Daphne by MC Beaton Read Free Book Online Page A

an eye over the sleepy hounds who had just had their evening meal. ‘She is not lacking in intelligence, I trust?’
    ‘No,’ said the startled vicar. ‘She ain’t a blue-stocking , thanks be to God.’
    ‘But not lacking any of her mental faculties?’
    ‘See here,’ said the vicar acidly. ‘It’s the points o’ the hounds you’re supposed to be going over.’
    ‘Yes. But I will return to the matter of your daughter in a little while.’
    The vicar looked up at him nervously. This Garfield couldn’t be interested in Daphne? Not after that prayer that he, the Reverend Armitage, had sent up to the heavens.
    It almost seemed like a bad omen when Mr Garfield at last selected Bellsire and Thunderer.
    For unlike Diana and Frederica, the soft-hearted Daphne was apt to make a pet of the dogs. Not that she ever allowed them to spread hairs on her gown, but sometimes she would stroke them after feeding time and talk nonsense to them when she thought no one was around.
    The vicar had been rather touched by the pretty sight one evening when he had found his impeccable daughter murmuring softly to the noisy dogs.
    Bellsire and Thunderer were Daphne’s favourites.
    Biting his lip, the vicar called for John Summer and told him to put the hounds in Mr Garfield’s carriage.
    It was unfortunate that Daphne should emerge from the house just at that moment.
    ‘You are not sending Bellsire and Thunderer away, Papa!’ she cried. ‘They are little more than puppies.’
    The two foxhounds cavorted about her. Their ears had not yet been rounded and their white and tan coats gleamed with health.
    Mr Garfield noticed with amusement that the beautiful Miss Daphne now had all her wits about her and was not even attempting to hide the fact.
    ‘Mr Garfield has chosen them, Daphne,’ said the vicar, ‘and it is the least we can do for him after his generosity.’
    ‘They are not for me,’ said Mr Garfield. ‘They are for a friend of mine, a Mr Edwin Apsley.’
    ‘And is Mr Apsley kind to animals?’
    ‘Miss Daphne, he wishes a couple of hounds for his pack, not for the drawing room.’
    Daphne’s long preserved calm finally broke. ‘I am persuaded he will ill-treat them if he is a Corinthian like yourself. He will whip them!’
    ‘Daphne!’ howled the vicar. ‘Go to your room!’
    Daphne, for once unmindful of her dress, was kneeling in the gravel, hugging both dogs who were licking her face.
    At her father’s words, tears started to her eyes, andshe gave a gulping sob, got to her feet and ran into the house.
    ‘Come into the study, Mr Garfield,’ said the vicar gruffly. ‘Was ever a man so plagued? You wouldn’t get my other girls sentimentalizing over a pair o’ animals. I’m amazed at Daphne. I’ve never seen her this put about before. Always the quietest and most biddable of girls.’
    A price was agreed on and Mr Garfield rose to take his leave.
    Reluctantly the vicar reminded Mr Garfield that he had said there was some way in which he might be repaid for all his kindness.
    ‘Do you bring your daughter to London?’ asked Mr Garfield abruptly.
    ‘Daphne? She’s just returned. Was staying with Lady Brabington, Annabelle, her sister,’ said the vicar, walking to the window and peering out at the purple night pricked by the first twinkling stars.
    The vicar remembered his prayer. ‘Fact is,’ he said cautiously, ‘Daphne met some fellow when she was last up and talked about an engagement … to a Mr Archer.’
    ‘Cyril Archer?’
    ‘The same.’
    Mr Garfield swung around. ‘I am persuaded they would not suit. I know this Mr Archer.’
    ‘But my dear sir …’
    ‘I did not ask you for your daughter’s hand in marriage,’ said Mr Garfield evenly, ‘I only asked you for your help in furthering my acquaintance with her.’
    ‘So you did,’ said the vicar, brightening visibly. He looked up fondly at the tall figure of Mr Garfield, seeing in his place sacks and sacks of guineas. ‘I’ll do my