Scandal in Spring (Wallflowers #4)(38)

“But you won’t,” Lillian argued with forceful conviction. “That’s the point. He won’t show you who he really is, he’ll deceive you. His skill in life is to find out what people want and manufacture it for them, all for his own benefit. Look at how he made himself into the son Father always wanted. Now he’s going to pretend to be the kind of man you’ve always wanted.”

“He couldn’t know that—” Daisy tried to say, but Lillian interrupted in a heedless rush, inflamed beyond the ability to have a rational exchange.

“He has no interest in you, your heart and mind, the person you are…he wants controlling shares in the company, and he sees you as the way to get them. Of course he’s trying to make you like him…he’ll charm you out of your knickers until the day after your wedding when you find out that it was all an illusion. He’s just like Father, Daisy! He’ll crush you, or turn you into someone like Mother. Is that the life you want?”

“Of course not.”

For the first time ever Daisy realized she could not talk to her older sister about something important.

There were so many things she wanted to say…that not everything Matthew Swift had said and done could have been calculated. That he could have insisted that she ride back with him to the manor and instead he had handed her over to Llandrindon without a protest. She also wanted to confide that Swift had kissed her, and that it had been glorious, and how much that had worried her.

But there was no point arguing when Lillian was in this mood. They would just chase in circles.

The silence unfolded in a smothering blanket.

“Well?” Lillian demanded. “What are you going to do?”

Standing, Daisy rubbed at a spot of dirt on her arms and said ruefully, “To start with, I think I had better take a bath.”

“You know what I meant!”

“What would you like me to do?” Daisy asked with a politeness that caused Lillian to scowl.

“Tell Matthew Swift he’s a loathsome toad and there’s no chance in hell you would ever consider marrying him!”

CHAPTER 8

“…and then she left,” Lillian said vehemently, “without telling me what she was going to do or what she really thought, and damn it all, I know there were things she left out—”

“Dear,” Annabelle interrupted gently, “are you certain you gave her the opportunity to tell you everything?”

“What do you mean? I was sitting right in front of her. I was conscious and I had two ears. What more opportunity did she need?”

Restless and unable to sleep, Lillian had discovered Annabelle was also awake after having been up with the baby. They had seen each other from the respective balconies of their rooms, and had motioned to meet downstairs. It was midnight. At Annabelle’s suggestion they went for a walk in the Marsden gallery, a long rectangular room lined with dour family portraits and priceless works of art. Clad in their dressing gowns, they meandered through the gallery with their arms linked, their pace limited by Lillian’s slow shuffle.

Lillian had found herself turning to Annabelle with increasing frequency during the course of the pregnancy. Annabelle understood what she was going through, having experienced it herself quite recently. And Annabelle’s calm presence was invariably soothing.

“What I mean,” Annabelle said, “is that you may have been so intent on telling Daisy how you felt that you forgot to ask how she felt.”

Lillian spluttered indignantly, “But she—but I—” She stopped and considered the point. “You’re right,” she admitted gruffly. “I didn’t. I was so appalled by the idea of Daisy being attracted to Matthew Swift that I suppose I didn’t really want to discuss it. I wanted to tell her what to do and then be finished with it.”

They turned at the end of the gallery and proceeded past a row of landscapes. “Do you think there has been any intimacy between them?” Annabelle asked. Seeing Lillian’s alarm, she clarified, “Such as a kiss…an embrace…”

“Oh God.” Lillian shook her head. “I don’t know. Daisy’s so innocent. It would be so easy for that snake to seduce her.”

“He is genuinely enchanted by her, in my opinion. What young man wouldn’t be? She’s a darling, and lovely and clever—”

“And wealthy,” Lillian said darkly.

Annabelle smiled. “Wealth never hurts,” she allowed. “But in this case, I think there is more to it than that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Dear, it’s obvious. You’ve seen the way they look at each other. It’s just…in the air.”

Lillian frowned. “May we stop for a moment? My back hurts.”

Annabelle complied immediately, helping her ease to one of the cushioned benches that ran down the center of the gallery. “I don’t think it will be long until the baby comes,” Annabelle murmured. “I would even venture to guess he will arrive a bit sooner than the doctor predicted.”

“Thank God. I’ve never wanted anything so much as to be unpregnant.” Lillian made a project of trying to see the tips of her slippers over the curve of her stomach. Her mind circled back to the subject of Daisy. “I’m going to be honest with her about my opinions,” she said abruptly. “I see Matthew Swift for what he is, even if she doesn’t.”