Page 14 of Barbarous

Predictably, Daphne’s face heated at his innuendo. “Your use of that word will only serve to stir ignorant speculation.”

“Notches?”

The corner of her mouth began to twitch upward but she ruthlessly pulled it back down.

“The word auntie, Lord Ramsay, as you well know. I do not like to think of you going about the country reminding all and sundry of our ridiculous relationship.”

He leaned toward her. “What activity do you like to think of me doing?”

Daphne coughed to cover the traitorous laugh that broke out of her. She absolutely refused to encourage him. Instead, she narrowed her eyes in a manner she generally reserved for quelling her rambunctious sons.

“You may use my Christian name, which is Daphne.”

“Your wish is my command . . . Daphne.” His warm tone and sensual lips made her name sound like some type of scandalous foreign undergarment.

She frowned and gestured for her butler to begin serving. Six footmen flowed into the massive room and laid out the first course under the direction of Gates’s gimlet eye.

“Thank you, Gates,” Daphne said after enough food to feed a small village was laid out on the table. “Lord Ramsay and I will serve ourselves.”

“Very good, my lady,” Gates murmured, giving no sign he thought her request unorthodox.

It was unorthodox, but Daphne wanted to talk to her new nephew without an audience of sharp-eyed and sharp-eared servants. After all, it was entirely possible she might have to address the subject of Malcolm. If so, she didn’t mean to share the distasteful conversation with the entire neighborhood.

They helped themselves to the various dishes and the room was silent but for the sound of cutlery on china.

When it became clear he had no intention of voluntarily satisfying her curiosity, she laid down her fork and knife and turned to him.

“And by which name shall I call you—Lord Ramsay or Captain Standish?” If she thought to unsettle him with her knowledge, she was mistaken. Instead, he sat back in his chair, as indolent and relaxed as a pasha surveying his domain.

“You are correct . . . Daphne, I have been known as One-Eyed Standish for quite some time now.” He raised his glass in the gesture of a toast. “But I daresay we must bid farewell to that name for as long as I am back in the civilized world.” His mocking tone conveyed his opinion of said world. And just what did that mean? For as long as he was back. Was he going somewhere? Before Daphne could ask, he continued.

“As I said earlier today, we are family—you must call me Hugh.”

Daphne returned his lazily amused smile with one of her own. If he wished to lean on their tenuous relationship, far be it from her to ignore such an opportunity.

“Very well, Hugh, as we are family, perhaps you would enlighten me as to where you’ve been these past two decades? I believe I deserve to know as much, since your sudden return from the dead means our lives will be the main topic of conversation in every hamlet, town, and city in Great Britain before the week is out—if not already.”

Rather than looking chastened, he grinned. “Why, what an excellent idea, Daphne.” It was not the answer she’d expected. But then, he wasn’t finished yet. “As we are family I suppose it is within both our rights to demand an intimate personal history of one another.” He leaned toward her. “I must admit I am just as curious about your past as you are about mine.”

Daphne swallowed. Well. That had been rather ill-conceived and foolish of her, hadn’t it? She might as well just blurt out her entire, humiliating tale now and spare herself the future agony. Instead she clamped her jaws shut. Tightly.

He took a drink of wine. “If you don’t think it ungentlemanly, I can go first?”

She nodded, no longer trusting herself to speak.

“Let us hope I can slake your curiosity while neither boring you insensible nor exposing you to subjects unsuitable for a woman’s delicate ears,” he mocked.

Daphne burned to lash out, but refused to give him the satisfaction. He was a devil, and she would do well not to wander so eagerly and foolishly into his traps.

He held his glass to the light, admiring the ruby color. “I’m sure you’ve heard my uncle and I did not part on the best of terms.” It was not a question. “I’d been sent down from Oxford for engaging in a duel and for . . .” He paused and then waved the glass enough to send the liquid sloshing. “Well, it does not signify what else. Nobody was harmed, at least not seriously.” His lips curved into a smile that matched his black patch, savage scar, and hard green eye.

Daphne was positive that even her hair blushed at what he left unspoken.

“That wasn’t the first time I’d been a very bad boy, or even the tenth. My uncle and I had been butting heads since my first summer back from Eton, where I’d learned from some of the older boys just how much fun it was to misbehave. The earl had endured my wild ways much longer than he should have—certainly longer than I would have in his place.” He shrugged. “In any event, he was away from Lessing Hall when I came home under a cloud of shame. While awaiting his return I took out one of his prize hunters while I was quite drunk and rode recklessly. The horse had to be put down.” His roguish smile drained away. “After that debacle the earl decided I should remove myself from England until I learned self-restraint. This was when France was rife with problems for people of our station so we—William Standish was to accompany me to keep me out of trouble—decided to sail to Italy after a brief stop in Gibraltar.

“Not long after we departed Gibraltar, a storm sent our ship off course and we hit an obstruction.” He dismissed the disaster that had altered the course of his life with a casual shrug. “William and I were on deck staring down the storm, as foolish young men will.” His eye was vague as he sifted through the past. “We were very lucky. Most of those belowdecks perished. We helped fill the first two lifeboats with women and children and were waiting for the next boat when the ship pitched and we were thrown over the side.”

Daphne realized her fork had been paused midway to her mouth for quite some time and lowered it to her plate, too fascinated to eat.