A Fragile Chain of Daisies: Flowers of the Aristocracy (Untamed Regency Book 4)

by Jackie Williams

  “So it was for the money?” Pierce enquired about their finances as politely as he could, but Daisy knew exactly what he was asking.

  Her eyelashes flicked up rapidly.

  “I don’t know. But it would be unlikely. While there were enormous costs involved with running his estates, he was always generous enough with my allowance. I never had to ask for anything. He always said that if something was important enough for me to want it, then I should have it.”

  Glancing around the room, Pierce could see that nothing looked cheap or shabby, and he recalled the numerous silk dresses that hung in the wardrobe.

  “Fair enough.” He ground his teeth again. The man sounded perfect. Apart from the strange collections. “You certainly don’t look short for a shilling or two.”

  She shrugged as she followed his gaze.

  “My dowry was sizeable, and my needs not great. Robert allowed me to draw on it at will. And all of the furniture here was already at Portland Hall. I just brought what I needed to my room. I decorated of course, and have dresses befitting my station in life, but otherwise I keep my personal expenditure to a minimum. However, his mother...”

  Pierce thought of the horses and Musgrave’s words earlier in the day.

  “I suppose her equipage must have cost a tidy sum.”

  Daisy let out a breath.

  “A fortune. But that wasn’t what I was getting at. Recently she has been far more demanding than usual. About all sorts of things, not just the manner of her travel arrangements. She has talked endlessly of her expenses, of how her allowance barely keeps her fed. Money has suddenly begun to run through her fingers like water. Even with his fortune, I think Robert must have been hard pressed to keep up.”

  Pierce scratched his head.

  “So perhaps he did enter the race to win the ten thousand guineas, but his mount’s girth was tampered with and he fell and I won the prize instead. Well, actually, I won it anyway. I was well ahead of the field when the incident happened. I didn’t know a thing about it until the race was well and truly over.”

  Daisy looked at him unblinkingly.

  “Did you need the money too?”

  Pierce shrugged. She didn’t know that he hadn’t spent a penny of his prize.

  “I won’t deny it. One always needs money. And if you remember, I thought I was going to be married a few days later. That kind of cash would be handy when starting a life with a new bride.”

  Daisy turned away from him to hide the flush rising rapidly to her cheeks.

  “But Lucas married her instead. Strange the way that it happened, but he tells me that he is deliriously happy. Are you not furious with him for stealing away your bride?” There was a hitch in her voice. Pierce must have been so angry with her brother, regardless of Lucas’ promise that it wasn’t so. Angelique Lancer was so beautiful. Almost ethereal. Many men had tried to court her, and failed. But Pierce wasn’t just any man. Was he hiding his disappointment behind a facade of relief?

  It didn’t seem so. Pierce let out a gentle laugh.

  “Furious with your brother? Good God no! Angelique Lancer and I would have made a dreadful couple. Did you know that she had never been on horseback?” He scoffed incredulously. “And she loves to read. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but really. When was the last time you saw me pick up a book?”

  Daisy’s lips trembled as she smiled. Her eyes glittered.

  “Probably not since you used to read me bedtime stories in the nursery.”

  Pierce stared at her. Were those tears? He didn’t let himself brood on what they might mean.

  “I might have read one or two since then, but essentially you’re right. Just don’t find reading an interesting pastime. I’d rather be out in the world doing things, not sitting at home reading about them. Though it turned out that Angelique had a good excuse for her avid interest in the written word.”

  Daisy nodded. Angelique’s past had been a dreadful one.

  “So Lucas tells me. He is busy rectifying that as we speak. I believe they are about to go to the continent.” She tilted her head curiously. “But why did you offer for her and become engaged if you were so incompatible?”

  Pierce waved a hand as if dismissing her question.

  “It’s too complicated to go into now, but I will say that I was not an entirely willing would-be groom.” He held up his hands as Daisy’s eyes narrowed, and carried on quickly. “Now don’t jump to conclusions. I had done nothing untoward, I can assure you of that. Let’s just say that I was persuaded into the disastrous affair by her overenthusiastic brother, and was more than a little glad when Lucas got me back out of my predicament.”

