A Duke for Daisy: The Blooming Brides Book 1

by St. Clair, Ellie

  She nodded.

  “Well, if that is all, Nathaniel, then I wish you the best of luck in your travels. But rest assured, there is no need to return. I have enjoyed this flirtation as much as you have and have no need to be reminded of it in the future.”

  “But Daisy…” he managed, shock filling him at her words. Had he misread the situation? He had thought there was more growing between them, but if this was what she truly thought…

  She turned to leave, and Nathaniel reached forward, curling his fingers around her arm.

  “Daisy,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “Do you truly believe that our relationship was only a flirtation? Because to me, it was far more than that.”

  She lifted her eyes to him, the blue-green of them as stormy as the sea beyond where they stood.

  “Truly?” she asked. “And just where would I fit in the life of a duke?”

  Her question stunned him. How did she know? When had she found out?

  “I… I’m not entirely sure,” he said, not denying her words. “That is what I need to determine.”

  “So you are a duke, then?”

  “I suppose I am,” he said slowly. “I have only just recently learned the news. My grandfather was the Duke of Greenwich. The title passed to his son, my uncle. Days before I arrived here, the general told me that both my uncle and my cousin, the heir to the title, died from an illness that swept through their village. Which leaves it with me. I would have told you, Daisy, truly I would have, but I have no idea what to expect once I return to London. Once I learn more and have a better understanding of the life I will lead, then I will return to you, I promise.”

  “Once you determine if I would fit in a life such as the one you would lead, you mean?” she asked, and now the anger seemed to have dissipated, though Nathaniel thought he would have far preferred it to the distress that remained. “I am truly sorry about your relatives, Nathaniel. But still, you lied to me.”

  “I only ask that you give me some time to come to terms with what my life is now going to be like,” he pleaded, but she shook her head.

  “You will return, you will find that women are altogether quite interested in a handsome duke, and you will forget about the daughter of an innkeeper in a little seaside town.”

  Her eyes were filling with tears, but Nathaniel worried that if he reached out to her once more, she would only push him away again.

  “Wait for me, Daisy.”

  “Wait for you? To return for a visit?” She shook her head, blinking away tears, breaking his heart.

  “It’s far better that we go our separate ways now, Nathaniel, before this becomes anything more than what it is. I wish you all the best as you enter your new life. Goodbye, Nathaniel. Your grace.”

  She turned on her heel and walked away, back through the sand. Nathaniel longed to run after her, to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, but then what would he say? For she was right in that he didn’t have an answer for her — not right now. He would just have to continue on as he planned, and hope that she would wait for him.

  16

  Daisy stopped in shock when she walked into the room, unable to believe the sight that awaited her.

  It had been over two weeks now since the day Nathaniel — that is, the Duke of Greenwich — had ridden away from The Wild Rose Inn, back to London to assume a life of privilege. She had watched him from the upper window of her bedroom, allowing only one tear to emerge as he rode away, out of her life forever.

  What a little fool she had been, thinking that, perhaps, this man would want her — her, Daisy Tavners, daughter of an innkeeper. She had hoped, when she had gone to him that night on the beach, that he had wanted to see her in order to tell her of who he truly was, to tell her of what he was returning home to. But no, he had continued on with his charade, telling her enough of the truth so that she would believe him but not enough to be completely convincing.

  For whatever reason, she was simply a woman with whom men entertained themselves until their true selves were revealed and they found another direction.

  He had asked her to wait, but for what? To become his mistress? For she knew, with all certainty, that he would never take her as his wife. Stephen had certainly been clear in his explanation to her that a baron certainly could never take a common woman from the village to wed. So how, then, could a duke ever do so? Nathaniel thought with one word, one command, she would do as he said, but he should know by now that would never work.

  She had thought all was fine and that everyone had continued on in the lives they were meant to live. So why now, when she walked into the family sitting room, were her three sisters and Millie sitting there in wait for her, staring at her as though she had made the biggest mistake of her life?

  “What is it?” she asked, standing there looking down upon them.

  “We simply wanted to talk to you,” Marigold said. “Sit, please?”

  Daisy rolled her eyes and sighed, but took a seat. If there were any people in the world she would agree to listen to, it was the four women in front of her. But whatever could it be about?

  “Daisy,” Millie began, looking to the rest of them, who nodded at her. “We know that Mr. Hawke’s departure has been rather difficult for you.”

  “I believe he is Nathaniel Huntingwell, Duke of Greenwich,” Daisy corrected, but without malice — it was not Millie’s fault the man was not who he had claimed to be.

  “Yes, well, perhaps we should simply call him Nathaniel within this room,” Millie said, continuing. “You have been so despondent since he left. It leads us to believe that perhaps you felt more toward him than you claim. He told you that he would come back. Perhaps you should write a letter to him, or keep the idea of being with him open.”

  “Why would I do such a thing?” Daisy asked, surprised that her friend would even suggest it.

