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

by Jackie Williams

  Pierce glanced at Daisy whose cheeks had become a deep shade of red. He carefully took the cushion back, holding it at a slightly different angle, and squinting at the two areas of almost recognisable beige needlework. Were they legs? And heads, and arms, and, and... Hmm. What he had always imagined must be some kind of flower stems were suddenly revealed to him for what they clearly were. Freddie Fountain and Danny Dribbler captured in all their naked glory! He held back the laugh that almost exploded from his lips. No wonder her cheeks flared so red. Minx!

  “Well, whatever the image is meant to be of, I like it. The colours appeal to me. And it’s a very comfortable cushion.” He tried to soothe her embarrassment and plumped the cushion up behind him again as if proving the point. “It was the first gift I received when I moved into this house and I have no intention of getting rid of it. However, as convention and her condition prohibits her doing much else, if Daisy fancies making me a new one while we are all out tomorrow, then I will treasure that one as well. At least the activity will keep her busy while we are gone.” The corner of his mouth twitched up as he saw the horrified expression on his wife’s face. She looked as if she would rather suck upon unripe lemons than have to sit sewing samplers.

  Daisy only just managed to stop herself grinding her teeth. Did Pierce have to bring up the matter of her pregnancy, or non pregnancy, again? She had hoped they had steered away from the subject. Clara was becoming far too attentive. The woman would guess something was amiss soon enough, and until Daisy could return for the letters and destroy the evidence contained in them, she would rather keep her friend at a distance. Trying to keep the subject on the matter in hand, she smiled sweetly at Pierce.

  “You will have to show me where you keep your sewing basket.”

  Pierce’s triumphant smile instantly slipped from his face.

  “Er? Well, I er, I don’t have one, obviously,” he blustered.

  “But I do!” Clara chirped in excitedly. “I thought we might need to stay indoors rather more than we would like to, and brought my basket with me. I have just purchased some new threads too. You will have a lovely time sewing, Daisy and won’t miss us at all.”

  Daisy almost rolled her eyes. She would rather walk over broken glass than feel the constant prick of a needle in her fingers ever again. But instead of refusing her friend’s offer, she fixed her smile upon her face.

  “Thank you Clara. I am sure I will enjoy myself immensely.” Her sarcasm was lost on her beaming friend. “I might even take your basket to the rose garden and sew in the fresh air. I believe the weather will be warm tomorrow. A pity I didn’t have the chance to bring Bernadette with me. It would be a wonderful day for a ride. Better than the last time I took her out.” She sighed. Let Pierce think what he liked of her words. If he thought she was going to sit and sew without some small protest, he had better think again.

  Pierce narrowed his eyes. Was that a personal dig sent in his direction, for the last time she had been out had ended in a marriage proposal. One that she hadn’t wanted even if her first husband had been a disappointment. But the look on her face didn’t meld with her words. He knew that crease between her eyebrows far too well. What was going on inside Daisy’s pretty head? Certainly a scheme of some sort. An escapade of epic proportions, if he knew his wife. But he didn’t have long to consider what she might have in mind. The salon door suddenly opened and Arthur announced that dinner was served. Pierce stood up and held out his elbow for Daisy to take, but she refused to meet his gaze as she stood up and placed her hand on his arm. No matter. He wasn’t about to leave her unattended the next day. Victor could be his eyes and ears to whatever she had planned.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Breaking with Convention

  Pierce hefted yet another huge platter of sliced meats onto his shoulder and carried it through to Lord Templeton’s rather inadequate dining room. The amount of serving dishes laid out on the table gave one cause to expect at least three hundred guests, but there was perhaps room for only forty and Pierce knew that even eating buffet style would mean there would be a horrible crush.

  ‘Mind where you’re going man!’ An angry voice had Pierce swerving to the left, narrowly avoiding a maid with a tray full of cakes.

