Loved by a Duke (The Heart of a Duke #4)(22)

“He will realize you’re there, Daisy.”

She stilled, staring wide-eyed out at the couples performing the intricate steps of a country reel. For a moment she imagined she’d merely thought those words in her head, or worse spoken her private thoughts aloud as she too often did.

Her mother settled a hand at her waist and gave a gentle squeeze. “He will,” she repeated, soft, for her ears alone.

She wanted to remind her mother that this certainly wasn’t the place, and assuredly not the time, to discuss her hopes, dreams, and love of Auric, the Duke of Crawford. And yet…she removed her gaze from the perfect tableau presented by the dancing couple and shifted it to her mother. How did she know? How, when she’d ceased to see Daisy these past seven years now?

The older woman gave her a knowing look. “Mothers know everything, Daisy.” She gave one slow, deliberate wink. “Someday you’ll discover that on your own. Lady Harrison is motioning to me.” Tension settled in the lines of her mouth. At one point, once upon a lifetime ago, Mama would have eagerly trotted off to gossip and titter like so many of the other matrons present. Now, she moved painfully and awkwardly through most exchanges. “Would you mind if I went and spoke with her?” For a moment, Daisy suspected her mother secretly longed for her daughter to issue some form of protest.

“Not at all,” she said softly. However, she would not truly be helping if she allowed her mother to remain inside the shell of a person she’d become. The marchioness hesitated and then, with a sigh, sailed off in a sea of sapphire blue skirts, the closest, appropriate color to the black mourning attire she adopted at home. Daisy stared contemplatively after her. How much her mother had seen through the years and how little credit Daisy had given her. There was something painfully exposing in discovering before an entire crowded ballroom that she was not as invisible as she’d believed all these years.

She looked out at the dancers once again, scanning the crowd, but only caring about one—a tall, powerful gentleman and his unworthy dance partner. Daisy found him with her gaze, all the while thinking on her mother’s handful of words that had, in effect, tossed everything Daisy had believed for seven years into upheaval. She’d believed herself invisible. Convinced herself that her mother and father didn’t see her or the hopes she carried of her very much alive soul. She had been so wrong about her mother failing to see her. If she’d been wrong of that, perhaps she’d also been wrong where Auric was concerned. Mayhap he, in fact, saw more of her than she truly believed.

Just then, he glanced over the tops of the heads of the dancers performing the steps of the country reel. Their gazes collided.

And he gave her two, slow winks.





Chapter 5

The next morning, Daisy peered out the carriage window at the passing London streets. The fashionable streets gave way to the crowded shopping district of North Bond Street and continued rolling past the fashionable lords and ladies on toward Gipsy Hill. Auric, as he’d been last evening, grinning and winking and so kind to her mother, was the sole focus of her thoughts.

She released the curtain. Since Lionel’s passing, which was the only way in which she allowed herself to think of his death, the grinning Auric, thoughtful young man of their youth had been replaced by a more somber…well, duke. She drummed her fingertips on the comfortable leather squabs of the carriage. He’d grown into the role of duke and it suited him to perfection.

Not in a good way.

Sometimes, she allowed herself to believe the man she loved was nothing more than a memory, but then when he visited and when he winked twice as he’d done last evening, she caught glimpses of the true man buried beneath propriety and proper, ducal obligations. She didn’t love Auric for the title he possessed. She loved him for a million different reasons—the least of which had to do with the silly, blasted title.

She sought the pendant, which would earn her Auric’s heart. The tiny pings of rain struck the carriage windows and made a mockery of her efforts this day. She’d not allow gray skies to deter her on this day.

“My lady, perhaps this might not be the best day for us to shop.”

“Oh fiddle.” Daisy peeled back the curtain and peered out at the dark sky. Thick gray-white rain clouds rolled overhead. “Why, it is a perfectly splendid day to shop,” she assured the nervous maid. Rainy streets meant empty streets. Blessed solitude was just what she required. Solitude and a lack of notice from polite Society. Not that Daisy was frequenting the fashionable North Bond Street shops where she’d be more likely to be viewed by said polite Society members.

The carriage lurched to a halt. In a bid to stem the reservations on her maid’s parted lips, Daisy shoved the carriage door open then hopped to the ground. Her slippered feet sank into a deep puddle. With a sigh, Daisy drew her foot out of the murky waters and shook it off. Slippers had been a deuced, bad idea. Without waiting to see if Agnes followed, Daisy hurried down the streets lined with gypsies hawking their wares.

In spite of her earlier dismissal of the rain, cold wracked her frame and she drew her cloak close to shield herself from the chilly, spring day. She weaved between various passersby while picking her way through the cobbled streets littered with refuse and touched a scented kerchief to her nose, as the smell of rotted vegetables and sugared treats melded into a sickening blend. The things a lady will do for love. She edged out of the way just as a shopkeeper hurled a bucket of slop water from the doorway of his shop. Brown water sprayed the cobblestones and marred her skirts.