Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Finally, the final event of the competition had arrived.
Daisy was both relieved and saddened. In spite of everything, she had managed to enjoy herself immensely during the games and even discovered hitherto unknown depths within herself.
She picked up the emerald green gown that Edmund had gifted her, with gold accents on the shoulders and just below the breasts. It was exquisite and the only choice, really. She had nothing else as magnificent in her wardrobe.
She went to her jewelry box, sad that she only had paste jewels and nothing real. When she thought of her mother and everything she’d left behind, all sold now to pay her father’s debts, Daisy felt something like despair.
She knew that even if she won the competition and paid her father’s debts, he’d just accrue new ones in no time and be back to square one. That was why she hoped to leave London as soon as possible and make a life elsewhere.
“I must go,” she told her reflection, even if it would break her heart to leave so many people behind who cared for her and people that she loved deeply in return.
Earlier, Amina had twisted her hair up in a complicated plait and put on some rice powder and color on her lips. Slipping on the dress, she added some green paste earrings and a gold chain she’d managed to hide from her father.
Taking up her cloak, she went downstairs just in time for the Viscount Kerwood’s carriage to draw up at the door to pick her up. She took a deep breath and rushed toward the place where Lydia and her parents waited.
Whatever happens tonight, I shall find a way to enjoy myself.
Edmund stared as Daisy walked into the ballroom. She was wearing the green gown- the one he’d had made for her. He could not help but be proud of how perfectly it suited her. She looked marvelous.
He was staring so hard that he forgot he wasn’t alone.
“Blackvale?”
He turned to see that the Duke of Dawnhurst was watching him curiously. “Yes?”
“Is anything the matter? You seem lost in thought.”
Edmund smiled. “Not at all. I was simply… admiring my fiancée.”
Dawnhurst flicked a glance at his wife, who was across the room, speaking with his aunt. “Yes, I can well sympathize with that sentiment,” he said with a half-smile.
Edmund’s eyes shifted over the Duke’s scar, not really seeing it. He knew that Dawnhurst had been self-conscious about it years ago, but he seemed to have settled the matter in his mind.
“I take it you are pleased with the match you made.”
“More than pleased,” Dawnhurst said immediately.
Edmund nodded in understanding. He was beginning to think that a partnership based on trust and understanding could lead to more…much more. His eyes slid towards Daisy once again.
He saw the Earl of Dunfield stop and say something to her before pointing at her dance card. Edmund frowned. “Excuse me, Dawnhurst. I must go.”
Dawnhurst nodded, his expression understanding. “Go on and defend your lady. It is time I retrieved mine anyway.” He nodded to Edmund and began to weave his way over to his wife.
Edmund made a beeline for Daisy. She looked up at him with a gasp when he appeared at her side. “You look lovely,” he said simply.
Her eyes widened slightly, and she blushed, before lowering her lashes to hide her eyes. “Thank you.”
Another gentleman approached. His eyes were fixed on Daisy as he reached for the dance card dangling from her wrist. Daisy smiled, stepping forward to hand it over, but Edmund intercepted her mid-motion.
His hand clamped firmly around her wrist, stopping her short. He did not wait for the gentleman to take the card; instead, Edmund tugged the silk ribbon directly from Daisy’s wrist.
The other man blinked, startled. “Your Grace?” he said, his voice high with surprise.
“Her dance card is full,” Edmund declared loudly, hoping his voice would carry and he would not need to repeat himself or banish any further suitors.
He stepped directly into the man’s vicinity and looked him in the eye, effectively shielding Daisy from view.
“She will not be accepting any other partners. I suggest you try your luck elsewhere.”
He heard Daisy’s gasp behind him but ignored it for the moment.
Without waiting for a reply, Edmund turned his back on the gentleman, dismissing him entirely. He pulled Daisy close, a possessive hand resting lightly on her waist.
Opening the booklet, he did not just write his name; he drew thick, heavy lines through every single remaining blank space on the card. He inked his own name over the top, claiming the first dance and the last dance.
He looked up, his eyes scanning the room. “I feel sure you’ll be thirsty the rest of the evening. Never fear, I shall make sure you are well supplied with sustenance. Then I imagine you’ll be tired; When that happens, I’ll find you a seat.”
