Free Andrea Kane by Last Duke Page B

could she help him? What more could she do for the ill and the needy?
    Would he ever come to her again?
    That possibility made her heart pound frantically. He’d seemed to like her, even seemed pleased by her cooperation. His eyes—the only unconcealed part of him—had spoken volumes, as had his carefully disguised rasp. And, at that moment, she would have gone anywhere, dared anything he asked of her.
    If only he’d asked.
    “This is an outrage! Find that bandit, whoever the hell he is, and do away with him.”
    Daphne cringed, pressing her palms over her ears to block out her father’s shouts. She’d have to go down and face him sometime, but right now she couldn’t bear it. Nor could she be a convincing enough liar, not only to act shocked and outraged, but to feign ignorance of the theft. It was easier to plead upset and remain in her room.
    Her mind resumed its wild racing.
    She could almost see the rejoicing that was doubtless taking place in the Leicester workhouse right now. Exactly where had the bandit left his tin cup? Who had discovered it? How much money had it contained? When would the details reach Tragmore so she might privately celebrate the bandit’s success? And, when the news did arrive, how on earth would she manage to repress her joy and convincingly console her father?
    What would he do to her if her efforts failed? What if he suspected the way she felt, or worse, what she’d done?
    A knock interrupted Daphne’s shuddering thought.
    “Yes?”
    “May I come in, dear?” Daphne’s mother opened the door and tentatively poked her head in.
    “Of course, Mama.” Drawing her knees up, Daphne patted the bed. “I thought you were with Father.”
    “No, your father is in his study with the magistrate.”
    “The magistrate!” Daphne paled. “I thought only the constable was here.”
    Her mother sighed, closing the door and crossing the room to sit beside her. “Harwick wasn’t satisfied with the constable’s efforts to recover our property. He demanded to see the magistrate. Unfortunately, I don’t think we know any more now than we did then.” Lowering her eyes, she fidgeted with the bedcovers.
    “Mama.” Daphne leaned forward, touching her mother’s hand. “Are you all right?”
    Nodding, Elizabeth squeezed Daphne’s fingers. “Your father’s anger appears to be directed only at the bandit and at those who cannot unearth him—at least for the moment.”
    Silence hung heavily between them.
    “You’re not fretting over your jewels, are you?” Daphne asked, knowing the answer but anxious to divert her mother’s line of thought.
    A sad smile touched Elizabeth’s lips. “Hardly. You know how little rings and brooches mean to me. The workhouses need food more than I need adornments. Although God help me if Harwick were to hear me say that.”
    “He won’t. But think, Mama. Think how many people our gems are going to help.” Daphne’s eyes glowed. “I only wish I’d had more to give him. As it is, I had naught but my pearls and my cameo, so—”
    “Give him?” Elizabeth cut in.
    Daphne’s mouth snapped shut.
    “Daphne.” Her mother’s expression had turned incredulous. “Did you see the bandit last night?”
    Feeling like a fly caught in a web, Daphne sought escape and found none. “Yes, I saw him,” she admitted reluctantly. “I gave him whatever aid I could. Then I sent him away so he wouldn’t be caught.”
    “Dear Lord.” Elizabeth’s thin hands were shaking. “If Harwick had an inkling—even the slightest hint—Daphne, have you any idea what he’d—”
    “Yes.” Daphne raised her chin proudly. “But it was worth the risk. I’d do it again.”
    For a fleeting instant, a hundred questions danced in Elizabeth’s eyes, and Daphne had a glimpse of the sparkling young woman who was no longer. Then, just as quickly, shutters of fear descended, blanketing the curiosity with years of instilled submission. “I don’t want to hear any more.” Nervously,