Daisy slumped on the bed.
“What a morning! If anyone had told me what would happen, I wouldn’t have bothered to drag myself from my bed.” She kept her voice low so that they were not overheard.
Pierce snorted.
“You think your morning has been bad? I’ve been up since before the crack of dawn, mucked out the stables, and taken your horse out for a ride.” He rolled his shoulders in the over-tight jacket. “I’ve had to put on a dead man’s clothes, had to listen to that old buffer Armstrong beating on about the position of the dining room cutlery, how to knock on a door in the correct manner, what tone to use when announcing visitors of any particular rank. And I’ve had to cart trays of tea all over the place. Think yourself lucky that you only had to put up with that old witch. And before you snap at me, I don’t mean your mother. Lady Elizabeth has always been perfectly charming.” He walked towards the window and sat on the chair by her desk.
Daisy looked at his pained expression. On any other day she might have been sympathetic to his plight, but not today.
“Oh don’t go on so. I have been up since before dawn too. I don’t just swan about issuing orders you know. I had household duties to contend with, and a meeting with Musgrave. Besides Armstrong isn’t so bad. At least he can carry the tea tray without nearly turning a somersault. And I am not even going to go into the delights of Robert’s mother arriving.” She took a deep breath, as if counting to ten before carrying on. “As to my mother being here, I wouldn’t rely on any favours from her now. She only liked you because you could be relied on to keep me out of the worst trouble when I was young.” Daisy countered.
Pierce let out a gentle laugh.
“Not always. Remember the time you fell in the lake? You thought you could row your own boat to join Lucas and I on a fishing expedition, but came over seasick. I nearly drowned myself hauling you out again. And what about the time you became stuck up that old oak tree when you were spying on Lucas and I wrestling? Seem to recall that being a truly epic rescue mission.”
Daisy pointed an accusing finger.
“I was not spying on you! You two beasts refused to let me join in or even watch you. I had to conduct my own research somehow so that I knew how to wrestle properly, should the need ever arise.” She lifted her chin as her cheeks flushed.
“And has it?” Pierce asked jokingly.
“Of course not, you idiot. Duchesses do not wrestle. And before you gloat about my inabilities to climb trees successfully, I only became stuck because I tore a hole in my breeches which caught upon a branch.”
Pierce grinned as he recalled her flailing arms and legs, her face turning beet red, much as it was doing that instant.
“You could have climbed out of them. I wouldn’t have minded.” He wriggled his eyebrows as his smile became wider.
Daisy rolled her eyes at him.
“Typical! As it was, half my backside was hanging out. Papa was so appalled that he sent me to finishing school after that little incident.”
Pierce suddenly became more serious.
“I remember. Summer was as boring as hell without you there. I realized that I rather enjoyed helping you out of all those scrapes.”
Did he? It was a pity he hadn’t shown it. Daisy sighed.
“But you cannot help me out of this one.” She stiffened and turned her head towards the door as hurrying footsteps passed by.
Pierce stared at Daisy’s tilted chin, her swanlike neck, so pale against the deep black dress. His eyes wandered further as he waited for the sounds in the hall to fade away. The folds of her the gown disguised a lot, but nothing yet protruded. The rumours had only just surfaced. She couldn’t be that far along. He shook his head, dispelling the gloomy thoughts that suddenly swept over him. A door shut forcefully in the distance and he lifted his eyes to her face again.
“No, maybe I can’t, but perhaps you can help me out of mine, just for a change. If it’s not too painful to talk about.” He waited for her to interrupt him, but she gave no indication that he should stop his questions. “Do you know what happened exactly at the Duke of Devonshire’s race? I was so occupied with other events in my life and in such a rush to get back to Lucas that I only heard the barest details. Since then I’ve heard nothing but rumours.” He needed to hear the truth, not some embellished tittle-tattle bandied from behind a rapidly waving fan.
The colour left Daisy’s face as she stood up and walked towards the window at the other corner of the room. It looked out over the lake. A swan swam gracefully on the water. She wondered where its partner might be, and was a little concerned before the second elegant bird appeared from the reeds. She turned back to Pierce who sat staring at her with brooding eyes.
“You already know that I wasn’t there. I only found out about Robert’s fall when the Duke of Devonshire sent for me. By the time I arrived, Robert already lay dying in a bed.”
Pierce wasn’t sure that he wanted to hear about the final minutes of her husband’s life. Instead he delayed the moment and asked another question.
“Robert? Why do you call him that? I thought his given name was James.”
Daisy shrugged.
“He bore the same name as his father so has always been called Robert by those that knew him well.”
Pierce nodded, accepting her explanation.
“So what did happen?”
She didn’t answer him immediately, but dropped into the window seat, moving the curtain back a fraction and staring out again as she appeared to gather her thoughts. Pierce watched her carefully as he waited for her account of the events. “Tell me, Daisy.”
She let the curtain drift back to its original position and lifted her gaze to his.
“All I can confirm is what he did before he left for the race, and what others have told me occurred afterwards. There is really not much to tell. We were in London for the late season, of course. Robert hadn’t told me that he had entered the race until early on the morning of the event. He told me that it was a last minute decision and that he would be staying on afterwards for a few days. He and Musgrave travelled in the carriage with the trunks, and Robert tied his stallion behind.”
