Loved by a Duke (The Heart of a Duke #4)(53)

“Hardly day in and day out,” he said curtly. Yes, he was indeed correct.

“Very well, then, you come here every week.” Every Wednesday to be precise, as had been the case for nearly seven years now. But for the days in which he’d courted Lady Anne, he’d become a fixture in this household. She’d tired of it. “Agnes,” she called to the maid at the back corner of the parlor.

The young woman knew Daisy so well that she sprang to her feet then dashed out of the room, partially closing the door behind her. Not even the servants feared the two of them being alone. The obvious truth only fueled her rapidly increasing annoyance.

“You shouldn’t send away your maid.”

She widened her eyes. He’d chide her? “I hardly believe my reputation is at risk around you,” she said. His eyes darkened. “You speak of finding me a suitor.” His lips compressed into a hard line. “You bring Astor and then hurry him out.” She motioned to the door. “You run off Lord Danport—”

“He is a rogue.”

Daisy pointed her eyes to the ceiling. “He is not a rogue.” Quite respected by the lords and ladies, Lord Danport had hardly earned the black reputations as some of the more scandalous, outrageous rakes and scoundrels. For reasons likely connected to a familial obligation, Auric had taken it upon himself to find her suitors and judge their worthiness. All these years she’d spent loving him, and he’d devote his energies to finding her a husband. Her patience snapped. She jabbed her finger in his chest. “I do not need you to find me a husband.” Not when she’d already found one, but the stubborn lout was too blind to see her—truly see her.

He eyed her hand as though she’d jabbed him in the heart with a dull blade.

She stuck her finger into his chest once again. “I do not need,” another brother. “Your interference,” she substituted.

With an effortless grace, he captured her hand in his broad, strong hand. “Is that what I am?” he asked. “An interference?” He drew her wrist close to his mouth, and her breath caught, as for one infinitesimal beat of a heart, she believed he intended to put his lips to the sensitive skin there.

Daisy struggled to call forth words, wishing she had some flippant response that would give little indication to how desperately she longed for more of him and from him.

He ran his gaze over her face and then he fixed his unreadable stare upon her lips. In the flecks of emotion sparking in his blue eyes, she detected the same hint of desire from the moment he’d first kissed her. She tipped her head back, closing the distance between their lips, wanting his kiss, needing him in every way. Auric dipped his head lower.

Footsteps sounded in the hall and he rushed to place the sofa between them.

Frederick reappeared with another caller. “The Earl of Astor,” he announced.

Her heart dropped somewhere to the vicinity of her toes as disappointment filled her. She dropped a curtsy, aware of the young earl’s suspicious stare alternating between her and Auric. “My lady,” he greeted. “Crawford,” he said, the grudging words emerged as more of an afterthought.

“My lord,” she murmured.

Auric remained coolly silent, peering down the length of his aquiline nose at the earl—the gentleman he’d first brought by four days prior.

Lord Astor shifted, as though unnerved by the commanding duke. He did a quick survey of the room, clearly noting the absent maid.

Daisy’s skin heated as the suspicion in his gaze grew. She gave silent thanks as Agnes rushed into the room bearing a tray of tea. Or rather, another tray of tea.

“As you requested, my lady,” Agnes assured, setting her burden down on the table between Daisy and Auric. She stole a peek upward and gave a conspiratorial wink.

Auric sketched a stiff, polite bow. “I shall leave you two to your visit,” he said, his voice flat of emotion.

A protest sprang to her lips, but she swallowed it down and followed his movements as he strode from the room. Reluctantly, Daisy returned her attention to the gentleman who, by his visits, gave every indication that he’d have her for his wife. She waited for her heart to race, or for a thrill of excitement at the prospect of it.

Yet, as she slid into the seat across from the handsome, young earl, she acknowledged just how much she longed for another man, who but for that one unexpected kiss would never see her as anything more than the girl he once knew. With a forced smile, Daisy shoved aside thoughts of Auric and entertained her suitor.





Chapter 12

The following morning, seated in his breakfast room, Auric’s plate of cold ham and biscuits sat before him untouched. He scanned the pages of The Times, and he, a man who’d never before relied on gossips, read the scandal sheets. This is what he’d been reduced to. Rather, this is what she’d reduced him to. He passed the other on-dits about lords and ladies who meant nothing to him, instead focusing on one particularly lady.

The Lady DM has quite taken the ton by storm…being courted by the Earl of D.

With a curse he threw aside the page and reached for his black coffee. He blew upon the steaming hot mug and then took a tentative sip, grimacing at the bitterness of the brew, his mind in tumult over his meeting with Daisy. For some time, he’d relegated Daisy to the role of unaging child, seeing her as nothing more than the same girl he and Lionel had teased and defended with equal intensity. No more. The girl had been replaced by a tempting siren. Still, for the absence of golden ringlets and blue eyes, Daisy Laurel Meadows, his girl of the flowers, was captivating, and now every damned dandy knew as much, too.