  “Lordy! I never seen such a crush. And we ain’t even got no guests yet.” The maid wasn’t nearly so careful about walking into Pierce as she balanced her tray high on one hand. Well, not so much of an accidental crash as a purposeful collision. With her ample bosom pressing perilously close to his chest.

  Pierce leaned back as far as he could without falling over.

  “Perhaps you should put the tray down before you lose the lot.” He nodded towards the tilting silver.

  The maid giggled.

  “Now that would be a disaster. Cream cakes all down my cleavage and also over your uniform, and I doubt that there’s room in the scullery to wash and change, though I’m sure I could find us a quiet corner somewhere. In my bedroom.” She finished more quietly as she fluttered her eyelashes at him in what Pierce assumed she thought an alluring manner.

  He swivelled on the spot and twisted his body around and away from her.

  “Though the offer is a tempting one,” he lied. “I am afraid that I must refuse. My wife might not take your offer in the kind manner I am sure it was meant.”

  The maid’s warm smile dissolved from her face.

  “Your wife? Hmm,” she considered, looking him up and down again. “Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.” The smile was suddenly back. Along with a wink.

  Pierce wasn’t sure if he was flattered or appalled. Were all maids so brazen? Possibly, given the bruises on his bottom.

  “Perhaps we had best make sure that the cakes remain upon the tray. My wife is somewhat of an expert in the kitchen. She is very handy with a carving knife, and I would prefer to keep all bodily parts intact.” He gave a short bow and quickly made his way back to the kitchen, but it seemed that the last of the food had been taken. Several servants glanced over at him. Another footman stopped chewing on a warm bread roll and lifted his chin.

  “You had best get to the cloakroom. The first of the toffs will be arriving soon. There’s always a few who want to take up the best positions near the dining room or in the ballroom.”

  Pierce could imagine. Personally he never arrived at such an occasion until he thought it was a mere half an hour before he would be asked to collect his coat. Less time for meddling mothers to plan a disastrous entrapment. But that hardly counted now. Nor would do ever again. A smile wandered across his lips. Marriage had certain advantages.

  But thinking of Daisy wasn’t helping in his cause. He looked back at the footman, a look of curiosity on his face.

  “I’ve not worked at Lord Templeton’s before. Who do you suspect will be the first to arrive? I have heard that Lady Elizabeth Caruthers is always very prompt.” He actually had no idea if Daisy’s mother was an early arriver, but he had to start the conversation somewhere.

  The footman took his feet from where they rested on a bench and considered the question, but eventually shook his head.

  “Nah! Might have been true once upon a time when she was trying to get rid of her only daughter, but Lady Caruthers is a dependable late arrival now. Her daughter is already married. Or was. Duke of Portland’s dead now, of course. Murdered, they say. Pity. He could always be relied upon to give a shilling or two to keep his carriage near the front door. Never arrived too early and never stayed late. No, the Caruthers’ will probably be in mourning. Doubt they will come at all. I reckon it’ll be Lady Constance Fairbanks. She still has another daughter to see settled, regardless of all the current talk behind their fans. She’ll want to secure the best place by the dance floor in the hopes of luring some unsuspecting gentleman into an engagement.”

  Pierce nodded as if he knew of what the man spoke but then pursed his lips. He tapped his fingertip on his chin as if deep in thought

  “I still favour Lady Caruthers. And I
doubt she will be wearing black. She is not a direct relation, and with the Duke dead, she’ll be on the lookout for a new husband for her daughter.”

  The footman scoffed.

  “But the newly widowed wife won’t be here. She’s gone off to the country and won’t be seen anywhere for several months, especially not as there is talk of an heir. There’s no point in Lady Caruthers even looking if there ain’t no one in the shop window, so to speak. Besides, don’t widows take more responsibility for themselves when finding new husbands?”

  Pierce shrugged as if he didn’t care one way or another, but wasn’t about to throw away a golden opportunity.

  “The Duke being murdered might put the young widow off looking for herself. There are so many gentlemen looking for a wife with a fortune, and Portland surely can’t have left his wife badly off. She will be the catch of the season and might appreciate any advice.”