  She turned from the window.

  “Lucas won’t be able to help you out of this one though. He fears that his movements will be watched. He has already refused to help look for you.”

  Pierce nodded.

  “For which I am deeply grateful, believe me. As my closest friend he would certainly have been followed.”

  Daisy lifted her chin sharply.

  “And how do you know that I wasn’t? I had written to you twice. There could be a constable hiding in my closet at this very moment, waiting to arrest you.” She threw out a delicate hand towards her huge wardrobe.

  Pierce smiled.

  “But there is not. Because I looked earlier.”

  Daisy gasped, her hand rising to her throat.

  “You searched my wardrobe? What did you expect to find?”

  Pierce shrugged.

  “Nothing. I wasn’t searching for anything except some space. I did put all of the spare clothes in there. Your mother in law was charging about inspecting the rooms and I didn’t want to leave your chamber in a mess. I shoved them to the back. Near your breeches and riding boots.” He grinned at her look of annoyance.

  She wanted to slap him. And hug him. And might have done both if the sound of raised voices hadn’t suddenly reached their ears. They both stared at the bedroom door, more than a little horrified at the words they heard. And who spoke them.

  ‘I’ll see her right now! I cannot believe how she spoke to me and should never have let her leave the room. I’ll not tolerate such treatment in my own home!’ Jane Benedict’s voice was unmistakable.

  Daisy’s irritation with her mother in law grew. Blast the woman. Portland Hall wasn’t hers. With her new streak of stubbornness, she might have waited to argue the point, but Pierce’s sudden drawn in breath made Daisy’s heart lurched in fear.

  “She’s coming to find me! She cannot discover you here.”

  Pierce leapt out of the chair, eyes frantically searching the room. There was no other door, no interconnecting chamber to where he could discreetly disappear. He shoved the window open and looked out. There was no ledge. Nor a handy covering of ivy that he might climb down.

  “The person who maintains this house needs skinning.” He hissed as he twisted his body to check above him. Nothing. Not a brick out of place. “Where is the crumbling masonry, or vast swathes of foliage that usually covers these big houses?” He pulled his head back in and closed the window again.

  Daisy ran to the other. The brickwork appeared as clean as if it had been erected the previous week.

  “I apparently employ an over zealous handyman and gardener. Remind me to dock their wages for doing his job properly, won’t you,” she whispered.

  Pierce rolled his eyes and looked around the room again. The bed was not of the usual enormous size. There was no way he would fit beneath it. The drapes at the window reached the floor but they were of a fine, ivory silk. His shape would be more than obvious behind them. The desk was too small to hide beneath, and the ottoman at the end of the bed would probably already be full.

  And then he turned to the wardrobe.

  Daisy had the exact same thought. She ran and opened the door, dragged back her dresses and stepped into the furthest corner before turning and beckoning Pierce inside.

  “What are you doing?” He whispered as h
e hesitated on the threshold.

  “What do you think? I don’t want to see the old baggage either so I am hiding too!” She shuffled back as far as she could, disappearing into the shadows.

  The voices came nearer.

  ‘Can’t it wait, Jane? She’s tired, overwrought, grieving. She wasn’t thinking. Consider her condition. You remember what it was like. Your brain turns to porridge.’

  There was a loud snort.

  ‘Your brain may have turned to porridge, but I like to think that the Portland’s are made of sterner stuff.’ Jane Benedict trumpeted as she stomped along.

  There was a thunderous knocking on the bedroom door. Pierce didn’t protest any further and squeezed into the wardrobe, pulling the door closed behind him and shoving the dresses back into place. He stood pressed against Daisy, heard her sudden gasp of breath.

  “I thought there was more room in here,” she whispered.

  “It looks bigger from the outside,” he conceded, then exclaimed. “Ouch! That’s my feet you are trampling all over.”

  Daisy wriggled again.