Pierce raised a brow.
“He took his mount on the day of the race? He was a braver man than I. I’d want my animal to be well rested before such an event.”
Daisy let out a sigh.
“I told him it was fool hardy, but he refused to listen. He said that there was plenty of time to travel at a leisurely pace.”
Pierce let out a derisory snort.
“The race isn’t run until late in the afternoon, but even so. It was a huge risk to take.”
She nodded, a riotous curl falling in front of her ear.
“I thought so too, but was too annoyed to argue. He always did what he wanted to do. And all I could think was how furiously jealous I felt.”
“Jealous?” He curled his fingers into his palm and refused to think of reaching out and twirling the wisp of hair back into place.
Daisy gave a small smile.
“I have my pride, you know. Although I pretended not to care, I was desperate to see the race, the horses, to bathe in the atmosphere.”
Pierce could feel her passion, remembered the wild rides of their youth. Across fields, over hedges, and ditches. She had been fearless, carefree, her blue eyes sparkling like jewels, cheeks rosy from the wind, and her unruly hair streaming behind her as it fell from its pins. God! She had been fabulous! But he couldn’t let his thoughts wander now. He forced the memory from his mind.
“So why did you not go with him?”
Daisy let out a deep sigh.
“I had other arrangements that I couldn’t break. A musicale. Don’t look at me like that.” She pointed towards Pierce who quickly wiped the look of derision from face.
“So you were going to listen to some harpist or some such, while your husband went to see the most exciting race of the season. I bet that stung.”
Daisy n
arrowed her eyes.
“You have no idea. I seethed with envy the whole day.”
Pierce slapped his thigh.
“Ha! I am surprised that you hadn’t tried to enter the competition.”
Daisy gave a mischievous smile.
“Don’t think I hadn’t suggested it on several occasions. I held out some hope that he could help me. But he just laughed, said it was a ridiculous notion. A woman taking part in a horserace? Madness according to him. Pompous arse!” She fisted her hands in her lap and Pierce almost choked at her words.
“Pompous arse? A nice way to talk about your late husband, I must say.”
Daisy glared at him.
“Well, it is ridiculous. I am a far better rider than Robert ever was. He knew it, and you know it. And Bernadette can gallop like the wind. At the time of my asking, being a woman was the only objection. It was apparently considered impossible. I would never have been allowed to enter and was furious about the discrimination. But then circumstances overtook me anyway,” she lowered her eyes to her stomach, “And Robert decided that I should not become over excited. Though I wanted to experience the event, he didn’t think it a good idea for me to go this year.”
Pierce let out a huff of air. Personally he felt the same as the dead husband. Devonshire’s race was notoriously dangerous. For both horse, rider, and occasionally the spectators. The thought of Daisy taking part in it chilled his blood. What it must have done to Robert, with her in such a delicate condition, and knowing her passion for excitement at whatever the cost, must have put the fear of God into him. Not that Pierce was going to share those thoughts with an irritated Daisy. He valued his bollocks too much. Instead he gave the next best argument he could.
“I can understand your frustration, but the day can be very tiring even for spectators. And if you had tried to enter secretly, you would never have bypassed the security.” He still wouldn’t have put it past Daisy to try, if the chance had arisen. “Devonshire tightened up the rules some years ago after a young woman sneaked in somehow and won. Caused uproar at the time.”
Daisy nodded as delight sparkled in her eyes.
“Yes, I know. Lady Charlotte disguised herself as a man. A devilish clever idea and I had thought I could do the same, but,” she looked down and became serious again as she smoothed out the creases in her dress. Pierce followed her movements, fighting the rising bile as she carried on. “Things transpired against me. Obviously I knew that I couldn’t risk it. But Robert thought I might try it anyway and so at the last minute arranged for me to host an event for several of my friends. The musicale. I didn’t want to do it, but I had over thirty women attending. It wasn’t as if I could simply sneak off and leave them to it. He told me nothing of his decision to take part in the race or to even attend until an hour before he left. Though of course I now see that the musicale, was all a ruse to divert my attention from the event. He had clearly planned to go, but as far as I was concerned, his decision to enter was a last minute one.”
A frown crossed Pierce’s brow. The Duke had purposely deceived his wife, but why.
“So no one knew he had entered except those who had placed their name on the list of riders. Hmm... But he must have done that after me because I didn’t see his name when I placed my own, and the book is closed a whole day before the event.”
Daisy’s brows pinched together.
“I wonder why he bothered at all when he saw your name. He must have seen you ride before.”
Pierce tapped his fingertip on the writing desk and thought hard before speaking.
“I don’t know. I haven’t joined the hunt in years. Blood sports don’t appeal to me as they once used to. Seeing your brother pulverise his opponents is quite gory enough for me. Therefore, I’m not sure that Portland and I have ever ridden together. He was somewhat older, of course. Not that his age precluded him from any events, but he was simply never in our crowd.”
Daisy agreed with him.