  “Oh, Daisy, it’s only that, having recently found love myself, I do know how wonderful it can be, and I have such a wish for the same to happen to you. I saw you with him, Daisy, and the way you looked at him, and he at you… no one could deny that you felt something for one another.”

  “At first I felt nothing but frustration,” Daisy said, the slightest of smiles threatening to tease her lips as she thought of just how they had clashed upon first meeting. “It should have stayed that way.”

  “But the way he looked at you…” Violet chimed in, her expression wistful, and Daisy was already shaking her head.

  “I do not deny that there was something between us, but it was nothing that would last beyond his time here,” Daisy said firmly. “I thank you all, and I know you only have my best interests and happiness at heart, but please, please do not push this any further. I am done with thinking of Nathaniel, and I wish you wouldn’t suggest that I do otherwise.”

  She gave them each a pointed stare, and they reluctantly nodded.

  Daisy knew how much they loved her, as she did each of them in turn. But as she left the room, needing another moment alone — and this would be the last tear she shed for this man, she promised herself — she could hear their murmurings, which made her feel ill. She was supposed to be the one to look after them, not the other way around. She didn’t like the feeling of being the one the others worried about, for her role had always been to look after them, fussing around the lot of them. She would just have to convince them that she was perfectly fine, she determined. Then they could all leave her be.

  * * *

  Nathaniel sat at what was now his desk, in what was now his study, awake for another sleepless night as he attempted to sort through the mess of documents his uncle had left him. He supposed that the man had known what he was about, but Nathaniel was perplexed by the way he had kept all of his ledgers, the disorganized state of the lot of them. He figured his cousin had been shown it all, but his cousin was no longer with them, and so the knowledge of the Dukedom of Greenwich was contained in the papers within this office, those of the country estates, and within the
minds of the stewards who had served his uncle.

  He sighed, sitting back and running his hands through his hair, which was far too long. If there was one positive out of all of this, it was the fact that he could see himself enjoying this role, once he made sense of it all. He was provided with a sense of power, over his own properties and estates, as well as influencing others around him. He could exert his influence in multiple facets, and he wouldn’t be shy about doing so, particularly in the arena of military affairs.

  Daisy had been right about one thing — he certainly didn’t lack for women interested in him anymore. While it was not as though he never received any attention from mothers and daughters of the upper class, now he could hardly walk into a room or take a step down a Mayfair street without an introduction to yet another young lady. They were lovely, truly they were, but none had his heart beating in an unusual pattern as had Daisy Tavners.

  If he were being honest, she had left his thoughts for nary a moment since he had ridden away from the inn two weeks ago. As he had left, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was leaving something — someone — behind. And now… he had no idea what to do. For her parting words to him had basically said that she saw him as nothing but a dalliance for a brief interlude. He was well aware that she hadn’t even liked him at first. Maybe knowing who he was, that he had kept the truth from her, was enough to break whatever tie had begun to form between them.

  The more time he spent within this home, however, the more he recognized just how barren it was. The London manor was particularly large, which only added to the feeling of hollowness as there was only himself and the servants to fill it. His aunt lived with him when she was in London but was choosing to spend most of her time in the dower house of the Chelmsford estate. She said it was where she felt comfortable, where she best remembered her family, and besides that, her daughter had married a nobleman with a nearby estate, and now with a grandchild on the way, she desired to be close to them.

  Leaving Nathaniel alone.

  He had always thought that he was happy that way. Before he left for war, he had taken rooms in a boardinghouse to provide himself the independence he had been searching for. But now… when he looked around the rooms, he was finding himself imagining what Daisy would choose to do with them. When he sat down to dinner, he wondered what Daisy would have chosen for the menu. And when he went to bed at night, he pictured her there, lying beside him, her head on the pillow with her dark hair splayed around it, unbound as it had been the last night on the shore.

  This house might be one of awe and splendor, but in a strong sense, it lacked what was most important, what he had felt at the inn. It was devoid of people, devoid of love. When he had stayed at The Wild Rose Inn, at the time he had focused on all of its shortcomings, but there was one thing he could always count on, and that was the presence of another person, whether it be one of the Johnsons or the Tavners themselves. While everyone had their faults, no one had been anything but welcoming to him, and he missed that.

  He wondered what Daisy was doing right now. Was she sitting with her family? Or in her bedroom, looking out that window over the street? Or was she walking along the shoreline — alone?

  Where did he wish she was? Sitting beside him, helping him to figure out the mess in front of him. For some reason, he knew without question she would be able to do so. She seemed to have the ability to do whatever she put her mind to.

  Nathaniel looked up from his desk to the portrait of his uncle staring at him from across the room. He had been a good man. Absent-minded, but he loved his family and he did his best at maintaining his responsibilities. He would never have imagined that his nephew would be the one assuming his role.

  Nathaniel shook his head, allowing himself the smallest of chuckles.

  And then, he knew. Nathaniel would never be able to put his finger on why, in that particular moment, the revelation had come to him, but come to him it had.

