Loved by a Duke (The Heart of a Duke #4)(31)

Daisy tugged her cloak closer and then continued on. He started after her, quickening his stride. She stopped alongside another large, wooden cart littered with fabrics and fripperies and said something to the vendor, an old woman with white hair. With crooked, wrinkled fingers the gypsy sifted through some of her wares. Daisy’s brow creased and she shook her head.

Then the old woman shifted items around the top of her small cart. She held up a necklace. Daisy took the gold chain. She turned it over in her hands and then shook her head, handing it back to the woman. What was the reason for that forlorn little shake? Did she not have enough funds? Did she seek something more extravagant? Neither of those suppositions fit with all he knew about her.

He folded his arms and drummed his fingertips over his forearms. Perhaps he knew her a good deal less than he’d thought. For the spirited, young girl he’d once known would not have risked all for a piece of jewelry. The romantic woman who believed—He stilled, as his thoughts churned along with infinite slowness and then sped up with a frantic speed he tried to sort through. A romantic woman, who believed in love, however, would risk her safety and come out alone without the benefit of a chaperone.

With the distance between them, he still managed to detect those lush, red lips turning up in a smile. An insidious thought slipped into his mind—of some bounder, the gentleman she likely even now came to meet, claiming that mouth, exploring it…

Rage that felt very much like jealousy coursed through him, licked away rational thought, until he saw, felt, and breathed green. He grappled for control. The idea of him being jealous over Lady Daisy Meadows was preposterous. Auric had an obligation to Lionel and that was the sole reason for this mind-numbing fury. Daisy clearly had little care for her safety, but Auric owed this much to Lionel. Yet, why did the desire to take apart the nameless suitor with his bare hands remain? With fury in his steps, he strode over to her, closing the remaining distance between them. He planted himself behind her. “What have we here?”

A startled shriek escaped Daisy as she spun around. She shot a fist out, connecting with a solid punch to his nose.

He blinked as blood trailed a path down his lips. By God, she’d punched him. His stomach pitched while the thick, sticky blood seeped from his nose.

“Auric!” The horrified shock stamped on Daisy’s face drove back all remembrances of that gruesome night. “My goodness, you startled me.”

And he knew he must look like the very biggest lackwit, but standing there, blood pouring from his nose, Auric grinned.



Oh, blast!

Daisy slapped a hand over her mouth. Her heart still hammered from the shock of Auric’s sudden, unexpected appearance. “I punched you,” she blurted. And then registered the crimson drops staining his fingers.

Auric fumbled around the inside of his cloak and withdrew a kerchief. He pressed it to his nose and flinched. “Indeed,” he drawled, sounding far more humorous than the situation warranted.

The old vendor held out a small scrap of fabric. Daisy collected the cloth from the old woman. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as a wave of guilt flooded her. “I’m so sorry,” she said on a rush. And she was. But still… “You startled me.” A man hadn’t any business going about sneaking up on a lady, either.

He continued to hold his embroidered kerchief to his injury. “You deliver quite the punch, my lady. Gentleman Jackson himself would be impressed by your efforts.”

Daisy plucked the bloodstained kerchief from his fingers and stuffed it into her reticule. She handed him the one given her by the gypsy. “Lionel,” Daisy supplied. She fished around her reticule and handed several coins over to the old woman who took the small fortune with wide-eyes. When Auric’s eyebrows dipped, she clarified, “Lionel taught me. He said all ladies should know how to properly defend themselves.” As though he’d somehow known he’d not be there to see to that role himself.

“I do not believe Lionel imagined you requiring such skills while shopping.” He dipped his head close to hers. “Without a chaperone. Again.” His breath fanned her lips with a delicious scent of brandy and mint. The sensual masculinity of him washed over her and warmed her through.

Her lids fluttered as, for one span of a heartbeat, she imagined he intended to kiss her, here, in the muddied streets of London for all to see. Which was really rather foolish because the proper, powerful Duke of Crawford would never do something as scandalously wonderful as kissing her, Daisy Meadows, in the streets of London, for all to— “Daisy?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you have something in your eye?”

Her eyes flew open and her skin burned at the odd tilt to Auric’s head as he studied her. The vendor held over another cloth. “Er…” She waved off the gesture. “No.”

His chestnut eyebrows dipped further.

“Er…that is…I do not have anything in my eye.” Only, how else to explain the silly fluttering of her lashes. “Or I may have,” she said on a rush, her mouth moving faster than her mind. “But no longer. I think I quite managed to…” Stop talking, Daisy Meadows. Stop talking. Her words trailed off as he continued to study her around the stained fabric of his cloth. “I’m all right,” she said on a sigh. The wind tugged at her cloak and she pulled it close.

“What are you doing?” he asked somberly.