A Wallflower's Wish Boxed Set: Three Regency Romances

by Maggie Dallen

He bent down close to her ear. “Will you meet me?”

  Her hands fisted into her skirt but finally she gave the most subtle of nods. “Yes,” she replied as he straightened away. “I will.”

  Chapter Seven

  This was surely a mistake.

  “Someone was paying particular attention to you this evening,” Marigold murmured to Daisy’s left.

  She ducked her head, but that did not stop the stares and the whispers that had followed in the duke’s wake.

  “If you bend your head down any lower you will dip your nose in your soup,” Lily teased from her other side.

  Daisy gave a grudging laugh as she lifted her chin. Lily was right, of course. It was not as though she could hide in the midst of the dining room. But what she wouldn’t give for a moment alone to gather her thoughts.

  She’d gone into this evening with a plan.

  Avoid the duke.

  It hadn’t been an ingenious plan, but the beauty had been in its simplicity. She could not fall prey to her childish infatuation if she stayed far, far away from the dashing duke.

  Childish infatuation? A voice seemed to taunt her.

  Her childish feelings might have been responsible for her silly reaction upon first seeing him the prior evening in the ballroom, but the conversation they’d had today, the way they’d laughed and talked so easily, the way it had felt to be held in his arms…

  There was nothing childish about it.

  “What did he say to you just now?” Marigold asked.

  “What do you mean?” Daisy toyed with the edges of a napkin as she avoided her friends’ questioning looks.

  “She means, what did he say to make you blush so?” Lily asked, laughter in her voice.

  “I, uh...I…” She did not even wish to tell her friends about his suggestion. She knew they would not judge, and they would not give her away if she chose to slip away to meet him…

  But that was precisely the problem.

  She had not decided.

  She’d said she would, but she could still cry off, could she not? Surely he would not be angry if she were to tell him that she did not feel comfortable sneaking around without a chaperone or her parents’ approval.

  She snuck a peek down the length of the table and saw the duke...glowering.

  For some reason the sight made her want to laugh.

  “And now she’s smiling,” Marigold murmured, leaning forward to speak to Lily as if Daisy were not there.

  “I see that.” Lily eyed her. “Are you going to tell us what’s going on between you and your duke or—”

  “Hush,” she whispered, keenly aware of the stares she was receiving from the ladies who sat across from them. “He is not my anything. And there is nothing going on.”

  Lily sighed. “First he rescues you from a runaway horse, and now he escorts you to dinner, but...nothing is going on, you say?”

  Daisy cursed the heat that burned her cheeks as she turned her gaze to her friends with a sigh. Nothing was going on. Nothing could go on. He’d made his feelings about love and marriage abundantly clear, and so had she.

  There was no future there.

  Feelings would be futile.

  Only a fool would let her hopes run away with her.

  “There is nothing going on,” she said again, this time with more certainty.

  “If that’s true,” Marigold whispered beside her, “then why is he staring at you?”

  Her gaze darted back in his direction and...sure enough. His eyes fixed on her, his gaze boring into her with that grim intensity that was so uniquely him.

  “Ugh, look away,” Lily said to Marigold. “We cannot all be caught staring.”

  Daisy dropped her eyes as well, though it seemed absurdly difficult to tear her gaze away.

  “Is he still looking this way?” she whispered after a long moment.

  She didn’t really need to ask. She could still feel the weight of his stare.

  “Mmhmm,” Lily murmured. “And his friend is staring, too.” Her sigh was world weary. “I cannot approve of this duke based on who he chooses to be friends with.”

  That had her and Marigold looking again. “Lord Merrick?” Marigold guessed.

  Lily made a decidedly unladylike grunting noise as she ate. “He’s my brother’s best friend and the bane of my existence.”

  “He’s looking at you right now,” Marigold informed her.

  “No doubt trying to find fault so he can chastise me at some later date,” Lily said.

  Daisy laughed, happy to be thinking about anyone other than the duke, if even for a moment. “Is he really so sanctimonious?”

