Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Iam in terrible trouble.
Daisy and the Duke had not spent more than two minutes with one another since she had arrived at the house party. But when Daisy strolled out towards the gazebo and found him sitting there all alone, she could do nothing but stare at him.
He is breathtaking.
The late afternoon sun was gradually dipping its way toward the horizon line, casting shadows across the Duke’s face. He sat motionless, like a hunk of granite rock, and allowed nature to consume him and alter his features. The light struck his eyes, bringing forth the sparkles she most admired.
Her breath came shallowly as she continued to look at him. Meanwhile, his expression remained impassive.
Does he want to be alone? Am I intruding?
She just could not tell.
Daisy blinked at his blank face, wondering what he was thinking, or if he wanted her to go away. Just as she thought it, he moved, making a space for her on the bench.
She nodded in thanks and sat down, and they both stared at the parterre of flowers before them in silence.
“It was a mistake, I know it. I’m sorry,” Daisy finally blurted, unable to take it anymore.
He turned slowly to stare at her. “What was a mistake?”
“The kiss.” She shook her head. “Obviously, it was a mistake.” She turned to him, trying to smile.
“I completely understand that. It happened weeks ago, and we have yet to speak of it.” She knew she was rambling, but could not stop herself now that she had begun.
“I ought not mention it now. I’m sure it would be best if I held my tongue… my tongue…but…oh!”
She cringed as she realized how her words had tumbled out of her and she had stopped speaking at the most inconvenient moment.
“Oh.” He said nothing more.
“Yes…” She cleared her throat. “You don’t have to worry that I will… get ideas. I remember our agreement.”
The Duke’s eyebrows rose. “Our agreement. Of course,” he mumbled at first, then spoke in a more even tone, “nothing’s changed. We’ll proceed as before.”
Daisy felt a spark of hope deep within her chest wither. “Yes. I thought you might say that. We will act as if the kiss never happened.”
The Duke paused, frowning momentarily. Then, he nodded, “Precisely.”
She rose, flicking a brief glance at him before forcing her gaze away. “I’ll leave you alone. Good day, Your Grace,” she said, and dropped into a quick curtsy.
He stood as well, inclining his head in return.
Daisy did not wait for anything more. She turned and walked away too quickly, her steps a fraction uneven on the gravel.
Her chest felt tight, though she kept her face carefully composed.
I should have known. I should not have mentioned the kiss. It clearly meant more to me than it did to him.
Ahead, she caught sight of Lydia. Relief came too fast, almost sharp, and she hurried toward her before she could reconsider leaving the Duke behind.
Edmund continued to sit at the gazebo, unsettled by Daisy’s words.
He didn’t know if she was right about their kiss being a mistake. He was in two minds about it. On the one hand, he was relieved that they’d cast that aside.
On the other hand, he still could not get her out of his mind, and he wished he could kiss her again.
A white moth with black speckles flitted mere inches from his nose and the sight of the winged creature brought with it thoughts of Mary.
Their relationship had been so uncomplicated…
easy. Free of inconvenient desires and runaway feelings.
They held each other in high regard and shared a deep friendship.
Like the moth, they had soared on a breeze until fate stepped in and took her away from him.
But with Daisy…matters are not so easy.
“Ah, there you are. Hiding from the hoi polloi, as always?”
Edmund turned and found Winston approaching.
“What do you want? Have the debutantes not fawned at your feet enough today?” he asked his friend.
Winston laughed and took the space that Daisy had vacated minutes ago. “No, I have no interest in getting tangled up in a marriage.” He shuddered. “I still have a lot of wild oats to sow.”
Edmund smirked. “Ah, the joys of being a bachelor.”
Winston stared keenly at him. “Is something bothering you, Edmund?”
He sighed. “I apologize. I am… tense, I suppose.”
“Care to share why?”
Edmund could not think of any situation where he might share with Winston the confusion he was feeling about a kiss.
Edmund shook his head. “I would rather not.”
Winston nodded sagely. “I saw Lady Daisy practically running from this spot. Did something happen between the two of you?”
Edmund slid him a sidelong glare. “Did I not just say I do not wish to speak on it?
