His Lordship's True Lady (True Gentlemen #4)(4)

A pleasure dome, compared to small talk and aspic.

“We simply can’t find her,” Lord Grampion announced. “Daisy is very clever at choosing hiding places, and I despair of locating her when she doesn’t want to be found.”

“Where have you looked?” Lily asked as a curtain twitched in the absence of any breeze.

“We’re searching the house from top to bottom, the maids are starting in the cellars, the footmen in the attics. Nobody will sleep a wink until Daisy is once again tucked safely in her bed.”

Lily pointed to the curtain, and Grampion nodded.

“She must matter to you very much, my lord, for you to leave your guests and set your entire staff to searching.”

“Of course she matters to me. She’s the dearest child, and I’m responsible for her happiness and well-being.”

His lordship was clearly not playacting. In the space of a week, Daisy had captured his heart, or at least his sense of duty. Many daughters commanded less loyalty from their blood relatives, and nieces were fortunate to have a roof over their heads.

As Uncle Walter so kindly reminded Lily at every opportunity.

“Do you think she might be lost?” Lily asked as his lordship silently stalked across the room. “It’s so very dark out tonight. Not a sliver of a moon in the sky.”

“Daisy is too clever to be lost,” Grampion said, pushing back the curtain. “But she’s not too clever to be found.”

A small blond child sat hunched on a window seat. She peered up at the earl, saying nothing. Most parents would have launched into a vociferous scold. Grampion instead sat beside the child and tucked her braid over her shoulder.

“I couldn’t sleep,” the girl said, ducking her head. “I miss home.”

“So do I,” the earl replied. “Are your feet cold?”

Bare toes peeked out from beneath the hem of a linen nightgown. “Yes.”

The earl scooped her up and settled her in his lap. “You gave me a fright, Daisy. Another fright, and you promised not to do this again.”

She sat stiffly in his arms, like a cat who had pressing business to be about in the pantry. “Will you beat me?”

“Never.”

He should probably not have admitted that, and Lily should not be witnessing a moment both awkward and intimate. She took a step back, and the child’s gaze swung to her.

“Who’s she?”

Grampion rose with the girl in his arms. “Miss Lily Ferguson, may I make known to you Miss Amy Marguerite Evers, my ward. Daisy, this is Miss Lily.”

He’d chosen informal address, which made sense. “Hello, Daisy. The earl was beside himself with anxiety for you.”

“Worried,” Grampion said. “I was worried, and now I’m taking you up to bed, young lady.”

“May I have a story, please?”

Grampion should refuse this request, because naughty behavior should be punished rather than rewarded.

“His lordship has many guests who will all remark his absence,” Lily said, holding the door open. “I know a few good stories, though, and will stay with you until you fall asleep.”

Grampion led the way up two flights of stairs, pausing only to ask a footman to call off the search. The nursery was lavishly comfortable, but all the furnishings looked new, the toys spotless and overly organized on the shelves.

Where were the girl’s brothers, when her toys wanted a few dings and dents?

“You will behave for Miss Lily,” his lordship said. “Do not interrupt to ask why nobody has ever seen a dragon, or how dragons breathe fire without getting burned.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Try to go to sleep,” Grampion went on, laying the child on her bed and brushing a hand over her brow. “Miss Ferguson, a word with you, please.”

“I’ll be right back,” Lily told the girl.

His lordship plucked a paisley shawl from the back of a rocking chair and led Lily into the corridor.

“One story,” he said, draping the shawl around Lily’s shoulders. “No more, or you’ll still be reading when the sun comes up. And you may slap me for asking, but are you enamored of Lord Stemberger?”

The shawl was silk, the feel of it lovely against Lily’s skin. What sort of bachelor earl kept silk shawls for the nursery maids?

“I am in no fashion enamored of Lord Stemberger. Why?”

“He…” Grampion appeared to become fascinated with the gilt scrollery framing a pier-glass across the corridor. “He did not conduct himself as a gentleman ought at table. Sitting beside him, you might not have noticed where his gaze strayed, but I will not invite him back. He lacks couth.”

Lily approved of Grampion very much for speaking up when many other men would have looked the other way or, more likely, guffawed in their clubs over Stemberger’s coarse behavior.

Grampion lacked warmth, but he was honorable, and to an orphaned child, he’d been kind.

“See to your guests, my lord,” Lily said. “I’ll tend to the dragons and be down shortly.”

“Miss Lily?” came a soft question from the child’s bedroom. “Are you coming?”

Grampion bowed over Lily’s hand, his grasp warm in the chilly corridor. “One story. Promise me. The child needs to know I mean what I say.”