  “Sorry but there would be more room if you hadn’t thrown those old clothes on the floor.”

  Pierce blew out through his mouth as her hair tickled his nose.

  “It wasn’t as if I was expecting to take refuge in here. Another time I’ll leave them strewn about your room.” He moved a little but stopped as Daisy hissed.

  “Ouch, you great oaf! That is my side you are digging your elbow into. Move back a bit.” Her hands pressed against his chest.

  They both tried to manoeuvre, tried to put a space between them. He shuffled sideways but his shoulder instantly hit the back wall of the wardrobe. She tried to back further into the corner, but it proved impossible. He grimaced as she stood on his feet again. She let out a frustrated huff of air. Then they both stilled as they heard the distinct click of the bedroom door and footsteps on the floorboards.

  The footsteps came to a sudden halt.

  “She’s not here!” The Dowager Duchess stated the obvious.

  Elizabeth Caruthers gasped in delight.

  “What a delightful bedroom! Such colours, and the light is wonderful.”

  There was a muffled grunt of derision.

  “It is like a bazaar! Absolutely hideous. My goodness! The decor actually hurts one’s eyes. What Robert was thinking letting her do this to the room, is beyond my comprehension. And look at that! What is this rag upon the bed? Is that meant to be a bear? Good Lord! It is.”

  Elizabeth laughed.

  “She’s had it since she was a little girl.”

  The Duchess sniffed indignantly.

  “Then it’s about time she was rid of it. Why, it is positively flea bitten. There’s only one fit place for articles such as that. The fire!”

  Pierce felt Daisy stiffen against him. Felt her hands press against his chest, pushing him to move aside. But he couldn’t let her do that and have the women discover them. The consequences would be dire, not only for himself. Daisy’s position was precarious enough already. He couldn’t afford to have her reputation sullied on top of being thrown out of her home.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her head into his chest while praying that she wouldn’t scream. Holding her tightly, his fingers sank into the mass of wild curls at the nape of her neck.

  She struggled against him, panic rising in her throat. She wanted to cry out. My bear! She had to save her bear. She couldn’t be without him. Not ever!

  But Pierce held her prisoner, his arms a ring of steel, his chest a tree of old oak. He wouldn’t let her go. Wouldn’t let her ruin herself, or him for the sake of a ragged old bear. Even if it was one she had cherished most of her life. She stifled a sob of desperation and tried to calm the frantic beating of her heart as he whispered in her ear.

  “Shh. You have nothing to fear.”

  The panic subsided instantly. Pierce was here, saving her from herself once again. She knew that he would protect her. And that he would save her bear.

  She drew in a gulp of air. And the scent of him set her heart racing once again. Now that he wore clean clothes, she could smell his skin. Musky, spiced, a hint of hay and fresh air. Warm, familiar... Perfect. She breathed him in and let herself be held. Safe, secure.

  And the saddest she had ever been.

  Pierce held back a groan as he felt her surrender against him. Her body went limp against his, her hands stopped pushing, grabbed his lapels, and she clung to him. God! How many times had he wanted this? Dreamed of this? Too many times to count. Her hair tickled his chin, the scent of orange blossoms drove him to distraction. His desire couldn’t be controlled. He wanted her!

  She heard his breathing change, heard something rumbling in his chest. A groan? Of annoyance at her silly fears? The sound occurred again. Deeper this time. And his arms encircling her waist gentled, a heated palm spread down to the curve of her spine. No, definitely not annoyance. But perhaps desire? Butterflies took to flight in her stomach. She lifted her face from his chest and looked upwards. No light penetrated their black cocoon. She couldn’t distinguish his silhouette, but she could feel hot breath on her face.

  “Pierce...” his name left her lips. A whisper in the dark.

  “Shh...” One sound, but his lips brushed her forehead as his fingers wove deeper into her hair.

  “My bear...” Though her desires fired something deep within her, her distress was obvious to her own ears. Her mother in law couldn’t take her bear.

