Mrs. Jones, could you please serve refreshments—”
“I have taken the liberty of arranging a bottle of wine, some cheese, and bread in the back parlor,” Hicks said, in a low voice. “Sir Dalton, may I take your coat and gloves?”
“Thank you, Hicks.” And then she met her unwitting champion’s gaze, which softened whenever he met her stare. “Good evening, Sir Dalton.”
“Miss Daphne.” As usual, he studied her from top to toe, before taking her hand in his to place a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “I swear you grow more beautiful with each passing day.”
“How is it you always know what to say to give me shivers?” Realizing, too late, what she had just declared aloud, she winced and bit her tongue. Had she not always spoken her mind? Yet never had she considered it a curse—until now. “I had not intended to share that bit of information.”
“Somehow I guessed that.” The incorrigible sailor chuckled and winked. “But let us explore your unutterably charming revelation, perhaps, in your drawing room, as we await dinner?”
“Actually, I had thought we might adjourn to the back parlor, as it is more cozy.” And Courtenay Hall no longer included a serviceable drawing room, but she would divulge that regrettable fact over her dead body. So she endeavored to persevere, as she accepted his proffered escort. “Shall we?”
“I see you received my flowers.” Sir Dalton arched a brow. “Do they please you, Miss Daphne?”
“You know they do, and thank you.” Although Hicks and Mrs. Jones kept the wood paneling and trim polished to a high shine, Daphne wished her refined visitor would not notice the once vivid but now faded and outdated Chintz-style woodblock wallpaper or the tattered Oriental hall rugs. But she had moved the best furnishings that remained in the home to the back parlor, and Daphne and Mrs. Jones had taken the newest drapes and carpets from a long unused guestroom to complete a renovation, of sorts. As they entered the relaxed chamber, she ushered Sir Dalton to the chaise . “May I pour you a glass of wine?”
“Only if you join me.” After resituating some pillows, he sat. “And what news have you of the brooch?”
“I wondered if you had considered an alternate conclusion to the quest for the missing jewelry.” With a courage-bolstering gulp of wine, she perched on the edge of a chair. “Are you certain you did not misplace the pin? Could it not be lost in your cabin?”
“I have made a thorough inspection of my quarters, and the heirloom is gone.” He narrowed his stare. “And you gave me the impression you knew the location of the artifact, as well as the identity of the thief. Are you changing your story, my dear?”
“I beg your pardon? I have made polite inquiries, and I may or may not know the location of the missing item, but your threat to summon the authorities could complicate matters. And if I am to—” It was then she discovered Sir Dalton’s dimpled grin. “You deliberately baited me.”
“I did.” He snickered.
“But, why?” Inwardly cursing herself, she sought distraction
“I am not sure, Miss Daphne.” With a mighty frown, Hicks shook his head and twisted the latch. “They have disappeared.”
“What do you mean?” With her shoulders rolled back, she lifted her chin and stiffened her spine. “Are they or are they not in residence?”
“I have no idea, Miss Daphne.” Hicks set wide the oak panel and stood at attention, just as the graceful equipage slowed to a halt. “When I entered their chambers, Richard and Robert were gone.”
“How dare they insult Sir Dalton, after all he has done for us? I shall have words with them, tonight.” As the oh-so-dashing sea captain descended the coach, she mustered a smile, although she lamented her appearance, in light of his unrivaled attire. “Mrs. Jones, could you please serve refreshments—”
“I have taken the liberty of arranging a bottle of wine, some cheese, and bread in the back parlor,” Hicks said, in a low voice. “Sir Dalton, may I take your coat and gloves?”
“Thank you, Hicks.” And then she met her unwitting champion’s gaze, which softened whenever he met her stare. “Good evening, Sir Dalton.”
“Miss Daphne.” As usual, he studied her from top to toe, before taking her hand in his to place a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “I swear you grow more beautiful with each passing day.”
“How is it you always know what to say to give me shivers?” Realizing, too late, what she had just declared aloud, she winced and bit her tongue. Had she not always spoken her mind? Yet never had she considered it a curse—until now. “I had not intended to share that bit of information.”
“Somehow I guessed that.” The incorrigible sailor chuckled and winked. “But let us explore your unutterably charming revelation, perhaps, in your drawing room, as we await dinner?”
“Actually, I had thought we might adjourn to the back parlor, as it is more cozy.” And Courtenay Hall no longer included a serviceable drawing room, but she would divulge that regrettable fact over her dead body. So she endeavored to persevere, as she accepted his proffered escort. “Shall we?”
“I see you received my flowers.” Sir Dalton arched a brow. “Do they please you, Miss Daphne?”
“You know they do, and thank you.” Although Hicks and Mrs. Jones kept the wood paneling and trim polished to a high shine, Daphne wished her refined visitor would not notice the once vivid but now faded and outdated Chintz-style woodblock wallpaper or the tattered Oriental hall rugs. But she had moved the best furnishings that remained in the home to the back parlor, and Daphne and Mrs. Jones had taken the newest drapes and carpets from a long unused guestroom to complete a renovation, of sorts. As they entered the relaxed chamber, she ushered Sir Dalton to the chaise . “May I pour you a glass of wine?”
“Only if you join me.” After resituating some pillows, he sat. “And what news have you of the brooch?”
“I wondered if you had considered an alternate conclusion to the quest for the missing jewelry.” With a courage-bolstering gulp of wine, she perched on the edge of a chair. “Are you certain you did not misplace the pin? Could it not be lost in your cabin?”
“I have made a thorough inspection of my quarters, and the heirloom is gone.” He narrowed his stare. “And you gave me the impression you knew the location of the artifact, as well as the identity of the thief. Are you changing your story, my dear?”
“I beg your pardon? I have made polite inquiries, and I may or may not know the location of the missing item, but your threat to summon the authorities could complicate matters. And if I am to—” It was then she discovered Sir Dalton’s dimpled grin. “You deliberately baited me.”
“I did.” He snickered.
“But, why?” Inwardly cursing herself, she sought distraction
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