Chapter 28 - Daisy
E ven the grandest homes can have rats.
Four hours later, Mimi is having a friendly chat with Mrs. Keating and Jenna in the kitchen while I’m upstairs in my studio. Knowing more about the space, I don’t mind working here while Grant is having a video conference with his partners in the study, their last bit of business until after the holidays.
But, I’m not painting today. I needed a quiet space to prepare my latest set of flash cards. Since the painting won’t be done for a bit, I’m making a special set to give Grant for Christmas – a spicy set. I’ve got a dozen completed and have a few more in mind. Your favorite kink. A fantasy that you’ve never acted out. Blindfold, yes or no…
I also need to sort through my feelings in private for a bit. I think I’m falling for my husband, the thing I was determined never to do. I can’t blame peppermint schnapps since I haven’t had any today. Maybe I can blame it on the tree decorating. Seeing that hint of childish delight in those dark eyes lit me up even more than our tree with its seven hundred sparkling lights.
“Why are we adding so many goddamn lights?” he’d grumbled, getting tangled up yet again as he helped me work my way around the pine. Despite his grumbling, I could tell he was having fun.
“A hundred lights for every foot of tree, that’s the rule.”
“Whoever made that rule obviously doesn't pay an electric bill,” he’d huffed, stumbling over a box of ornaments. For a man who moves with such grace most of the time, he was a bit clumsy when it came to decorating which was utterly adorable. At least he was tall enough to place the star on top without a step ladder.
“An electric bill at Christmas, Mr. Barclay? Bah-humbug. And, it’s the Christmas Fairy’s rule.”
“There is no such creature.”
“Is, too. She rides a mighty pegasus and has a sparkly wand.”
He’d given me the side eye for a moment before whispering the naughty things he’d do to me if he got me tied up in the tinsel. Mimi didn’t hear him but she was smirking at us both when I glanced her way again.
“Hello, Daisy,” a voice says, breaking in upon my reverie.
Scrambling to my feet, I hurriedly toss the cards down onto the table before I greet Anders. Of all the luck, someone would catch me making these! “Yeah, uh… Hey. What brings you in here?”
“I was looking for Mr. Radcliffe.”
“He’s not up here.” I’m not sure why Anders would expect to find him here. The estate manager never seeks me out or disturbs me up here.
“Hmm. Well, some paperwork was delivered for him just now. Between you and me, I think he’s poking his nose in something that’s none of his business,” he adds, taking a few steps closer.
“What are you talking about?” I’m not sure I wish to be drawn into any gossip but I’ll admit I’m curious about the prickly estate manager.
“He’s been in touch with that Mr. Gray, your husband’s grandfather’s attorney.”
My brow furrows, remembering the dry, old attorney from our marriage at City Hall. “Why would he-”
“How’ve things been with you since the night of the ball and you’re, um… we’ve not really talked lately, have we?”
My face flushes, wondering if he’s hinting at what I think he’s hinting at. I can’t help remembering what Grant did to me in the back of the Rolls while Anders was driving. God, I hope he didn’t hear me. Ever since he brought me back to the estate the following morning, Mimi’s quiet and professional driver has been taking me places instead while Anders has been busy driving Grant back and forth to the city. I’ve been glad of it to be honest.
“No, I suppose we haven’t.”
He walks around the table. Though he’s standing a bit too close, his voice is warm, like a friend’s. “I know you’re going up to Vancouver with him at New Year’s.”
“You’ll be coming along as our driver, yes?”
“Yes. I hope you won’t feel too uncomfortable while we’re there.”
“Because they’re snooty, you mean?”
“That and… well, I’m sure you know about your husband’s history with Emilia Barclay.”
“Lincoln’s wife? She’s hosting the reception party for us. What are you referring to?”
“I shouldn’t say. Just gossip probably.”
“Anders, you mentioned it.” I wish he hadn’t but he can’t just leave me here wondering now, can he?
“Right. Well, the story goes that they had a drunken weekend fling over a ski holiday a few years back. Around your husband’s thirtieth birthday.”
A ski holiday around his birthday, this same time of year. A drunken weekend fling. I suddenly feel ill. “Grant and Emilia had an affair? But this must’ve been before she met Linc-”
“No, she was already engaged to him at the time. They’d had a tiff but they were still engaged.”
My jaw drops and I feel the bile rising up the back of my throat as I swallow hard. Grant slept with his cousin’s fiancée? What was it he told me that night he opened up about his mother? “Oh, I occasionally gave as good as I got. I’ve given him plenty of cause to hate me.”
No, I don’t believe he meant that. “How could you possibly know this?” I ask, angrily. “It sounds like stupid, mean-spirited gossip to me!” I can’t picture Mrs. Keating, Jenna or Luis saying such things. Maybe Old Vinegar Fish. Anders is mistaken.
“I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I apologize if I’ve upset you, especially when you seem much happier than you were. Please, forgive me?” Reluctantly, I nod, not trusting myself to speak. “I hope you’re not feeling so lonely now, Daisy. If you are, I hope you know you can always talk to me.”
I appreciate that he’s concerned but he has made me upset. I don’t particularly feel forgiving at the moment either and this entire conversation is making me uncomfortable. “Was that all?” I ask, dismissively.
Anders’ friendly smile turns stiff. “Yes, ma’am,” he says coolly. But then, his eyes drop to our feet. “What’s that?”
“Just leave it!” I yelp, noting one of my cards had fallen to the floor in my rush.
He doesn’t. He dips down too quickly for me to stop him, retrieving it. A slow, amused smirk appears and my whole face catches fire as he recites what’s written – “How would you discipline me if I gave you a blowjob during your video conference for work?”
His tone shifts from cool to sultry. “My, my, my, Daisy. You’ve given me something to think about when I go back to my lonesome room tonight and do my best to remember my role.” He gives me one of those cheeky winks and struts away.
Mortified, I collapse into the chair, hoping he never mentions the card or some sordid gossip about my husband and his cousin’s wife to me ever again. Why did he have to come up here if he was trying to find Mr. Radcliffe?
I gather up my cards, counting them to ensure none will be left behind and focus on what’s really bothering me. Does it matter if Grant slept with Emilia Barclay? I have no cause to be jealous over something that happened four years ago.
Except you’ll be up there visiting soon and Lincoln accused Grant of flirting with her when he was last there. Also, he wouldn’t be the man I think he is if he’d do such a thing with an engaged woman.
Convincing myself it’s all a load of crap, I shove the thought of Grant with another woman out of my mind and go in search of my grandmother.