“You did. And as usual, I chose to ignore you. Must be my bachelor tendencies.”
Edmund just gave him a look that was laced with annoyance. “You see why I refrain from confiding in you?”
Winston snorted. “What nonsense. You confide in me all the time.”
Edmund groaned. “More evidence of my bad judgement.” Winston chuckled gamely, but now, Edmund could not find the levity at the moment.
Later that day, Lady Archworth called all those gathered in the garden to attention.
“I do hope you were not imagining that the games would be suspended for the weekend,” she said, eyes bright with satisfaction. “I have arranged another to occupy you all.”
A ripple went through the congregation.
Daisy let out a quiet breath. “I had hoped for a little time to recover from—” She stopped herself, glancing away.
“From your encounter with the Duke?” Lydia supplied, too promptly.
Daisy shot her a look. “From the general exhaustion of it all.”
Lydia’s expression softened, though her tone remained teasing. “You are not managing it very well.”
“I am handling it perfectly well,” Daisy refuted at once, then regretted the speed of her response.
Lydia gave her arm a small squeeze. “Come. Let us hear what fresh mischief the Dowager Marchioness has devised before you decide you are in need of rescue.”
Daisy huffed a reluctant laugh despite herself and turned back toward the house, where Lady Archworth was still speaking.
“Today’s game will involve Graces. I’m sure you’re all familiar with it, though, I’m not sure you’ve all played it. So here is my lady’s maid, Antoinette, who is going to give an explanation and a demonstration.”
Daisy watched keenly as Antoinette took two sticks and a footman took another two. They moved ten paces apart, with Antoinette holding the sticks and also a hoop.
She turned to the crowd. “This is not an easy game to master. One of you throws the hoop, like this.”
She took the hoop and one rod in each hand and placed the hoop over both rods, so they were inside the hoop.
She then let the hoop slide slightly down the rod, before crossing the rod in the shape of an X.
“Is this fair?” Daisy murmured to Lydia. “What if you have no dexterity, like me?”
Lydia patted her arm consolingly. “Pay attention, dear. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.”
Antoinette had the hoop on the lower triangle of the X shape. She then pulled the rods apart, and the hoop slid up and shot into the air, towards the footman. The footman caught hold of the hoop with his rods.
“Oh, that is going to be hard to do,” Lydia agreed with a wince.
“The first couple to successfully catch ten hoops wins the round,” Lady Archworth announced.
“This will take us all day,” Daisy muttered under her breath.
“Go on,” Lydia said lightly. “Find your beau. I am sure you will manage. You are still ahead of most of the field.”
Daisy let out a long breath. “I do not know how I am to look at him.”
“Like this,” Lydia said at once.
She stepped closer and tilted her face up to Daisy’s, holding her gaze with exaggerated seriousness.
Daisy blinked, then gave a helpless laugh, stepping back. “You are rather silly, on occasion, my dear friend.”
“And you adore it always,” Lydia said, smiling.
Daisy smiled in return despite her worry over the game and turned her attention back toward the upcoming competition.
Harry had come in search of Edmund. He had finished with his studies for the day and was restless with energy. The moment he saw the couples gathering for the game, he bounced on his heels.
“I want to play too, Papa!”
Edmund shook his head at once. “You cannot. This is for the adults. Go and sit with Mr. Oswalt.”
Harry’s face fell into a pout, as if the world had wronged him personally.
Edmund was about to call Mr. Oswalt over himself when Daisy appeared at his side.
She moved easily, as she always seemed to, as though she belonged wherever she chose to stand.
“Good day, Lord Harry. I was hoping to find you at this party.” She smiled winsomely.
Harry forgot his disappointment immediately and threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her legs.
“Lady Daisy!”
Daisy gave a light laugh, the sound unguarded and bright.
Edmund watched their interaction keenly.
It struck him again how completely she had changed in the presence of the boy. The composure she wore elsewhere loosened, as if she did not think to defend herself when Harry was around. This sudden failure to guard herself made Daisy seem more radiant, somehow, and livelier.
“I am glad to see you, too, Lord Harry,” she said.
Harry pulled back to look up at her. “I want to play this game, but Papa says I cannot.”
