Loved by a Duke (The Heart of a Duke #4)(38)

He gave his head a clearing shake. “What have you based your…?” Daisy, as she’d been at Gipsy Hill, moving between gypsy carts, flitted through his mind. “…your…” The air left him on a slow exhale. He’d shoved aside the idea of Daisy with another gentleman when he’d first discovered her in the unfashionable end of London. Only now, her outrageous actions coupled with Wessex’s words painted the possibility in a greater light.

“What?”

He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I discovered her at Gipsy Hill.” Twice. “Unchaperoned.” She’d claimed to be in search of a necklace. But of course a woman of Daisy’s sense and romantic spirit would not venture into that end of London just to look for an inexpensive bauble. No, what else would cause a lady to do something so insensible, other than a clandestine meeting between two lovers? Auric’s knee jumped reflexively, knocking the table. By God, he would kill the man dead.

“Gipsy Hill?”

Auric gave a terse nod.

The viscount sank back in his seat, flummoxed. He stroked his chin. “There was also the Harrison’s ball,” he declared, more to himself.

Tension coursed through Auric’s frame. His thoughts and emotions were blending and blurring in a mass of confusion. “What of it?” With Wessex’s confirmation of his own earlier suspicions, he was forced to consider all manner of things he’d rather not—about Daisy, her future, his obligation to see to that future.

Wessex swiped his glass off the table once again and took a sip. He set it down hard and, for a long while, said nothing so that Auric believed he didn’t intend to speak. Then, “She was studying a gentleman.”

“Who?” he bit out.

“Oh, I’d merely teased her, not believing, not thinking that she was in fact—”

“Who?” he said loud enough to earn curious stares from those around them. He waited until the nosy noblemen nearby returned their attention to their own drink and company.

“That is the problem, Crawford. I’ve questioned the lady several times in search of the bounder’s identity. To no avail.” Wessex lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. “But if he were honorable…”

Daisy would not be running off to meet him on the streets of London and his identity would not be a secret.

Wessex set his glass down. He turned his hands over and made a show of studying his palms. “She’s unwed. Do you know how many Seasons she’s had?”

“Two.” They both responded simultaneously.

“That is correct.” The viscount nodded. After the marquess’ passing, Daisy had disappeared and, unfortunately, when she’d reentered Society almost two years later, the dandies in the market for a wife didn’t realize the rareness of Daisy. She was the hidden pendant amidst the other baubles—only no one had bothered to see what was right before them. Her unwedded state and romantic spirit accounted for why a romantic young woman such as Daisy would throw away logic and reason to pursue a worthless bounder in the rainy streets of London.

Wessex held his gaze, intruding on his turbulent thoughts. “The marchioness has forgotten her existence.”

“That is preposterous,” Auric scoffed. He remembered the older woman tugging Daisy behind her at Lord and Lady Harrison’s ball. “Her mother has always paid a good deal of attention to Daisy.”

“Perhaps at one time, but not since…” His blue eyes darkened a shade nearly black. “Not since… By the way, what the hell did happen to your eye?”

Ah, yes, the impressive purplish black bruise he now wore, a credit to Daisy’s efforts on Gipsy Hill. Auric waved his hand. “It matters not.”

Fortunately, Wessex was content to let his question rest, rightfully focusing on Daisy. “It occurred to me last evening, at Lord and Lady Windermere’s, we had an obligation to see after her, Crawford, and we failed.”

The blade of guilt twisted all the more at Marcus’ reminder of another wrong Auric had committed. First, in bringing Lionel to that hell and costing the man his life, and his parents their future, and now…Daisy. They’d both had an obligation to protect and defend her.

Wessex seemed to agree for he continued. “We’ve not only failed Daisy, we’ve failed Lionel. It occurs to me that one of us,” he sucked in an audible breath, “must do right by her.” He gripped his crystal glass so tight his knuckles whitened. “We owe that much to Lionel.”

The other man’s meaning was clear. They should find her a husband. Auric’s hands tightened reflexively over the arms of his chair. He didn’t know why he should care if Daisy Meadows wed, as long as she was wed to a decent enough chap who’d care for her and mayhap gave her a handful of children. Yet he cared. Very much. Something fiery and hot licked at his insides, something that felt very much like jealousy…which was, of course, rather ridiculous, he’d no right to be jealous and certainly not over— “Crawford? Are you listening to me?”

He cleared his throat. “You were saying?” He picked up his brandy, suddenly appreciating the need for fine, French spirits at a time like this.

He could no longer be the coward. He told himself it had been a sense of pity. He’d seen the card devoid of gentleman’s names and something had stirred in his breast. Perhaps it was guilt. For if Lionel had lived, he’d surely have managed to bring some deserving gentleman up to scratch to not only partner young Daisy, but wed her.