Love and the Shameless Lady (Scandalous Kisses Book 3) Page 16

  He did, thank heavens. She fetched the second and third volumes of The Lady’s Ruin and proffered them, her arm outstretched to keep as much distance as possible between them, eyes on the floor.

  “Look at me, Daisy,” he whispered. “Don’t be afraid.”

  She couldn’t meet his eyes. She dared not, for fear he would see too much. Take the books. Please.

  He didn’t. Instead, he pulled her to him, put a finger under her chin, and pushed it gently up. Before she could stop him, he leaned in and kissed her. She froze. Both anguish and pleasure rendered her helpless.

  Voices heralded the approach of Miles and Melinda.

  Julian broke the kiss and took the books. “Goodnight, Daisy, my love.”

  Chapter 9

  Daisy fled into her bedchamber and shut the door. Her heart drummed and danced in her breast. Stupid heart! It should not be dancing. Fear tangled with desire, and she willed the fear to win. She could not afford to be swept away again. The inevitable disappointment would kill her.

  No, that was a pitiful way of thinking. She wasn’t so weak as to fall to pieces because of a man. She summoned the strength built of anger which she’d counted on over the past several years. It had served her well, had bolstered her in loneliness and given her courage to live amongst the common people. To enjoy living amongst them, except for the one drawback—that she couldn’t marry and have children. She wasn’t suited to be the wife of a common man, and no one of her own class wanted her.

  Such a sweet, tender, gentle kiss, and yet it made every fiber of her being stand to attention.

  What was it about desire that took hold of one’s mind and body both? She knew better than to believe its beguilements. She wrenched her mind back to her habitual anger, but she was too tired . . .

  But not too tired to imagine more tender kisses, then bolder kisses and caresses. Her eyelids drooped with sleepiness as she removed her gown, but her nipples hardened eagerly. Her body was limp with fatigue, and yet her core ached with longing.

  For what? More degradation and misery. She must be out of her mind. Tomorrow she would not be tired. She would be strong and fierce. She would avoid Sir Julian as much as humanly possible.

  She slipped her nightdress over her head, climbed into bed, blew out the candle, and willed herself to sleep.

  By morning, commonsense had reasserted itself. That kiss, she realized, had taken place because Sir Julian had heard Miles and Melinda coming. He’d done it on purpose to lend veracity to their charade. He didn’t really have tender feelings for her, but nor was he a ravenous seducer. It was just a kiss for effect.

  A pity it had had such a powerful effect on her, but Julian couldn’t have known. Now that she was rested, she could shrug those feelings away.

  It wasn’t until she was seated at the dressing table that she noticed a book sitting innocently beneath her brush and comb. Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded, a truly ridiculous story, but Daisy recognized the dog-eared pages and a tear in the spine. It was the very volume she and Gloriana had used to pass secret messages, years and years ago.

  She opened the book, her heart beating hopefully, and slipped her finger into the spine. Sure enough, a small folded piece of foolscap awaited her.

  I’m sorry I was hateful, but I had no choice. Please, please agree to speak with me privately when I come to Garrison House tomorrow. Your ever-loving cousin, G.

  Daisy sat back, taking it in. Gloriana must have sneaked into her bedchamber the previous evening and left the book for her to find. Relief filled her, but she did her best to tamp it down. This message did not automatically restore their friendship. Why would Gloriana have no choice but to be hateful? Because of her hopes of marrying Lord Hythwick?

  That seemed likely, but Daisy was not inclined to forgive both unkindness and hypocrisy.

  She considered consulting Julian, but decided to wait. She was supposed to be distancing herself from him, not asking his advice. At breakfast, she avoided anything but the merest pleasantries with him, and asked Melinda again about watching the cook make rock buns.

  This resulted in a delightful morning in the kitchen. Mrs. Wallace was a placid woman who welcomed Daisy into her domain. When Daisy promised to give her credit for the recipe in the cookery book, she blushed and demurred, but with a delighted smile. What with discussing everything from the consistency of the butter to the degree of moisture in the flour and mixing and baking the cakes, the morning passed quickly.

