Loved by a Duke (The Heart of a Duke #4)(50)

“She did look rather splendid in her midnight black gown, but no, that was not it.”

She discreetly pinched his arm. “Do stop being deliberately va—?”

“Your parents’ annual summer picnic. You stared down your bullies and set the table ablaze with great strength.”

Her heart started funnily in her breast. Then she drew in a breath in an attempt to calm the fluttering in her belly. “Of course you recall that day,” she muttered. “Who wouldn’t remember a table fire?” And yet, this was now the second time he’d recalled the memory. So perhaps it meant more to him, as well?

His lopsided grin fit with the gentleman who’d glowered at the Lady Leticia bullies of the world. “Yes, it is rather hard to forget the shouts and screams of some of Society’s leading peers as the fire licked at the tablecloth. Except that isn’t what I remember of that day, Daisy.” He stared at a point over her head. “You were the only one not shouting,” he said softly to himself. “You had this faraway expression.”

Because, it was the moment she’d fallen in love with him, and even though it should surely bring her some hurt that all the years she’d joined him and Lionel, Auric had, in fact, found her a bothersome bit of baggage…until that much later day when she’d hovered on the cusp of girlhood and womanhood.

The set drew to a close. They glided to a gentle stop. As the couples about them politely clapped and then shuffled from the dance floor, they stood locked in a silent, intense scrutiny of one another. Daisy dropped a curtsy and allowed him to lead her back to the edge of the ballroom. It did not escape her notice that instead of returning her to the earlier spot she’d occupied, he sought out her mother.

“Where is your mother?” he searched the crowd. It was no secret to anyone, with the exception of Auric it seemed, that her mother hovered on the fringe of activity, wan and hopelessly withdrawn. Daisy gave a little shrug. “Ah, I see her,” he noted.

She pursed her lips. He was likely eager to be free of her. Daisy said nothing, instead allowed him to escort her to the white, Doric column where her mother stood.

The marchioness’ usually lifeless eyes lit. “My dear boy, how lovely it is to see you.” She gave them such a pointedly knowing look that Daisy shifted on her feet praying that subtle movement would somehow cause a shift in the floor and in turn swallow her whole.

“The pleasure is mine, Lady Roxbury,” he responded, flawless, proper, and always respectful.

“I gather you’ve quite enjoyed your visits with Daisy?”

She swallowed a groan, her skin prickling with the ghost of a smile on Auric’s lips. The great lout was having a good deal of fun at her expense. “Undoubtedly,” Daisy muttered. “Or, you can surely say, indeed,” she supplied for him. His smile widened and her heart raced all the faster.

Lord Astor chose that precise moment to stride over, coming to a stop before them. The easy camaraderie between her and Auric was gone as he turned once more into the remote, polished duke. The two men eyed each other a long moment, their gazes doing a form of inventory of the other. “Crawford,” the earl said hastily, breaking the silence. They exchanged stiff, polite pleasantries and then Astor turned his attention to Daisy’s mother. “Good evening, my lady.”

A small moue of displeasure formed on the older woman’s lips. “Lord Astor, a pleasure.” Though by the obvious disappointment underscoring her tone, those words sounded anything but. “I trust your mother is well?”

“Indeed well,” he said quickly. He held out his elbow for Daisy.

She stared at his arm for a long moment. The strains of the quadrille filled her mind as she tried to sort out why he had his arm extended. “Our dance,” she blurted. Her skin warmed. “Er, uh, yes, very well,” she said, hastily placing her fingers upon his sleeve.

As the earl guided her onto the dance floor, her neck prickled with the heated intensity of Auric’s stare. Odd, until this moment she’d not given much thought to needing that heart pendant worn by the Lady Stanhope.

Another visit to Gipsy Hill would be in order, and most especially after Auric’s admissions this night.





Chapter 11

The tick tock of the long-case clock filled the quiet, punctuated by the rapidity of Auric’s hand as he frantically wrote on the empty page of his journal.

Dear Lionel,

I have seen your sister as an obligation and nothing more than a sister for the whole of my life. My debt to you is great and for having been the reason you lost your life. I promise to see her wedded.

Those cathartic words continued to fill the pages and he found a sense of freedom in giving this, his apology for having long neglected Daisy, and more, for having desired her as he did.

Auric finished his entry and then set down his pen. He blew upon the page, drying the ink, and then a moment later, closed the book with a firm thud. With a sigh, he sat back in his seat. Since he’d taken his leave of Daisy, he’d been unable to rid himself of thoughts of her, as she’d been, and all those bastards who’d eyed her, seeing the woman transformed. He should feel an overwhelming sense of relief in knowing it wouldn’t be long for some gentleman to be brought up to scratch. He scrubbed his hand over his face.

They had not, however, appreciated her as she’d always been. They’d not seen her smile and bold spirit or infuriating cheekiness—not in the way he had. Except, have you truly seen her? Or had he relegated her to Lady Daisy Laurel Meadows, his unaging girl of the flowers? In that, he was really no different than all those other foolish fops who’d failed to see the complexly unique soul that made up Daisy. With a growl, he shoved back such nonsensical musings not liking that he’d fallen into a category with every last lord. “Do not be ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath. Furthermore, he wasn’t altogether certain why it should matter that the lords in the market for a wife had finally taken note, only that they had.