9
Vaughn wore a path in the Persian rugs covering the floor of the hallway, barely aware that Perdita’s parents were watching his every step. On either side of him, paintings of happy lovers seemed to mock him with their innocence.
Mr. Darby fixed him with a formidable gaze. “Darlington, I sense there’s more to tonight’s events than Milburn suddenly accosting my daughter. I believe you know what’s happening, and you had better tell me.”
Vaughn took in a deep breath. He stopped pacing. Just beyond her parents, Vaughn could see heavy drapes drawn over the windows to keep out the cold. He stared at them for a long moment, focusing his thoughts before he finally spoke.
“How much do either of you know about Samuel Milburn?”
“Oh, not much,” Perdita’s mother said, her brows knitting. “He’s w
