Page 14 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

Though he kept his gaze on her, the Colonel did not immediately answer. His expression remained friendly enough, but his eyes seemed to darken and look through her. “I have been absent from Society, Miss Price. That much is true.” His gaze sharpened on hers once more. “And that is the extent of the tale.”

An evasion? How curious. The man was hiding something—but what? Would his reasons for keeping away impact Daphne’s chances at a good match? If he would not reveal the truth to Felicity… She would have to find out for herself. Somehow.

Daphne took another step forward and a little in front of Felicity, her disapproval of her aunt’s prying apparent in the movement. “I look forward to our trip to London, Colonel Halstead. Thank you.”

The man inclined his head. “I imagine it will prove…educational. To all of us.” His eyes flickered over Daphne’s shoulder to meet Felicity’s, and her chin came up.

“Indeed. I expect it will be,” she said, tone perfectly polite.

He looked from one woman to the other. “I will see you both again at dinner. Perhaps you will have an itinerary for our London trip by this time tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Daphne agreed quickly. Then looked at Felicity with raised eyebrows. “We will have it ready, will we not?”

Felicity gave her niece a reassuring nod. “Yes, darling. We will.”

“Good. Until dinner, then.” Colonel Halstead bowed as they curtsied, smiled at Daphne, sent one last curiously amused glance to Felicity, then left the room.

“Educational?” Daphne looked to her aunt. “What do you think he meant by that?”

“I suspect he wasn’t referring solely to your lessons.” Felicity retook her seat, with as calm an expression as she could manage.

Did she trust Colonel Halstead? No. Not yet. But he was proving himself by degrees. What troubled her at that moment was the tickle of curiosity she felt at the back of her mind. Curiosity about him.

Yes, she definitely wanted to know more about Edward Halstead.

Chapter Five

The Black Swan Coffeehouse had changed nothing about its interior or menu in years, which was one reason Edward enjoyed visiting on the infrequent occasions that he came to London. They still had the board up with information on stock and trade, updated daily, as it had been in the days when all such business was conducted in coffeehouses. It still smelled of roasting coffee beans and gossip. There was still the same liveried men moving calmly about the place, delivering orders to tables. Edward took a seat at a table near the front window, his hat on a stand nearby, and ordered coffee and toast for himself.

He had ridden in the carriage with the ladies in relative silence, and left them at a seamstress’s shop with promises to meet them for tea in a few hours’ time. Miss Price had nodded curtly, Daphne had given him a shy smile, and both had disappeared inside the business without a backward glance.

Somehow, he had to win their trust. Daphne, sweet as she was, did not seem ready to trust him while her aunt held back—which marked the girl as intelligent, measuring her response to him by someone who she already knew had her best interests at heart. It was Miss Felicity Price he needed to convince of his suitability as a guardian.

Her, and all of London.

The bells above the door chimed, and Edward looked with hope for the friend he intended to meet, but it was not him, merely two other unknown gentlemen who doffed hats and took seats, talking about a boxing match with enthusiasm.

Edward wrinkled his nose in distaste. After years spent fighting, he had little love for fisticuffs, or hunting. Truly, most of the sport other men enjoyed made him feel somewhat ill. He did not begrudge them their entertainment or exercise, he merely wished for more peaceful forms of it for himself. One of the men speaking glanced his way, and only then did Edward recognize him. He nodded. The other man turned his head and hesitated before doing the same, then pointedly gave no word of greeting and back to his conversation with his companion.

Not everyone would forget his name tied to past scandal, it would seem, despite the two decades between his youthful indiscretions and the present. He focused on his coffee, ignoring the weight of the past pressing upon his chest.

This was precisely why he was here. He needed advice—guidance—in navigating London Society’s twisted paths, for Daphne’s sake. Even if he’d rather stay at home, tucked away in the countryside, where life was simpler.

The bells jingled again and this time it was his friend, Frederick Baker, who entered the room. Baker raised his hand the moment he spied Edward, and called out a cheerful, “Halstead, here you are at last!”

Edward rose, exchanging a hearty handshake with his old army friend. “Baker, good to see you again. What’s it been? Five months?”

“Eight, you rascal.” Baker slapped his shoulder with his free hand and took his seat as Edward did the same. After a staff member took Baker’s order, he continued as though without interruption. “It is good to see you leave your hermitage on occasion. Your letter yesterday afternoon gave me a great deal of entertainment, you must know. I told my Hannah when I read it, ‘You’ll not believe what’s happened to poor Halstead.’ She laughed and said, ‘Oh, dear. He will not know what to do with any of it.’”

“I am glad I provided some amusement to your lovely wife and you.” Edward smiled, despite the jest at his expense. “You know me better than most, so it seemed natural to turn to you.”

“Ha! Truly, you ought to have asked Hannah to coffee. She is the one who manages our family. Three children, two of them girls! Aye, Hannah would be the best for advice on taking a young female into your home.”

“I have no doubt of that.” Edward lowered his coffee cup to the table, taking in his friend’s relaxed posture and cheerful grin. “But I told you that my ward, Daphne, came with someone who knows how to manage.”

“The aunt? Yes. How grim, to be saddled with a spritely youthful ward and a grim miserly spinster as companion at the same time.” Baker shook his head with some show of sympathy. “I suppose the aunt will do well enough for now, especially with Miss Daphne Price so near an age to be wed. Yet your letter spoke of needing advice—so how might I advise you?” Baker folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, a crooked grin upon his face.

Edward shifted in his chair, feeling his size more than usual as his knee knocked against a table leg. He managed not to wince, a control gained from practice. “I have been out of Society for so long, I must make my own re-entry before I can even hope to introduce Daphne to the people who matter, let alone receive invitations to the best parties and balls.”