Daisy merely gaped at him but made no protest at his plan to monopolize her company. In the eyes of the ton, they were betrothed after all, and he had no intention of letting another man breathe her air, let alone touch her hand.
The orchestra began to play, and it was time for the first dance. Edmund held his hand out to Daisy, waiting for her to take it.
“May I have this dance, Lady Daisy?” he murmured, his voice laced with the soft yet authoritative inquiry.
She stared into his eyes, her breath catching in her throat, before taking the hand he offered and letting him lead her to the dance floor. They stood facing each other, and he knew she was as aware of her surroundings as he was—in other words, not at all.
“You look breathtaking,” he whispered, stepping closer than propriety allowed as they waited for the opening measure.
Daisy blinked up at him, her lips parting slightly. “Your Grace, people are watching…”
“Let them,” he whispered, his gaze locked on hers.
I could get lost in her eyes.
The music started, and he reached out, their fingers touching as they circled each other, curtsied, and then went the other way. There was one more couple in their circle, but Edmund could not have named them even with a pistol to his head.
He could describe in detail the feel of her hand in his as well as the glittering in her bright green eyes that outshone the most garish jewel in the room.
He could write sonnets about her golden hair gleaming in the candlelight, exuding a healthy glow in its complicated knot.
She was exquisite, and he was unrepentant in his need to openly admire her.
“It is difficult to focus on the steps,” he murmured as the choreography brought them together again, “when all I can see is you.”
Daisy’s cheeks deepened into a vivid crimson. “I... I only know that the room seems far away when we speak like this.”
He could see by the blush on her cheeks and deduced that meant she was just as taken with him as he was with her.
There had to be a way to control the way he felt, but he couldn’t see how.
Looking into her eyes was like tumbling down the edge of a cliff, knowing full well that the rocks were waiting below, but at that moment, it felt like flying.
Even though he would smash himself into a thousand pieces at the bottom, and he’d have no one but himself to blame, Edmund could no more stop himself from fawning over Daisy than he could slow the tumbling descent.
The dance was over all too soon. Edmund took her hand and led her to the drinks table.
“Lady Daisy. How lovely to see you here.”
The Duke had just stepped away for a moment, and Daisy had taken this instance to catch her breath.
She had spent the entire evening by Edmund’s side.
They danced. They laughed. They had talked a great deal about Lord Harry and how he had not yet forgotten that she’d promised to join them one more time for a freshly caught fish breakfast.
So, as the ball wound to a close and she anticipated his return so they might share the final dance with one another, Daisy was taken by surprise when Lord Dulforth presented himself instead.
“What?” she asked, certain she was mishearing him. The Baron stood before her, looking as self-satisfied as ever. This evening, he had shaved his upper lip clean, and Daisy was stunned not to see his mustache wriggling as he spoke.
“May I have this dance?”
“My dance card is full, my apologies,” she retorted hurriedly.
She had successfully ignored Lord Dulforth for so long that she hated to have her streak broken now just because they were surrounded by others in a congested ballroom.
His eyes narrowed. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t you check again? It would be rather unfortunate if your father were embarrassed because you didn’t do his friend the courtesy of dancing with him.”
She gritted her teeth and nodded. “You’re right, my lord.” She rose on her tiptoes discreetly and checked the throng for Edmund. She could not find the Duke and immediately felt his absence. “I think I have the next dance free.”
Dulforth smiled. “Good.” He grabbed her hand and led her to the dance floor.
She walked stiffly, trying to stay as far away from him as possible.
When they reached a place near the top of the reel, he looked toward Lady Archworth and said, “Has the Dowager Marchioness discovered your subterfuge yet?”
Daisy just looked away, without saying a word.
Dulforth laughed. “The silent treatment? How droll. Do you think I care whether you speak to me or not?”
The music began and he reached for her hand. It was appropriate. Others in the line were doing the same. But Daisy cringed. She could not wriggle away from his grasp quickly enough.
Lord Dulforth did not seem to notice the contempt radiating off her for he continued speaking, “Soon you shall be at my mercy, and trust that I shall repay every slight tenfold.”
She took a deep breath and tried to stop her hands from shaking.
“The time has come for me to call in my debt,” he explained. “And there’s not a thing you can do about it. We both know you lack the funds to satisfy what is owed, and as for finding yourself a rich husband who might rescue you from…”