Chapter Six

"W hatever is the matter, Danny?" someone asked.

Looking up from the book in her lap, Danny became aware she'd not only not read a single word of her book since coming out to the lake but had been here for an alarming amount of time if the darkening sky was any indication. Her lengthy visit to the lake the only reason her brother, Lord Donald Herbert Deime, would dare leave his rooms before sundown.

She smiled at her brother's overly long hair—the same shade and texture all the Deime siblings shared—and unshaven cheeks. At least he'd remembered to put on a vest underneath his buckskin coat, though the lime green color meant he'd dressed in the dark once again. "Are the bats out already, Don?"

He paused on the hill and pointed to the treeline beyond the lake, where Danny could make out small shadows gliding back and forth between the spruces.

He hadn't come out here for her. "Oh."

He finished his descent from the hill and sat beside her on the grass. "I saw you from the window. I grew concerned when it had been over an hour, and you hadn't turned a single page. What are you reading?"

Don was always one for details.

" Savage Animals of the Jungle ," she said, finding the title more telling about the author's ignorance than the actual temperament of most animals.

"Boring book?" Don asked, sounding scandalized. "Or did you receive and decline another proposal that will have us all fending off Mama's attempts to drag us to church?"

Danny ducked her head at her brother's assumption. Though her mama's merciless natter picking had nothing to do with her wandering thoughts. She'd forgotten about the earl's visit earlier in the day. "I'm merely lost in thought." The day had been a whirlwind. "Papa and I visited Fellow Hall this afternoon."

Don looked out at the lake, the first stars visible in the sky reflecting in its placid surface. "How is Father?"

She smiled at his tone, the same reserved concern their father had when asking about his son. "You'd know if you spoke with him."

Don leaned back on his elbows and considered the sky. "He only wants to discuss how I am duty bound to take up his seat and draft bills of institution and charity."

"Or pass laws on animal habitats and integration of understanding into the schools."

He glanced her way and quirked a brow. "Always the peacekeeper."

She nudged him with her shoulder. "I'll have you and Papa reconciling over one of your revolutionary vegetable dinners before Michaelmas."

He laughed.

"Who's reconciling now?" Lady Denise Eloise Deime, their younger sister, appeared beside the reigning willow tree, her slippered feet hidden in the ankle length grass. She glanced around, her mass of curls on her head dangling dangerously to one side. "Has Mama prepared one of her sermons? If so, I can arrange for bedrolls and a lantern, and we can stay out here indefinitely."

"You, stay outside?" Don glanced Danny's way. "Did we get a new sister while I was working in my study?"

"Working?" Denise glowered. "You mean sleeping all day and lurking through the dark woods at night like some creature from a gothic novel?"

"Creature?" Don quirked his head to one side, clearly intrigued. "What kind of creature? Canis ? Catus ? Aves ?" He paused and considered. "That's Latin for—"

"I know the Latin terms for dogs and cats." Denise frowned at Danny. "What was the last one?"

"Birds."

Denise nodded, as if she'd known the answer all along. "And birds, of course."

Don clapped his hands together. "That's marvelous! If you've taken an interest in species, you can help me with my research."

Denise snorted. "I'll take Mama's sermons, thank you."

Danny hid her smile behind her hand. While the three siblings had always found a way to co-exist with minimal bloodshed, recent changes—Don's grant to study nocturnal habits from Cambridge, Denise's forthcoming debut into society with all the fittings and instruction, and Danny's ever-persistent suitors—kept them far busier than any of them liked.

Denise sat on Danny's other side, leaving the three in ascending order from youngest to oldest. "If we aren't hiding from Mama, then is it another suitor? I tell you, Danny, I can instigate an innocent ‘accident' the minute the next one walks through the front door: Releasing the hounds inside, a chamber pot's contents thrown over the banister, a pie to the face."

Danny laughed but quickly added, "No, thank you. There's no need to go that far." With Denise, one should never assume threats were idle.

Denise glanced over her head to share a look with their brother, both seeming to come to the same conclusion when they wrapped their arms around Daniella in an unbreakable grip.

Danny gasped. "What are you doing?"

"You may as well give it up," Denise said. "There're two of us and we're all equally stubborn. Now, tell us all your secrets or we'll be forced to throw you into the lake."

"You wouldn't—" She stopped, reconsidered addressing her sister, and turned to her brother. " You wouldn't!"

He shrugged. "We're concerned."

