Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Winston got to his feet. “Edmund, you really should show us your gardens.” He turned towards Daisy. “He had one of the foremost French landscapers working on it. It’s said the man was responsible for designing the gardens at Versailles.”
“Surely not?” Daisy said skeptically, “Are they not extremely old?”
“Of course the gardens are old, but the landscaping is new,” Winston said before turning to Edmund. “There is no use having such a beautiful backyard if no one sees it.”
Edmund chuckled while getting to his feet. “Very well then. Let’s go.” He reached out a hand for Harry to take, but Winston intercepted the boy.
“You’re with me, darling boy,” he declared.
Daisy put down her cup and stepped towards Lady Archworth. But the Dowager Marchioness pivoted so she might address Daisy’s father instead. “Lord Claymore, would you be good enough to lend me your arm?” she asked.
The Earl hurried over to her. “Of course, my lady.”
Daisy looked towards the Duke with a sigh. With an ironic smile, he held his hand out to her, and they followed the others out of the room.
“Why do I feel herded?” she asked in a soft whisper.
He chuckled and spoke through very thin lips, as though they were sharing a secret, “Because you have been. You see now what I mean about my aunt?”
“And your bosom friend, apparently.”
The Duke’s lips pursed slightly as he gave her suggestion some thought. “No, Winston is just trying to make a point. He has an almost pathological need to be right. And I’m afraid this time around his needs and my aunt's wishes intersect.”
They stepped out into the garden. Daisy squinted at the brightness of the sun. She wished for a moment that she’d thought to carry a parasol. Most women of the ton would be more mindful of their skin, but Daisy had too many things on her mind to bother before she left the house that morning.
She looked up to see the wisteria hanging below the windows, the scent of their purple flowers wafting down towards them. “Did your landscaper plant those as well?” she asked.
“Oh no, they came with the house,” the Duke replied. “I believe the previous owner brought them over from the New World.”
“How interesting,” Daisy murmured.
The Duke gestured towards the cobblestone path that zig-zagged through the garden. “This way,” he said. “Allow me to show you the dove cote. Harry loves it.”
Daisy smiled. “I would imagine so. And with so much vegetation to choose from, I am guessing you get quite a few birds visiting?”
His Grace nodded. “Yes. Though we do make sure to leave them seeds and water, so they don’t bother the vegetation too much.” He came to a stop next to a white painted structure on a pole, with several openings for the doves to land on, and covered by a cone shaped roof.
“It’s quite charming.” Daisy surveyed the feature, then gave an approving nod.
“It is. The birds tend to visit in the mornings and evenings.”
“Too busy with their social calendar to hang about otherwise?” Daisy asked with a grin.
“I would assume so.” The Duke smiled.
Today, Daisy was delighted to see that the light sparks had returned to his eyes.
Here, in the garden, out in the warm sunshine, he radiated youth and good health.
Much like his son, there was something disarming and quite charming about the Duke of Blackvale.
When he was surrounded by the splendors of nature and free to converse with her about their beautiful intricacies, she would have readily allowed him to lead her down any winding path.
“Come see the stew pond at the bottom of the garden. Harry and I often catch the fish that live there and have it for dinner.”
Daisy gave him an assessing look. “You are…quite different than how I imagined.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well…” She hemmed for a moment, trying to best think of how to phrase her observations. “I never would have thought you’d spend your time feeding birds or fishing with your son for the simple enjoyment of it. You give the impression of…stuffiness.”
Edmund threw back his head and barked a laugh. “Is that so?”
She shrugged, feeling sheepish.
“Well…it is good to know that you’ve learned something new today.”
She widened her eyes at him. “Have I?”
“Yes. You’ve learned not to make assumptions.”
She squinted at him. “I didn’t say that you weren’t stuffy. You could still prove to be quite tedious.”
The Duke laughed off her words. “I assure you that I am a great many things, my lady, but I shall endeavor never to be stuffy or tedious.”
She snorted. “And I shall try to be less outspoken and judgmental.”
His jaw dropped. “May I ask you to guarantee that by putting it in writing?”
Daisy suppressed a giggle as the Duke raised an eyebrow at her.
“There is no need, Your Grace,” Daisy promised. “I shall be on my very best behavior throughout the rest of the Season and together, we shall win Lady Archworth’s Games.”
“Capital idea, my dear.” The Duke patted her arm. “Now let us admire the garden, shall we?”
Daisy slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow and nodded, indicating that she was ready to proceed.
My dear…my dear…
A thrill raced through Daisy’s mind as she replayed his words repeatedly. He had spoken so simply, so easily, and yet those two little words had sent her mind spiraling in the strangest directions.
Is the Duke beginning to feel affectionate toward me? Was that term of endearment he slipped into the conversation for me…or did he do it because he thought the others might be eavesdropping?
Daisy could not decide one way or the other, so she decided to focus on the flowers. They were as gorgeously arranged as advertised, and it wasn’t difficult to get lost in their beauty. She was not very proficient in her knowledge of flowers, but she did recognize a few.
