Once Upon a Dreamy Match: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 12

  Captain Fairbank nodded his agreement. “And what of your family?”

  At the mention of the word, Lady Vivian looked up at Daphne. She did not interject but halted her own conversation in order to hear what Daphne would say. She met Daphne’s eye, tilting her head ever so slightly as if to say, “Go on”.

  Daphne cleared her throat. “My father was a sugar merchant for many years. As a result of his travels he was absent for much of my childhood, but he always brought home incredible stories. He made a decent living, as well.”

  This seemed to be the cue that Lady Vivian was waiting for. “Mr. Blanton has been a good friend of my family for many years. He is actually attending London with us this season. Since he has announced his retirement, he is looking to share some of his investments.”

  She should have known this would have been brought up, but Daphne did not really want to discuss her father. The subject was tenuous, and there was only so much she could share about her father before the conversation would inadvertently turn to the current goings-on. Lady Vivian had hijacked Daphne and Captain Fairbank’s conversation and was now sharing the details of Mr. Blanton’s financial situation with Lady Fairbank, who was listening intently.

  Daphne resigned herself to eat her dinner in silence until the Captain refilled her glass with a second wine.

  “You look as though you might want this,” he murmured, too softly for the ladies across the table to hear.

  Daphne had to laugh despite herself. “You’re a gracious man, Captain.”

  “I was wondering, Miss Blanton, since you have many more balls to attend and I have yet to arrange to attend a single one, if you would allow me to escort you to the next one?”

  The question was asked so simply, so plainly, that it caught Daphne entirely unaware. He wanted to escort her? He wanted to be her escort? This dashing and tall captain had expressed an interest to attend a ball with her?

  She almost wanted to ask if he was sure, but did not know what kind of picture that sort of ridiculous question would paint of her.

  “Yes, Captain Fairbank,” she finally said. “It would be an honour.”

  He smiled at her, warm and genuine. “It would be my honour, Miss Blanton.”

  Something in the way he looked at her then, the smile that existed not just on his lips but extended to his deep brown eyes, reminded her of Benedict. Daphne’s breath hitched unconsciously, and she had to look away. But it was too late – the thoughts were already flooding through her mind. Benedict had not asked to escort her to a ball, not once. The subject had never even been brought up amongst them. Of course, she knew what the implication of such a question was, and perhaps it was silly to think that Benedict would ask to escort her.

  After everything he had done for her and her family, especially her father, and even choreographing this entire trip to London to ensure that she could attend the city for the season, and she still expected Benedict to ask her to be his escort? She asked too much of him. He may be her dear friend, and he was always ready to help even without being prompted, but Daphne knew that she was relying too much on her friend. She had been placing undue pressure on his shoulders, and her motivations for doing so were cloudy.

  So she smiled at Captain Fairbank and knew that she was happy, happy to have been asked by this respectable and handsome man. Just because he reminded her of Benedict did not mean that she should be discouraged or confused, surely? They were different people, and she was only just getting to know him. She should be excited at the prospect of what might be to come with this newfound friendship.

  “What of your father?” Daphne asked the Captain then. He paused suddenly, and for a moment Daphne feared she had broached an improper subject.

  “My father has, unfortunately, passed away. Some two years he has been gone now.”

  The likenesses to Benedict did not seem to end in just their demeanour, apparently.

  “Oh, I am so sorry Captain,” Daphne replied earnestly. Why did she have to ask that question? She should have just asked for more information about military fashions.

  “It is quite alright,” Captain Fairbank said. He must have sensed that Daphne was uncomfortable by his response, for he seemed to make an effort to soothe her. “To be perfectly honest, I did not know the man very well. He was quite estranged for most of my childhood. He was a brutish man. He was a Captain as well. I suppose it is in my blood.”

  Daphne calmed at this. “Well,” she said with a sigh, “I do not believe that the brutish nature is part of your blood as well. I have found you to be entirely genteel.”

  “And I am glad to hear it,” the Captain replied. “I seemed to have done a swell job at fooling you if that is the case.”

  Daphne giggled at his jest. “I happen to be a quite a good judge of character, Captain Fairbank.”

  “Just one of your many positive attributes I assume, Miss Blanton.”

  Yes, it was definitely a good thing that she would be escorted to the next ball by Captain Fairbank. Not only was he a man of good standing and respectable nature, it would be of benefit to Daphne to be seen in public with someone new. It would increase her desirability, to be sure. Especially after the length of time she spent with Benedict yesterday, she knew that it would only be to her detriment to continue along with only him. Comfortable as Benedict was, she was decided that the Captain could be equally so.