"And letting me catch pneumonia is your solution?"

Denise shook her head. "She's stalling."

Don agreed. "You take her arms. I've got the legs."

"Stop!" Danny scowled as they released her, both enjoying smug smiles of victory. She cursed under her breath. Meddling siblings, worse than magpies.

"Out with it, then!" Denise commanded.

Danny glanced back to the house, knowing she wouldn't make it halfway before they caught her. She sighed. "I met the new Duke of Grandfellow today."

"Oh." Danny made a face. "Is he boring? Old? Snaggle-toothed and smells like herring?"

If only. "He's handsome, mannered, interesting."

There was a pause, and then, "You fancy him!"

Give her sister a list and she'd write a novel. "That's ridiculous."

"I've never heard you mention a man as handsome or interesting," Denise said. "The best compliment you've ever used was ‘tolerable,' which I daresay meant he was nothing of the sort."

Danny's cheeks grew warm. "I would never be so critical."

"She said ‘moderately tolerable,'" Don confirmed. "It was when the Duke of Wembley proposed."

"Which one was he again?" Denise asked. "The one who proclaimed his undying love from the seat of his carriage?"

"That was the Viscount of Wessex. The duke was the one who'd instructed his gardeners to fetch all the lilies from the surrounding ponds to be placed on our drive, leading up to his white charger."

"Yes." Denise nodded, remembering. "Too bad the man had no notion of water plants and their intolerance for sunbaked gravel."

The ache in her temple wouldn't abate, no matter how hard Danny pushed. "If you've had enough recounting my humiliation?"

"Don't be selfish, sister," Denise said. "The humiliation was entirely theirs."

Don patted Danny's hand affectionately. "It is rare to hear you so complimentary."

"I told you, she's smitten!"

Danny frowned at her sister's squeal. "I don't know anything about him."

Denise waved that rational thought away. "Easily remedied. We'll ask around, see whom he knows, check his credit with the butcher."

"That's all it takes for a gentleman to be a catch? A few friends and a settled account?"

"His account need not be settled," Denise said. "As long as he has the funds to make it current upon notice."

"You sound like Mama."

Denise clutched her chest, horrified. "Take that back."

"Shall I inquire about his character at the club?" Don asked.

"He won't be a member of any club."

The words came out too fast, and her sister leapt at the implied admission.

"You talked a good deal this afternoon it seems. Tell us, what else did you learn about the new duke?"

Danny took the hit and struck one of her own. "He's blessed as an only child."

"Poor fellow," Denise said. "I know! Let's invite him to tea."

"He'll be far too busy managing his estate," Danny said, praying it was true. When Denise caught the scent, it took a blizzard to take her off. "And Papa has already offered to make a social call next week. Too much interference from us and the Duke of Grandfellow will avoid us like gnats."

Don stirred. "Gnats are actually quite fascinating—"

"No, they're not." Denise tapped her chin and contemplated her sister long enough to make Danny squirm. "All right. I'll leave the man be, for now . But I'm still going to inquire in town to hear what is to be said for the man." She made a face. "I mean, what if he likes herring? Better to know if he will smell like oily sea waste before you fall in love."

Love? Ha. No worry over that. Danny smiled and wrapped her arms around her ridiculous sister. "Thank you."

Don's babbling about gnats and how their living cycle made them choice prey for the nocturnal predators petered out as he glanced at their embracing forms. "I missed something."

"We've promised not to encroach on our sister's new suitor," Denise said. "Except to make sure he isn't a lover of fish."

"Herring?"

"Precisely."

Don nodded. "I loathe the smell of brine."

"He's not my suitor."

Both siblings turned to her, brows raised.

"He's not," Danny said.

Denise's gaze narrowed. "But you want him to be?"

"I..." Danny's lips and tongue wouldn't make the proper denial. There was still the business of the Leishires' ball and the man's suspicious character. But that hadn't mattered when he'd kissed her. Expert kissing. Not to mention the respectful way he'd addressed her papa. Saying she felt nothing for the Duke of Grandfellow would be a blatant lie. The truth was, she had yet to decipher if her feelings were ones of romance or gratitude or curiosity. The connection between them was visceral, overwhelming. Danny recognized the fire his presence set off in her, but whether those flames would smoke out or burn her irrevocably was yet unknown.

"I don't know," she said finally.

"Then it's settled," Denise said, giving a firm nod. "We will help you figure it out."