Robert hadn't been able to keep away. He knew he ought to stay back, he knew he ought to stay as far away as he possibly could from Daphne's elder brother, but a little too much opium and Robert had all the decision-making skills of a lemming in the final throes of a serious degenerative brain disease.
He reasoned that, as a well-known MP, who could stand up and rant about any cause, given the right points to make, he ought to attend the funeral of someone as great a public figure as Lord Wexley. Thus, Robert had dressed modestly, powdered his blond hair, and kept to the back of the church, looking for Daphne.