  “Tell me, Miss Blanton,” Lady Fairbank said, meeting her eyes from across the table. “What sort of activities do you busy yourself with out in Hedingham?”

  Daphne considered for a moment before replying, “I do enjoy the piano forte. My mother introduced me to a passion for music as a girl, and I have been practicing it since.”

  “Lovely!” Lady Fairbank declared. “Oh, you will play for us some time, won’t you? I am afraid that there is no one in this household who is musically-inclined, and I do love the sound of a well-played piano forte.”

  Daphne beamed. “I would be delighted to.”

  “Miss Blanton is also quite the florist,” Lady Vivian offered. “She has a lovely garden that she tends to and has an eye for spectacular bouquets.”

  “Is that so?” Captain Fairbank looked about the room. “I think the floral decorations here could use a renewal, if you ever had the time or want?”

  “I do love flowers,” Daphne replied, a little sheepishly. “If you are ever in need of an unofficial florist, I am at your disposal.”

  “I miss the great gardens of Hedingham,” Lady Fairbank declared and turned to Lady Vivian. “We used to walk them for hours, just gossiping. The hedges were always so neatly trimmed. The sky is far more blue in the country, and the stars always shine that much brighter.”

  “How long has it been since you have visited, Lady Fairbank?” Daphne asked. The Lady’s affections for greenery were a far cry from the opinion that Lady Parker spoke of last night. It was refreshing, and relieving, to see someone share her same passion for the beautiful outdoors.

  Lady Fairbank smiled a melancholy smile. “Far too long, I am afraid. Business has kept my mind in the city, but it is the country that has my heart. Raising my son and keeping the house has been my full-time occupation for so many years.”

  “I am a grown man now, mother,” Captain Fairbank said. “I am no longer in need of rearing; you have done a wonderful job.”

  “Hear hear,” Lady Vivian declared, raising her glass to the Captain. “I must insist that you pay Hedingham a visit soon, my dear Angelica. We can walk the gardens once more.”

  “I would love to,” Lady Fairbank said. “Perhaps we shall arrange for something soon. I am sure I can leave the household for just a few days.”

  Daphne looked at Lady Fairbank then – truly looked at her. Here was a woman who radiated kindness and passion, who adored the countryside and felt more at home amongst pastures than pavements. She was clearly a woman who could take charge of a household, and enjoyed doing so.

  With her age and experience, she had a count
enance that was peaceful and pleasant – not to mention lovely taste in furnishings. This was the kind of woman that would be a good match for her father. Equally passionate, vibrant, of similar age and life’s experiences. She was calm and good-natured where he was exuberant and excitable. She would temper his emotions as he would encourage hers.

  “Will yourself and Captain Fairbank be attending the ball?” Daphne asked.

  Lady Vivian clapped her hands together. “Oh, you must! It will be our first time hosting a ball this season, and we are most excited.”

  Lady Fairbank looked to her son, who looked at Daphne, and then to Lady Vivian, and nodded enthusiastically. “I would certainly enjoy that. It will be my first of the season. Mother?”

  “I would be delighted!” Lady Fairbank declared. “Oh, Vivian, it will be as if we are living out our youth again, except this time we will be looking proudly onwards.”

  “Well then, it is settled. The next time we meet, it is I who will be hosting.” Lady Vivian roused a cheer. “Oh, I am so looking to it!”

  The rest of the dinner went also perfectly, and by the end Daphne found herself stuffed on good food and wine and buzzing with the exhilaration of new friends and great company. She and Lady Vivian would be returning to the Gildons' London home, and she found herself beyond excited for the ball that they would be hosting soon. Captain and Lady Fairbank saw them off at the door.

  Lady Vivian and Lady Fairbank exchanged passionate goodbyes before Lady Fairbank turned to Daphne.

  “Thank you so much for dinner, Lady Fairbank,” Daphne said with a curtsy. “It was truly wonderful.”

  “You are a delightful young lady, Miss Blanton,” Lady Fairbank replied. “I do hope to hear you play for me some time soon.”

  “Of course!” She bid her hostess goodnight.

  Following Lady Vivian down to the carriage, she found that the Captain had already positioned himself by the door. He helped Lady Vivian ascend first, then looked to Daphne.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Blanton,” Captain Fairbank said, bowing low again. “I am very much looking forward to seeing you soon.”

  “Likewise, Captain Fairbank,” Daphne said, smiling like an excited child. “I am grateful that I will have such a distinguished escort.”