  The footman narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, glancing around to check who might be within hearing.

  “More likely that the gentlemen might be put off.”

  Pierce feigned surprise.

  “Put off? How so? The new widow is a beauty. I can recall all the fuss when she first came out. She was the talk of the ton. And now she has a fortune.”

  The footman beckoned Pierce closer.

  “You clearly haven’t heard the latest news. Apparently word is that...” He looked over his shoulders once again before continuing. “Word is that she might have done it. Cut the man’s tack herself.”

  Pierce didn’t need to feign shock this time. He gasped before slapping his hand over his mouth.

  “You can’t mean it!” He whispered loudly when he could speak again.

  His confidant nodded enthusiastically, eager to tell someone the latest news.

  “Seems like the lady wasn’t half so fond of her Duke as we was meant to believe. He had some strange habits. Odd hobbies that scared the staff half to death, and positively revolted his wife.”

  Pierce felt his eyes widen.

  “Strange habits? And what hobbies could scare anyone?”

  “Insects! Huge ones. All dead of course, but pinned into boxes and left lying about. We’ve heard about a spider as big as a man’s hand.” He held out his own hand, fingers out-stretched as if to give the look of said enormous arachnid. “And scorpions, and beetles nearly a foot long. Mr. Musgrave was quite poetic in the details.”

  “Musgrave? Do I know this person? And how did he know of the Dukes habits?” Pierce racked his brains as to where he had heard the name before.

  The footman grinned and tapped the side of his nose, delighted that he knew more than the hired staff.

  “He was Portland’s old valet. Lord Templeton took him on only a few days ago. The man has been a font of information. What we have heard will set the gossips alight tonight.”

  Horror and anger struck Pierce through the heart. If any of it hurt Daisy, he wouldn’t be answerable for his actions.

  “So the Duke’s valet professes to know what happened to his previous employer and yet hasn’t told the authorities of his suspicions? I find that a little surprising.”

  The footman grinned again.

  “Seems as though the Portland’s weren’t as content as everyone assumed. And now there is suddenly going to be an heir, when there was never one before. Not in three years of marriage. Just seems a little odd, don’t you think. And convenient for the duchess, who would be thrown onto the street if there was no child.”

  “And this heir is cause for murder? It’s a little drastic, isn’t it? Seems like she had a nice life before, even if her husband did have a few peculiarities. Why would she suddenly get rid of him now?”

  The footman raised a knowing brow.

  “Would you put up with spiders and scorpions in your bedroom if you could secure your place without ‘em?” He might have said more, but suddenly slammed his mouth shut and leapt to his feet, brushing breadcrumbs from his trousers to the floor as he stared at Pierce. The man then gave a low bow.

  “Good evening, my Lord. Let me assure you that everything is under control.”

  For a ghastly moment, Pierce thought he might have been recognized, but then realized that the footman’s gaze was directed past his shoulder. Pierce turned and gave a stiff bow before standing very straight as Lord Templeton stepped into the room and lifted his chin to speak to his staff. The maids all bobbed curtseys and the men tipped their heads as the kitchen fell silent and everyone turned to listen.

  Fearing recognition, Pierce stepped back into the crowd while Lord Templeton addressed his staff.

  “Thank you Hargreaves, and thank you all. As you know, this is my first attempt at hosting a grand ball. I simply wanted to show my appreciation for all of your hard work in making it happen. There will be an extra shilling in everyone’s pay packet if the evening is as successful as I hope.” He smiled benevolently as excited whispers circled the room. “The first of my guests will be arriving shortly, so once again, thank you for your service this afternoon and evening.” The man smiled once again and then turned and left the room.

  “Well I never!” The footman drew himself up to his full height. “A magnificent gesture from our employer. I always knew he would turn out to be a good un.”

  Pierce frowned.