  “Oh yes,” Lily said pertly. “Sanctimonious and smug. He’s a walking paragon of virtues, that one, and he never lets anyone forget it.”

  “He sounds horrid,” Marigold said with a laugh.

  Lily made a sound of agreement as the servants placed the first course in front of them. “I just have to avoid him, that is all.”

  Daisy nodded. Avoidance. That had been her plan as well. But she could not have foreseen the duke’s peculiar attentions this evening. She snuck a peek in his direction but this time his attention was diverted by the gentleman across from him.

  What could he wish to discuss with her?

  Throughout dinner curiosity warred with self-preservation and by the time the ladies retired to the music room she was no closer to knowing what she ought to do.

  In the end it was her feet that made the decision for her.

  She found herself drifting toward the doors that led to the veranda as if they had a will of their own. Her heart fluttering wildly in her chest, she told herself she would just peek outside to see if he was out there waiting.

  And if he was…?

  She swallowed a wave of nerves as she drew close, keenly aware of her mother’s loud laughter coming from the other side of the room. Totally distracted by the conversation going on around her. Not even a little suspicious.

  It wouldn’t even occur to her to keep a watchful eye on Daisy, who had never once defied her mother or attempted to rendezvous with a handsome gentleman…

  The thought did nothing to help her nerves.

  The fact that all she could see through the door’s windows was the reflection of the music room’s candlelit glow didn’t help either. Impatience and irritation overrode caution.

  She just wanted to see if he was out there. It wouldn’t do to keep a duke waiting, surely. Even her mother would agree on that count.

  And that reasoning was how she came to be on the other side of the glass doors. On the veranda...and slipping into the shadows.

  “You came.” His growling voice coming from the darkened corner made her shiver despite the warm summer air.

  She hesitated on the edge of the shadows, ready to duck back inside as nerves got the best of her.

  But then a hand darted out of the dark, grasped hers and gave a tug. She stumbled toward him, not stopping until she bumped into him. He caught her by the arms before she could go reeling back from the force of running into such a solid object.

  Solid and tall. He towered over her and while she knew she ought to take a step back—while she knew she ought to run away, if she had any sense at all—she could not bring herself to move away.

  Her heart pounded furiously as a silence fell over them that was only broken by the sound of their breathing, a sound that seemed far too intimate.

  Much too wonderful.

  With one finger beneath her chin, he tilted her face up to meet his. Even in the shadows, she could make out his features, harsh and severe. But it was the look in his eyes that held her captive, unable to move even if she wanted to.

  They were filled with a heat she’d never seen before.

  It matched a heat inside her that she’d never felt before.

  “I’m glad you came,” he said.

  That broke her out of her trance. “If I am caught—”

  “There is nothing to fear,” he said. “I will p
rotect your reputation.”

  “I-I—” She clamped her mouth shut, at a loss as to what to say to that. “What did you wish to discuss?”

  Why or why did she sound like she’d just been running? She drew in a deep breath, but it was no use. Her lungs couldn’t seem to get enough air, and her heart was racing away from her.

  “Marriage.”

  Her heart was thudding so loudly for a moment she was sure she’d misheard. “Pardon?”

  “I wish to discuss marriage, Daisy.”

  “T-to whom?”

  His lips quirked up at the corners. “Marriage to you. If you are amenable, of course.”

  She blinked rapidly, trying desperately to calm her breathing before she fainted dead away at his feet.

  “I need to speak to your father, of course,” he continued. His voice was phenomenally calm. Excessively cool. “But I wanted to discuss it with you first to ensure this would be something you desire.”

  Desire. Was it her imagination or did that word echo off the tiles beneath her feet? The word seemed to surround her and make her head spin.

  “I-I—” She swallowed. “I need to think.”

  That small hint of a smile faded into a frown and his brows drew down in a fierce scowl.

  “It is just that…” Her heart shot up into her throat, making speech impossible. Her mind was racing with so many thoughts it was impossible to catch one. And her heart…

  Well, her heart seemed to be stumbling about, knocking into her ribcage one moment and then aching fiercely the next.