Her expression twisted, and Daisy allowed a small frown to replace her grin. “I’m afraid he is right. But you may stand with me and cheer. After the game, I will find you something better to do. A game just for you. Would that suit you?”
Harry brightened instantly. “Yes!” Then, as if remembering himself, he leaned in and cupped a hand around his mouth. “I will help you win, my lady. You deserve to win,” he whispered.
Daisy’s grin returned. “That is very kind of you, sweetheart,” she whispered back.
Edmund felt his chest warm up as he watched them.
Harry looked at her as if she were the most interesting person in the world. And Edmund, for his part, could not bring himself to disagree with his son’s astute observation.
The game began, and as she’d predicted, Daisy fumbled the first few throws.
“Come on, Lady Daisy, you can do it!” Harry coached. He was true to his word as he cheered her on from the sidelines.
“I know I can,” she muttered.
Then, she fitted the hook one more time on her crisscrossed rods. Brow furrowed with concentration, she widened the rods, and the hook flew in the air.
The Duke caught it with ease.
“Hooray!” Harry yelled.
Daisy laughed. “All right, pray that I catch the one your father throws,” she said just as Edmund aimed the hook towards her.
She lifted her rods, and to her surprise, the hook landed right on one of them.
“Oh!” she cried in surprise.
Harry laughed.
Snaking the other rod inside the hook, Daisy prayed that her earlier success would be repeated. She let the hook fly, as both she and Harry encouraged it with murmured words.
The Duke leaped up and caught it in both rods. Both Daisy and Harry jumped up and down in glee.
“Don’t let yourself get too carried away,” the Duke called. “We’ve only caught two. We have eight more to go. Time is of the essence.”
“Yes, right.” Daisy moved away from Harry and clutched her rods. “I’m ready.”
The game continued with more misses than hits, but Daisy looked around and realized they were doing no worse than the other teams. The Duke’s dexterity was really making up for her lack thereof.
She could not help thinking how well they complemented each other.
Where one was lacking, the other one picked up the slack.
It was the perfect partnership.
Don’t let yourself get too carried away.
It was a formal partnership, meant to win the games. Nothing more.
Harry was a steadfast cheerleader, one time actually moving Daisy’s arms so that she was in the right place to catch the hook. She looked down at him and winked.
He put a finger on his lips. “Shh.”
She grinned and nodded to him before focusing on passing the hook back to Edmund.
There was something about the sun shining into his eyes that made her feel as if she could see into his soul.
He flicked his hair away from his face at one point, and beads of sweat landed on the grass where they glistened like tiny diamonds.
“Just one more,” the Duke called.
“One more,” Daisy echoed.
“Just one more!” Harry chimed in eagerly.
Daisy smiled, bracing herself to catch the hook. Harry braced himself as well. Edmund looked from one to the other and shook his head. He let the hook fly, and Daisy watched it come. She lifted her rods eagerly to get the hook on the first try.
The hook fell to the ground.
“Oh, fiddlesticks!” she cried.
Harry slapped his head and groaned dramatically.
“It’s all right. Throw it back,” the Duke said softly, looking around carefully. “We can still win this.”
“Yes, we can.” Daisy nodded resolutely before picking up the hook, fixing it on her rods, and preparing to throw it.
She looked at the Duke, giving him a firm nod before letting the hook fly.
He caught it perfectly between his rods.
“Oh!” Daisy exhaled. “Is that ten?”
“Yes, that’s ten, my lady,” the footman who was acting as their umpire answered.
“Hooray!” Harry shouted, jumping up and down, fists thrown in the air.
Daisy’s first instinct was to go to the Duke, to step closer and savor the moment. She stopped herself, standing where she was instead, smiling, rods held loosely at her side.
Harry did not hesitate. He ran straight to his father and hugged him around the middle, full of overwhelming enthusiasm.
“Well done, Papa,” Harry chirped. “You have won the day.”
The Duke looked up and met Daisy’s gaze. In an unwavering voice, he said loudly, “We have won.”
It was a small consolation, but Daisy accepted it.
I might never win the Duke’s heart, but at least I have bested the game for today.