  “I am not so sure about his judgement if he is employing a gossip for his valet. How could anyone possibly think that the Duke’s wife had anything to do with his death? This Musgrave fellow must be soft in the head. And if you believe any of his claptrap, maybe you and your employer are too.”

  Hargreaves drew in a short breath and pointed a finger towards the door.

  “Why, you cheeky devil! If we weren’t so pressed for staff this evening, I’d throw you out into the gutter! I don’t care who his Lordship employs as his valet. We’re all getting an extra shilling tonight, so get your arse up them stairs and into the hall. And if I hear of anything more against Lord Templeton, or his new valet, I’ll make sure he knows about it. And docks not only your bonus, but your wages as well.”

  Pierce stood glaring for a second, but then noticed others looking at him too. As much as he wanted to punch Hargreaves on the nose, perhaps this wasn’t the time to defend Daisy’s honour. Instead he ducked his head and swallowed his pride as he turned to take up his position in the cloakrooms.

  Daisy stabbed her needle into the silk and looked at the clock once again. How slowly could time possibly pass? Was it really only five minutes since the last time she had glanced towards the mantelpiece? The clock ticked on steadily, unaware of her impatience. If Bertie and Clara didn’t leave soon there would be no way she could make it to Portland Hall and back without her absence being discovered.

  The door opened and Clara bustled in, a beautiful white, down trimmed cloak about her shoulders.

  “Are you sure you won’t be bored without us here to keep you company?” She gushed as she rushed across the room, closely followed by her brother.

  Daisy put down her sewing and smiled up at her friend.

  “Of course not. I intend to take a turn about the rose garden in half an hour. And then I will take tea before writing some letters. I have much to do and your absence will give me a chance to do it all. We’ll be able to spend far more time in each other’s company later in the week if I take this opportunity to see to some personal chores while you are all out.”

  Clara sighed deeply.

  “Well, if you are sure. The invitation is one of longstanding. It would be more than a little awkward to send out apologies this late in the day.”

  Daisy nodded quickly.

  “Of course, You mustn’t even consider it. I insist that you go as planned. Now don’t delay any longer. You look lovely and are sure to have the men falling at your feet.” Several times during the past few days Daisy’s friend had lamented over her lack of a husband.

  Clara shook her head at Daisy’s words.

  “I am far too old to be a catch at my age. I w
ill let all the debutants make fools of themselves over any potential beaus. If I am lucky, I may take a turn about the dance floor with some aging Lord but I doubt there will be any marriage proposal at the end of it.”

  Daisy took her friend’s hands and squeezed them gently.

  “Do not give up, Clara. You are beautiful still. Any man would be proud to see you on his arm. But they won’t see you at all if you and Bertie don’t get a move on. Leave me in peace now. I want to walk while the day is warm enough.” She glanced out at the blue sky. The weather was being kind. There was barely a chill in the air. “Now be off with you before you are late and announced the rudest pair in the whole of London.”

  Bertie stepped out from behind his sister.

  “Don’t forget that the servants are only a call away. And they can send for us at a moment’s notice. They know where we are going and can be with us in no time at all.”

  Daisy smiled and shook her head.

  “I am not a child, Bertie. I promise I won’t go rowing across lakes or climbing trees.” She made a cross with her fingers over her heart while Bertie snorted with laughter.

  “I wouldn’t stake a wager on it, but as there are neither lakes or trees of any consequence in the gardens here, I’ll assume that you will be safe from that kind of peril. Besides, I know that you wouldn’t dare do anything too untoward. Pierce isn’t here to rescue you.” The man winked at Daisy. She smiled tightly. Had Pierce revealed their secret to his friend? She didn’t know, but made shooing movements with her hands at the pair of them.

  “Go, be off and leave me to my sewing.”

  The brother and sister left quickly and Daisy sighed with relief. She sat back down, making sure that her friends didn’t suddenly return for any reason, and then she stood back up and walked to the door. Only to have it opened in her face and Victor, Pierce’s valet walk in.