  Julian wandered in after a few hours. She could have done without his disturbing presence, but he was cheerful and friendly, with no amorous gleam in his eye.

  “So this is where you are. I’m ready to borrow another book.”

  Right. There was no amorous gleam because he didn’t feel amorous. “I’ll get it as soon as I’m finished with this dough.”

  “I can do that, Miss Daisy,” Mrs. Wallace said. “You needn’t stay here if your good gentleman needs you.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of interrupting Miss Daisy while she’s baking,” Julian said. “It’s a form of art, Mrs. Wallace, as I’m sure you understand.”

  Mrs. Wallace laughed, served him coffee, and made much of him, which made it easier for Daisy to ignore him.

  Heavens, he understood about cookery. He didn’t object to a lady’s soiling her fingers with work. Of course, he wouldn’t feel the same about his wife.

  Oh, God, why must her unruly thoughts run this way?

  She had just removed the pan from the oven—the rock buns looked superb—when a footman came into the kitchen. “Miss Gloriana wishes a word with you, Miss Daisy, if you would be so kind. In the small drawing room.”

  Daisy sighed. She’d been enjoying herself.

  “I’ll take care of the rest, Miss Daisy,” Mrs. Wallace said.

  “Shall I come with you?” Julian asked.

  “No,” Daisy said, adding belatedly, “Thank you, but I’m sure she wants to speak with me alone.”

  She made her way to the small drawing room. Gloriana paced back and forth before the windows. She whirled at Daisy’s entrance. “Did Miles tell you—” She halted mid-sentence, her mouth agape. “You’re wearing an apron. And there’s something on your cheek.”

  “It’s probably flour.” She stopped herself from brushing it off.

  “What have you been doing?”

  “Making rock buns,” Daisy said. “What do you want?”

  Gloriana squeezed her eyes shut as if in pain. “Why? You’re a gentlewoman, and what’s more, you’re a guest in the house of a peer. Whatever you’re obliged to do at that inn, you needn’t do it here.”

  “I’m not obliged to do anything,” Daisy said. “I like cooking and baking.”

  “I suppose you scrub floors, too.”

  “No, but I do sweep them. I repeat, what do you want with me?”

  Gloriana blew out a long breath. “Shut the door.” She paused. “Please.”

  With a shrug, Daisy complied. Her fingers itched to brush the flour off her cheek, but she remained still, eyeing her cousin.

  “Mostly, or at least partly, I came to apologize.” Gloriana twisted her hands together, an achingly familiar gesture, and suddenly Daisy remembered what she’d been unable to recall yesterday. Crossing one’s fingers meant one was telling a lie.

  A pity she hadn’t realized that at the time, as it would have spared her a great deal of anguish. She mightn’t have burst into humiliating tears, either.

  “I tried to let you know that I didn’t mean what I was saying,” Gloriana said.

  “The crossed fingers,” Daisy said coldly. “Unfortunately, I didn’t remember what it meant until just now.”

  “I’m sorry I was unkind yesterday, and I’m even sorrier that I must continue to be so.” She chewed her lip, exactly as she had in c
hildhood. “I never dreamed I would have to be publicly hateful to you. It makes me sick. Literally, I mean. I almost vomited all over Melinda’s roses.”

  What a relief to be back, even for a few minutes, in a world where Gloriana’s passionate temper was as familiar to Daisy as her own frustrations. “You’re being hateful because of Lord Hythwick?”

  Gloriana nodded. “They told you about him at dinner, I assume. Nobody wants me to marry him.”

  “I’m not surprised. He sounds frightful.”

  “He’s an earl,” Gloriana said. “I’ll be a countess, head of a proud family with absolutely no scandals to its name. It’s the culmination of my fondest hopes.”

  “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Daisy retorted.

  Gloriana glared at her. Then sniffled. Heavens, was she wiping a tear from her eye? “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it matters. Why would you wed a man you don’t love?”