  “You jest!” he declared, taking her hand into his. “You think so highly of me, and I am enjoying it far too much.” He helped her step into the carriage. Did Daphne imagine it, or did he linger just a while with her hand in his? Before she could think too long, he released it, and waved them off into the night.

  The entire journey home was filled with merriness, with each woman grateful for the presence of the other.

  “You did very well tonight, Daphne. I am so proud to be your chaperone. It seems that Captain and Lady Fairbank are quite taken by you.”

  “And I with them,” Daphne replied honestly.

  “Captain Fairbank is quite the man, isn’t he?” Lady Vivian said after a moment. A knowing smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

  Daphne was grateful that the darkness helped to hide her flush. “He is excellent conversation.”

  Lady Vivian scoffed. “Conversation, certainly. He is a well-educated and well-bred young man. I have known the family for years and he has always been a most even-tempered and good-natured boy. Since he has grown, he has truly come into his own: a Captain, and a handsome one at that. Don’t you agree?”

  Daphne just nodded, too meek to speak. Her chaperone was right, of course. It could not be denied that the Captain had fine looks to match his fine personality.

  “I hope that we will become good friends,” was all she felt comfortable enough to say. She had no doubt that whatever words she spoke of the Captain would eventually get back to him, by proxy of his mother.

  The carriage finally came to a halt outside the Gildons' London residence. Though similar in style to the Fairbanks', the Gildon home was notably larger and grander about the entrance, with a private driveway off from the street. Lady Vivian and Daphne stepped down together and continued recalling the night’s events up until they made it to the front of the home. It became immediately apparent that something was awry, for Mr. Blanton was out by the front door and surrounded by uniformed officers.

  Lady Vivian took up a stance in an instant. “What is the meaning of all this?”

  The officers turned. One of them was holding Mr. Blanton by his arm. Daphne wanted to rush to her father and pry the man’s hand off his jacket sleeve, but instead she secured herself to the ground. Something had gone wrong – her father’s expression was visible from across the dark space between them. He looked guilty.

  “This man claims to be staying at this residence,” one of the officers said sharply.

  “That is the truth,” Lady Vivian replied with equal bite. “He is my guest, and I would appreciate it very much if you would release him.”

  Hesitantly, the officer did so. Mr. Blanton shook out his arm and retreated a few steps. He was wobbling on his feet, and Daphne realised with stark horror that he was drunk. She stayed rooted to the ground.

  “We removed this man from the residence of one Baron Townsend. The Baron claimed that this man –“ he pointed to Mr. Blanton, whose knees knocked together “- stormed into his home, assaulted his butler, and demanded that his stolen jewellery be returned.” The officer paused long enough to sneer at Mr. Blanton. “What a gentleman needs jewellery for is a mystery.”

  “They were my wife’s, you milkmaid!” Mr. Blanton hollered, teetering where he stood. His words were thick. Daphne took an unconscious step forward as the sound of his voice broke her footing.

  “He interrupted a private soirée. It was lucky that Baron Townsend happened to have us officers in attendance; apparently he anticipated some kind of interruption.”

  Lady Vivian turned to Daphne. “Do you have any idea why your father would seek out Baron Townsend?”

  “Yes,” Daphne bitterly replied. She walked up to join her by the officers. “It is where Roberta is staying.”

  Lady Vivian blinked. “The second Mrs. Blanton is staying in the residence of Baron Townsend?”

  Mr. Blanton wailed, clinging to the pillar of the house’s facade. Daphne just nodded.

  Lady Vivian stiffened and snatched Mr. Blanton’s arm up. She yanked him to her side. “Thank you, officers, for returning him to me. Make no mistake that he will be reprimanded for his actions.” Mr. Blanton was resigned to a small, disagreeable child. He tried fruitlessly to pry Lady Vivian’s fingers from his arm, but the woman’s hand was secured hard as a dog’s jaws.

  “Come along, Daphne.”

  Daphne brushed past the officers without a word and followed Lady Vivian into the house. The Gildons' butler shut the door immediately. Once inside, Lady Vivian finally released Daphne’s sobbing father.

  “I am so sorry!” he cried. “I just wanted–“

  “I have no cares for what you wanted, Walter,” Lady Vivian snapped. “Do you realise what you have done?”

  Daphne did. Not only had her father broken into the home of a Baron, but he had done so in a public setting, during a soirée, no less! The word of Mr. Walter Blanton’s desperation and impropriety would already be the gossip of London. Not only did his second wife leave him for the company of Baron Townsend, but the old man had chased her all the way to London and cried her a thief. That latter was true, of course, but that did not give her father any right to approach Baron Townsend or Roberta in such a way.