The red, yellow, and white roses planted in a bed beneath the parlor windows, for example, drew her eye. Harry ran over and plucked a white rose before presenting it to her with a proper bow.
She laughed, endeared by the act and thanked him. The Duke leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Seems he’s more chivalrous than his father.”
Daisy laughed. “I’m sure he’s more chivalrous than most gentlemen in the ton.”
“Ouch.” Lord Salwick said as he sidled up next to them, “Is that a dig as to the quality of men available?”
She shrugged. “If the shoe fits…”
“What a blow to our collective egos.” Lord Salwick lowered his chin and gave Daisy a simpering pout, and she could not help but laugh at his antics.
The Duke grunted a bit of a chortle, then said, “Kindly stop bothering the lady, Winston.”
“I was not bothering her,” Lord Salwick insisted.
The Duke narrowed his eyes at his friend, and they seemed to have a conversation without saying a single word. Suddenly, Lord Salwick smirked and then went to walk beside Lady Archworth, engaging her in conversation.
Daisy considered the Duke, wondering what all that was about. Before she could ask, he took her hand, urging her down the path. “Come, let me show you the crocuses and snowdrops. They’re just coming into bloom.”
She was intrigued to learn that the garden was so sprawling and that flowers which should have already had their season, like crocuses, were still budding. “Is that so? What other flowers do you have?”
“We have pansies and daffodils as well.”
“Anything edible?”
He laughed. “As a matter of fact, Harry and I planted some potatoes and turnips next to the bottom hedge. My property is bordered on the other side by Hyde Park and Harry thought the squirrels might enjoy the occasional snack.” He shook his head fondly.
“I’m not sure that critters like squirrels enjoy such foods, but Harry simply could not be dissuaded from making the effort. ”
Daisy smiled, feeling her heart melt. “He’s quite the thoughtful lad, isn’t he?”
It was then that Daisy noticed there was a bit of sadness in the Duke’s eyes. “Yes, he takes after his mother in that way.”
Daisy opened her mouth to ask what became of her, but then closed it again. She did not want to dredge up any unhappy memories, especially if what Lydia had told her was true.
Even as she thought it, her finger pressed down hard on the rose she was still holding, and she felt a sharp prick. “Ouch!” She dropped the rose and brought her hand up to see the damage.
Miraculously, the thorn had poked through the thin fabric of her gloves. A bead of blood swelled against her index finger where she had been pricked. She peeled off the fabric and looked at the tiny wound. The Duke tipped his head to the side and examined the puncture closely.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Does it hurt terribly?”
She shook her head, struck mute by his proximity, and his big hands cupping hers so gently.
Then, to her shock, he lifted her finger to his mouth and sucked at it.
Her mouth fell open, and she gasped, flabbergasted by the swooping feeling in her belly that culminated in a melting wetness at her core. Her legs trembled, knees going weak.
What is he doing to me?
He pulled her finger from the heat of his mouth before wrapping it gently with his kerchief. She simply stared at him, her mind wiped clean of thought, unable to form any words.
“Is that better?” he asked.
She nodded, still unable to look away from him. He let go of her hand, and the spell that had been holding her hostage dissipated. She took a long breath, trying to reorient herself in reality.
Placing his hand on the small of her back, he urged her forward just as the Dowager Marchioness and her father turned back to see what was keeping them. She tried to smile at them, but her body was still not completely back in her control.
Lady Archworth caught sight of the handkerchief around her finger, and her brow furrowed in concern. “Are you hurt?” she asked.
Daisy nodded jerkily. “I-I’m fine.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed, looking from her to the Duke, but he said nothing.
They reached the stew pond, which had a stone gazebo set in front of it with a small stone fireplace set in the middle of three benches.
Everyone took a seat, while Harry ran around them, seeming quite overjoyed to have so many people around.
“Papa and I catch fish and then cook them over the fire,” he said to Daisy, pointing at the fireplace.
“Is that so? You cook it all by yourselves?” Daisy prompted. Even though the Duke had mentioned this detail already, she did not wish to squash young Lord Harry’s felicity.
Harry nodded. “Well…Papa cooks. He doesn’t let me near the fire.”
“I wager you cannot wait to grow up and cook your own fish.”
Harry jumped up and down in excitement. “Yes. Papa said when I’m twelve, he’ll let me.”
Daisy looked up, meeting the Duke’s eyes. “You have a good father, Harry.”
“Oh, yes,” Lord Harry agreed readily. “Papa is the best.”
While the others chuckled at Harry’s pronouncement, the Duke leaned towards Daisy and lightly nudged her elbow with his own. “Did you hear that, my dear? I am the best.” He fluttered his thick eyelashes at her. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
Daisy’s heart skipped a beat when she thought of how his touch had impacted her just a moment before, but then she recovered her senses and volleyed back, “It means I have found myself a wonderful partner…one who will surely help me to win Lady Archworth’s Games.”