  “Love is an illusion,” she replied automatically. It was one of the cherished family maxims. “Although seemingly that has changed for other Warrens—Miles, Colin, and now you. I’m quite, quite jealous, and I hope you’ll be deliriously happy.” She sighed. “But love is not for me.”

  Daisy bit back the temptation to confess her own woeful expectations. “Why not?”

  “It just isn’t,” Gloriana muttered. “I’ve missed you, Daisy. I wish we could still be friends.”

  “So do I, but the choice is yours, not mine.”

  “No, it’s not my choice either.”

  “That makes no sense at all. Just don’t marry Lord Hythwick.”

  Gloriana shook her head dismissively. “Perhaps we can be friends in secret. Or perhaps I’ll manage to visit Miles and Melinda without Hythwick, and you can visit at the same time, and he’ll never know. Or maybe you will be socially acceptable again once you’ve been married to Sir Julian for several years. He’s a good sort of man. I admit, I was surprised that he’s willing to marry a scandalous woman, but it speaks well of him. You know I don’t really think badly of you—not even about wearing aprons and sweeping floors, which, although incomprehensible, is actually rather quaint.”

  “No, I don’t know,” Daisy retorted. “How could I possibly? You never wrote to me but once, and you said you never wanted to see me again.”

  “I was upset. I didn’t mean it.”

  “Did you think I would beg forgiveness? Not likely.”

  Gloriana chuckled sadly. “No, we’re both stubborn as can be. I’m sorry for that, too.”

  “You may as well know that I wasn’t ashamed of seducing the smuggler.” Daisy steeled herself for a sudden flare of temper. “I’m still not. I never will be.”

  Gloriana hunched an indifferent shoulder. “Why should you be? We all make mistakes. The longing for passion drives one to-to foolish and dangerous extremes.”

  What a mind-boggling admission from Gloriana. “Even you?”

  “I didn’t say that.” She stood in a hurry and turned away. “I merely came to apologize, and to assure you that when I’m being horrid, I don’t really mean it.”

  “Thank you,” Daisy said, unable to keep a sarcastic note from her voice. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Besides, this wasn’t over. “You also came to ask me to leave.”

  Gloriana faced her again, nodding briskly. “If you wouldn’t mind. It can’t matter to you, surely, whether you visit now or in another fortnight. Nothing must be allowed to happen that will cause Lord Hythwick to change his mind. I knew Miles wouldn’t turn you out, but I had to pretend that I thought he would.” She giggled unconvincingly. “He thinks I’ve run mad.”

  “Small blame to him. You’re behaving like an idiot.”

  “I don’t expect you to understand, but I swear this is more important to me than anything.” Her expression was almost distraught. “I’ll be mortified to-to death if he doesn’t ask me to marry him.”

  “Gloriana, do you have any idea what it’s like to be truly mortified?”

  “Yes,” she snapped. “I do!” She paused. “Dearest Daisy, please go away.” Pause. “And then please come back again.”

  Daisy sighed. She’d understood her cousin in the past, but no longer. “I wish I could.”

  Gloriana’s brows drew together. “Miles and Melinda won’t mind, not truly. You must leave quickly. Lord Hythwick is due to arrive this afternoon.”

  “I don’t think Miles and Sir Julian will permit me to go.” Daisy did not want to explain her predicament to Gloriana.

  “That’s your excuse? Since when have you become obedient?”

  “I haven’t, but they’ll make it difficult for me. Miles will forbid me to take his carriage, and Sir Julian will refuse to escort me.”

  “But why?” Gloriana wailed. “Miles would like to spoil my chances, but why should Sir Julian care? If he doesn’t want you to stay at that horrid tavern, he can take you to the Hollow.”

  “No, because it wouldn’t be proper for him to remain with me there.”

  “It’s a bit late for you to fuss about propriety,” Gloriana retorted, “but he needn’t stay. He can go to an inn.”

  “He won’t. He’s concerned for my safety.”

  “Since when are you worried about being safe?” For a brief instant, Daisy wondered if Gloriana would stamp her foot. “If you don’t want to help me, just say so!”