  Pierce tightened his hold on her once again. He felt her lips brush the underside of his jaw, could feel the full length of her body pressed to his. Her thighs, her breasts. The hand lying on her back slid lower, pulling her even closer.

  “Shh,” he growled again gently.

  His lips sought her again. For longer this time. They rested against her forehead, barely touching but definitely there.

  “But I cannot lose him.” She reached up and pressed her face into his neck. I cannot lose you! Her mind screamed at her.

  He felt hot tears on her cheeks, felt them touch his skin.

  “You won’t lose him.” Or me, ever, I swear! His heart pounded against his ribs as his vow seared his soul.

  Sounds came from outside the door again. Pierce continued to hold Daisy as the Dowager Duchess clomped across the room.

  “Did you hear someone talking?” The footsteps stopped.

  Lady Caruthers’ lighter step and rustling gown could be heard.

  “There must be someone in the garden below. Come Jane. We should leave Daisy’s room. She has obviously gone to find solitude elsewhere.”

  Jane Benedict didn’t move.

  “But I swear I heard voices coming from over here.”

  Elizabeth Caruthers dress rustled again as she walked back across the room.

  “An echo off the side wall perhaps. This room has a double aspect. Oh! And look here, I can see two of the maids just outside the servants entrance. It must have been them that you heard.”

  More stomping followed. Jane let out a loud and indignant huff.

  “This is exactly what I was talking about earlier. There is no peace on this side of the house. Tradesmen and servants all day long.”

  “Oh really, Jane. It’s hardly St. James’ Park.” A single set of footsteps retraced themselves across the room. Then the Dowager’s heavier step followed, but halted suddenly and the woman spoke again.

  “It is not where I would choose to sleep. I am easily disturbed during the night and those maids certainly know how to gossip. Well, as you say, she is clearly not here. Come, we are wasting our time.” The voice stopped half way across the room and was silent for a second, before Daisy’s mother in law added... “But while we are here, I’ll dispose of that vile child’s toy.”

  The bedroom door closed behind the two women, but Pierce refused to let Daisy go. She struggled in his arms.

  “Release me!” She bit out the words. “I have to save him!”

 
“No! They will know you were hiding in here if you follow them so soon. Hold on for just one minute. Let us make sure they have left the corridor.” Seconds previously, her wriggling might have heightened his desire, but the reminder of a child’s toy had cooled his passion faster than a dunk in an icy pond. She would soon be buying toys for a child of her own.

  Daisy beat her hands against his chest.

  “I cannot let her destroy him. I cannot!”

  He loosened his grip on her body and took hold of her shoulders. The heat of her skin burned his palms even through the layers of material.

  “Daisy, stop! She will not destroy him. I won’t let her. She will give him to a maid with orders to put him in the fire...” he stopped speaking as she gasped and renewed her efforts to escape. “I won’t let the maid do that, I swear.” She stilled in his grasp.

  “You swear?” Her voice trembled in the dark.

  “On my honour. You will be reunited by tonight.” Who was this woman in his arms? Certainly not the Daisy of his youth. Or a grief stricken widow. Not even the strong and determined woman he had seen and heard earlier in the day. But now was not the time to try and find out who this stranger was in his arms.

  He had a murder to solve.

  And a bear to rescue.

  Chapter Eight

  Playing with Fire

  The clock chimed eight but no one paid any heed to the timepiece. The three women ate their soup in silence. Only the sound of cutlery on crockery fractured the ice like atmosphere of the huge dining room. Even the many candles flickering and casting shadows over the long table couldn’t relieve the tension in the air.

  Daisy sat glaring down the yards of oak at the Dowager Duchess. She hadn’t given their dining arrangements a thought. She always sat in the breakfast room, or took a tray to her chamber at night. But her mother in law deemed a formal dinner necessary. For what purpose Daisy had no idea, but she was now glad the woman had insisted on the traditional place setting at a table meant for at least forty diners, simply for the reason that if she had been sitting any closer, Daisy might have throttled her for taking her bear.