Never to Part by Joan Vincent Page A

for dinner,” Lady Clandon ordered from the top of the stairs.
    All three young women hurried to do as bid.
    After washing up Daphne studied the contents of the wardrobe. The only stylish gown she had brought was the one she had worn that devastating evening at Heart Haven.
    “My luck is not such that the baron coming to supper would be the heartless one I have come to . . .” Daphne’s heart constricted. She could neither force the word hate out of her mouth nor bear to think of its opposite.
    With stern resolve she took the gown and pulled it over her head. Concentrate on what you must do after supper. After everyone has gone to bed .
    When the maid assigned her had finished buttoning her gown and hurried out to help the younger sister, Daphne re-examined the verse. She had ferreted out as much information on it as she could from the Clandons. ‘Morpheus’ arms’ must mean the mausoleum. Could the treasure be there? If only . She picked up her gloves and hurried to join the family in the salon.
    Sir Clandon turned to Miss Stratton when she entered.
    The smile Daphne gave him when she saw the approval in his eyes froze in place when she noticed the man to one side of the fireplace.
    “Miss Stratton,” Clandon boomed, “let me introduce Lord Dremore.
    “Miss Stratton’s a right good sort—friend of my daughter,” he told the baron.
    Richard’s bow was curt and stiff.
    Daphne dipped into the slightest curtsy possible.
    Clandon took Daphne by the arm and drew her between him and the baron. “You two have like interests,” he told her. “Lord Dremore was just asking me about the mausoleum at St. George. Built by his ancestor, as you know from our visit about it.”
    Daphne’s heart scudded to her throat. She did her best to maintain nonchalance in the face of this dire news. Have you grown tired of fleecing innocent lambs and are now bent on treasure? she wondered.
    Blazing with disapprobation Daphne glared at Richard and asked, “A recent interest, my lord?”
    When the baron seemed taken aback for a moment Daphne was startled. Could he possibly care for her good opinion? For a moment there was no one in the room but the two of them. The appearance of displeasure in his eyes answered her.
    “I am most anxious to hear about why you are interested in my family’s mausoleum.”
    “Ahh, our guests have come before times,” Lady Clandon said as she sailed into the room, daughters in tow. With a commanding general’s skill, she manoeuvred Amelia and Mary to either side of Richard. Miss Stratton she relegated to the vicar and last as they went to the dining room.
    Throughout the meal Daphne could feel Richard’s gaze on her. She was glad to escape it when the ladies withdrew to the salon. There she joined Amelia at the piano and happily consented to turn pages for her. In far too short a time the gentlemen joined them.
    Clandon entered at their head with Richard. To Daphne’s dismay he led the baron straight to the pianoforte.
    “Ahh, Miss Stratton, ‘haps you could let Dremore here turn the pages,” Clandon said. “Mary must find it dull going with only her mother and the vicar.”
    Daphne flashed the baron a false smile and nodded. When she walked past him he caught her elbow. Her heart lurched at his touch. Her senses reeled under the assault of that mixture of leather and bay rum and his unique scent that had haunted her since Heart Haven.
    “I will speak with you,” Richard said in an undertone, his mouth inches from her ear.
    The baron’s warm breath coursed a chill through Daphne that coalesced into heat. She dared neither to look at him nor to linger. Walking forward, Daphne called lightly, “Mary, let us play piquet.”
    “Have I been given the wrong impression, Miss Stratton?” Richard dryly called after her. “Aren’t games of chance your brother’s forte?”
    Daphne whirled to face him. Anger tinged her cheeks. “Look not to shear another sheep, my lord.”
    “Take that sentiment to