  Oh, damn, Daisy thought.

  Her cousin’s eyes filled with tears. “I thought I could count on you, because you know me better than anyone.” She choked on a sob. “You’ll never forgive me, will you?”

  Daisy threw up her hands. “It has nothing to do with forgiveness. I would be happy to help you, no matter how stupidly you’re behaving, but it’s slightly more important to me to stay alive!”

  Julian had paused outside the drawing room, but a few seconds’ eavesdropping was enough. He tapped on the door and went in. “Daisy, my love, there’s a letter for you.”

  His heart twisted at the distress in Daisy’s eyes. He made a point of ignoring Gloriana, who deserved a good birching, and proffered Daisy a sealed missive. “One of the grooms from the Hollow brought it.”

  Daisy broke the seal and quickly read the page. “It’s from Mr. Doughty, the publisher. He doesn’t know who wrote that letter. He swears he has told no one, although many people have asked. He says that someone broke into his shop one night a couple of months ago. His assistant, who lives above it, was knocked out trying to repel the intruder. Nothing was stolen, but the files were strewn about. That must be how my secret was disclosed.”

  Gloriana was wiping the tears from her eyes, but at this, she frowned. “What secret?”

  Julian ignored her again. “Shall we discuss this somewhere more private, my love?”

  “No.” Daisy slumped. “For all I know, my secret will soon be revealed to everyone in society. Maybe if I explain to Gloriana, she will realize that I don’t hate her.”

  Gloriana scowled. “Explain what?”

  Julian continued to ignore her. “Miss Warren deserves no consideration from you, Daisy. You need explain nothing.” He took out his handkerchief and dusted the flour from her cheek. She sucked in a soft breath. As always, his touch made her uneasy. He wished he knew why.

  “Make her take off that disgusting apron, too,” Gloriana said.

  “I like the apron,” Julian said, “and I dusted off her cheek so I can kiss it.” He suited action to words. Her color fluctuated, but this time she didn’t flinch.

  “Very affecting,” Gloriana said, and again, “Explain what?”

  “It’s your decision, Daisy, but don’t let her push you into revealing anything you’d rather not,” Julian said.

  “I don’t want her to think I mean her harm,” Daisy said.

 
“And I cannot tolerate the way she treats you.”

  “She’s just being her typically idiotic self. That doesn’t bother me.”

  Surprisingly, Gloriana didn’t take offense. “Yes, I’m horrid, and I’m stupid, too, but please explain.”

  Daisy sank onto the sofa, and Julian lowered himself next to her. “You may as well sit, Gloriana,” she said. “It’s a long story.”

  Impatiently, her cousin took a seat opposite them, and Daisy explained the events of the past few days.

  “Someone wants to kill you for writing a book?” Gloriana said at last.

  “So it seems.”

  “That is absurd.”

  “Nevertheless, it’s true,” Daisy said. “If you don’t believe me, then pray take Sir Julian’s word for it. He saw the threatening letter and the hole in my bonnet, and he rescued me from the roof.”

  Gloriana sniffed. “Your tomboyishness finally came in useful.”

  “You used to be as much of a tomboy as I,” Daisy retorted. “We both climbed the wall into Mr. Prescott’s garden and stole green apples. We both sneaked out to bathe naked in the lake.”

  Gloriana stifled a giggle. For a moment, she seemed almost human, and then she said, “Daisy, how can you say such things? If you are not embarrassed at such a confession, I certainly am.”

  “What happened to you, Gloriana? You used to be fun!”

  A spasm of some gentler emotion—Julian couldn’t quite tell what—crossed Gloriana’s face. Sadness? Regret? Whatever it was, she mastered it immediately and turned on Julian. “Can you not see why she must go elsewhere? She will ruin everything.”

  “If you knew Daisy as well as you claim, you would know that she will respond more favorably to kindness,” Julian said.

  Again, that spasm of emotion. “I can’t afford to be kind.”

  If she’d been a man, Julian would have been tempted to demonstrate some very physical unkindness. “For God’s sake, Miss Warren—”