“I don’t remember meeting him before he came courting either. He was a good rider though, steady, reliable, certainly not harebrained like you. The Devonshire race is unpredictable, but getting round it at all is most of the problem. He would have kept out of trouble in the hope that the more adventurous riders bowed out before the end. If you hadn’t been there Robert might have stood as good a chance as anyone of winning. If he had heard of your reputation for risk taking, I don’t think he could have guessed how reckless you are over fences.”
Pierce raised a brow.
“Hairbrained? Reckless? The very cheek of it. I am no more so than you.”
Daisy shrugged.
“It has been a long time since I did any of that kind of thing. But we are coming off the subject. Robert fell on the last but one fence from home. The saddle twisted and slipped. But when the stablemaster at the Devonshire’s took charge of Robert’s horse after the event, there was evidence of the leather being cut.”
Pierce nodded. Her story was the same as he had heard.
“So I was told, but I swear to you that it wasn’t me. Were the stable hands questioned?”
She worried a loose thread at her cuff.
“Of course, but Devonshire is no fool. The prize is large and there are desperate people taking part. All the hands on the day were his own. Vetted and already paid well. And the only people allowed in the stable on the day of the race are the riders themselves. Robert wasn’t there to attend the previous night’s ball. And neither was his tack. It had to have been sabotaged on the day of the race. But why would anyone think to sabotage him anyway? Unless they had gambled against him. Perhaps they had bet on you.”
Pierce drummed his fingers on her desk, thinking about her words.
“The outcome is unpredictable whoever rides. But the betting can be savage. The race in which your heroine won caused several men to lose everything they owned. It was fortunate that Lady Charlotte didn’t hold the men to their vowels. They would have ended up destitute.”
Daisy sat a little straighter.
“So it might have been someone who had bet heavily on another rider and he wished to make sure that Robert didn’t win instead? Though that makes no sense. The person would have to sabotage all the riders other than their choice to make sure of winning, but no one else came to harm.
Pierce nodded.
“Exactly, but it must have been one of the other riders or the hands. There is no other explanation.” He sat desperately trying to recall who else had taken part in the race and who had access to the tack room.
Daisy stared at him.
“Unless Robert’s tack was tampered with before he left London.” She left the words hanging in the air.
Silence filled the room. The clock on the mantelpiece suddenly chimed. Pierce felt his insides turn over at the implication of her words.
“And that’s why the authorities questioned you? Dear God alive, what were they thinking?” The reason for her second frantic letter became clear. She hadn’t wanted to see him especially. She had simply been frightened out of her mind. Or cajoled into sending the desperate missive. His heart turned to stone. The confirmation hurt more than he cared to admit. He steeled his features and didn’t wait for her to answer his question.
“We both know that the saboteur was neither you or I. Did Robert have enemies? Had he offended anyone? Did he owe money?”
She had been over the very same questions in her mind. Even before the constables had questioned her. More than once.
“Not that I know of, but who can tell. You have seen his room. Though many knew of his collections, fewer knew of his... his mania.” She couldn’t think of a better word for the meticulous way her husband had coveted his finds. “He wasn’t a secretive man but he hid much and gave away little to those who didn’t know him well. Generally he seemed content with his life. But more recently I felt that something was wrong. Robert was upset before he left. Not upset as in sad, but as in angry. He rarely lost his temper so it was extremely unusual f
or him to raise his voice. I have always been an early riser. That day was no different, but Robert wasn’t a morning person and usually slept late. The day of Devonshire’s race, he stormed out of the house shortly after dawn, only putting his head into the breakfast room to tell me that he would speak to me on his return.” Her voice dipped and she blinked rapidly. “That was the last time I saw him in any fit state to talk before he died.”
Pierce remained quiet, expecting her to dissolve into tears, but she pulled in a long breath and looked at him with dry eyes. He frowned and placed his elbows on his knees. Then thought better of it as he felt a few of the stitches in his jacket give way. More hurrying footsteps passed the door. He waited until they faded away.
“I am so sorry if discussing this causes you any pain, but I have to clear my name.”
She looked down at her hands as she nodded.
“I understand. I don’t mind you asking questions.”
Her tone was emotionless. Perhaps she had cried all her tears. Or maybe the shock had been too great. Pierce didn’t know and wasn’t about to ask. He concentrated on his questions.
“Do you have any idea why he was angry? Was it about you wanting to enter the race?”
Daisy shook her head quickly.
“No, that conversation had long passed. Robert wasn’t talkative. We didn’t chatter for endless hours, and were talking even less so at the time. He was spending a lot of time with his steward, but he didn’t involve me in his business matters. I didn’t know why he was so irritated, or why he had entered the race, but I had a few ideas afterwards.” She hesitated before speaking again. “No one had insulted him, no one had slighted him. He was a good master and his staff loved him. He was a Duke. And though his hobbies might seem unusual to some, he had nothing to prove or defend. The only reason that made any sense to me was if he had entered the race for the money.”
“So he was in debt? Or was it a bet?”
Daisy shook her head quickly.
“He didn’t gamble. I never saw him place a wager in three years.”
A Fragile Chain of Daisies: Flowers of the Aristocracy (Untamed Regency Book 4) Page 9