  It didn’t matter what his responsibilities were. They were numerous to be sure, but they were not insurmountable. It didn’t matter what the expectations were on his wife. No one had expected him to be here in this role, yet here he was. So why could his wife not be who she damn well pleased? It should matter to no one but himself.

  All that mattered was that he found a woman who was perfect for him. And he had done so — within an inn in a little seaside village called Southwold.

  He loved Daisy Tavners. He had not known her long, but everything he knew about her to be true spoke to his heart and his soul, and he missed her with a ferocity he had never known before. He missed her more than the war, more than the strategic plans he had made, more than the perfect functioning of his left leg.

  Nathaniel needed her in his life, and he knew suddenly that he must go to whatever lengths necessary in order for her to understand how he felt. He could only hope that she truly, deep inside, felt the same for him.

  Despite the late hour, he began to make preparations. He would leave the very next day. While his leg was not yet completely healed — not that it ever would be whole, according to the few physicians he had spoken with — he could still ride, but his journey would be slightly longer than that of an able-bodied man. And so, unable to wait any longer, he scribbled a hasty note, lit the wax, sealed the letter, and placed it where he knew his butler would find it to post early the very next day.

  He hoped it was enough to melt her heart, just enough that he could convince her to allow it to fuse with his.

  17

  Daisy stared at the note in her hand.

  It was short, succinct, and completely confusing.

  Wait for me, Daisy — please? All my love, Nathaniel.

  They were the very words he had last spoken to her on the shore behind the inn. To wait for him. She had questioned what she was waiting for, had denied that she could mean anything to him but a potential woman to bed.

  She re-read the words again. They were the same words with an exception — he had added the “please” — and a question mark. It was what had been missing — the question, as opposed to an order.

  Then there were the closing words. “All my love.” Did he mean them? Did he — could he — actually love her? She didn’t think she had given him much reason to. But why else would he sign it in such a fashion?

  Daisy didn’t want to provide herself that hope once more, but she couldn’t deny that the words caused warmth unlike anything she had ever felt before to course through her. For the truth of it was, she loved him, sincerely, with all of her heart. She had tried to deny it for so long, but as she read the note in front of her over and over again, she couldn’t help the tears from coursing down her cheeks anew. This time, however, they were tears of another sort — not tears of sorrow, but of partial relief over her acceptance of the fact and hope that, despite her best intentions, was now invading its way back into her soul.

  But Daisy was not the type of woman to wait. She was not going to sit around until he determined it was time to come back for her. If he wanted her, he was going to have to accept that she was his, now or never, and no matter what the future held for them. For if he did love her, as she did him, then she knew there was nothing they couldn’t do together.

  Daisy looked up now at the mantel clock in her family’s sitting room. It was two in the afternoon, which would provide her no time to leave today. She would prepare in the next few hours and leave on the morrow — though first, she had to speak with Marigold and ensure all was well in hand.

  Marigold, it turned out, was more than accepting of Daisy’s intentions. She did look a little panicked at the mention of managing most of the work of the inn — overseeing the meals, going to market each day, and the process of preparing for new guests — but she nodded determinately at all Daisy said. Finally, however, she did find a quill pen and paper and began to make notes.

  They were in the midst of this process when their father entered the sitting room, wondering just when did Daisy think she was go
ing out to the marketplace?

  “It’s a slow day, Father,” she said, hardly looking up at him. “Now that the Johnsons have returned to the farmyard, we have no guests.”

  “Dinner must still be prepared for the family,” he said. “And never fear, we have a new influx of guests arriving next week.”

  He looked pleased as he said it, and Daisy couldn’t help raising an eyebrow to him.

  “Men from the war effort, perhaps?” she asked dryly, but all he did was shrug his shoulders.

  Apparently, his first experiment, in Nathaniel’s stay, had been considered a success.

  “I have to speak to you of something, Father,” she said, her chin set and her words emerging just as her mother walked in behind him. “I must be going — at least for a time.”

  “Go?” her mother exclaimed. “To the market?”

  “No, Mama. I must go to London.”

  “To London!” her mother and father shouted simultaneously.

  “You cannot!” her father determined.

  “What will we do?” her mother added, her hands in front of her chest, pleading.

  Daisy took a deep breath.

  “You will manage,” she said, realizing that she actually believed it. She had thought that she had to keep everything under her own tight control, but Nathaniel was right — her family had been fine before she looked after things, and they would be able to do so again. “Marigold is more than prepared to go to the marketplace and oversee the preparation of the meals. And Mother, Father, you managed this inn long before I was ever old enough to take any responsibility. I’m sure you will be able to do so again in my absence.”

  “How long will you be gone for?” her mother asked, tears coming to her eyes.

  “I’m not sure,” Daisy replied. She could be gone a week, she could be gone forever — she had no idea. It all depended upon Nathaniel.

  “And you cannot go alone,” her mother continued, her hands waving wildly in the air now as she began to pace around the room.