  “You are surprised,” he said.

  She nodded quickly. Yes. Surprise. That was definitely one of the emotions she was experiencing. For the first time since he’d said the M-word she managed to meet his gaze head-on and the intensity there grounded her.

  For a moment her head stopped spinning and the full force of what he was suggesting hit her.

  She would be a duchess.

  She would be married to the Duke of Dolan. The man she’d been in love with for so many years. The man who’d saved her life and made her laugh and asked her what she wanted and…

  Something dangerous flared to life inside her. It was light and giddy and filled her with a glimpse of overwhelming happiness, it left her shaking and terrified a moment later.

  “I thought you did not want…” She swallowed and tried again. “This is, I thought you wanted…”

  “A partnership,” he finished when it became clear that speech was beyond her capabilities at this particular time. “Yes, that is precisely what I am looking for. After our afternoon together today it seems to me that you would make an excellent duchess.”

  “But I am not...That is…”

  Oh why was she protesting? This was a dream come true.

  He was her dream come true.

  But that was just it, she realized with a sickening jolt. He had not mentioned feelings. He definitely had not mentioned love. He’d merely mentioned...a partnership.

  “Why me?” she asked.

  There was that flicker of a smile again. “Is that what has you so flustered?” His low chuckle was affectionate. “I assure you, I know what I am looking for in a partner and you are a good fit. You have a good head on your shoulders, you do not seem to crave the entertainments of society. We are able to get on companionably… And then, of course, there is your youth and lineage. You would make a fine mother for the next heir to the dukedom.”

  His words rained down on her. Each one burned her skin until she felt raw, her hands shaking as she clasped them together in front of her.

  Her silence lasted too long, apparently, because he shifted closer, wrapping his arms around her waist as music swelled from the music room, reminding them both how close they were to discovery.

  But of course that was why he did not mind discovery. He aimed to marry her anyway.

  “Well?” he prompted, his head dipping low so that low rumble was right next to her ear. “What do you say?”

  Her breath was coming in short gasps. He must have felt it on his cheek.

  What did she say?

  To a partnership?

  A hysterical giggle rose up in her before she could stop it and he pulled back slightly to look at her face when it escaped on a huff of air.

  “Did I say something amusing?” His voice was droll and the curve of his lips took the sting out of his teasing.

  She shook her head quickly. “I’m sorry, it is just...this is such a shock.”

  He arched one brow. “Not an unpleasant one, I hope.”

  He said it to be polite. There was no hint of doubt in his eyes. He seemed so confident. So sure of her answer.

  And why shouldn’t he be?

  He was a duke. He was wealthy and powerful and the most ideal match any girl of her station could hope for.

  But he didn’t love her.

  He wouldn’t love her. He’d made that abundantly clear.

  As she gazed up at him, she knew...she just knew...she would fall in love with him. Maybe she already had when she was a child. But their time together today made it an absolute certainty.

  If given half a chance, her heart would be his. She’d lost it for good.

  And could she survive a lifetime of loving a man who could not return her feelings?

  That was the question that seemed to chase itself in a never-ending loop as the silence between them grew thick with unspoken words.

  “What is it, Daisy?”

  His use of her given name made her blink. “I need...that is, I told you earlier today that I want…” Heat crept up her neck and her eyes widened with pleading. Do not make me say it.

  It would be too humiliating to ask. Could you love me?

  Would you love me?

  His eyes searched hers and then his lips curved up in a smile that sucked the air from her lungs.

  “You wish for romance.” There was that affectionate amusement again, like she was a child to be indulged.

  She nodded. Romance. Yes. It wasn’t quite what she meant, but it was close enough.

  His smile took on a dangerous, wicked edge as he tipped his head down toward hers. “I am happy to oblige.”

  His lips were warm and firm when they claimed hers in a kiss that stunned her mind into temporary silence. For one blissful moment, all she could do was feel.

  And oh, did she feel.

  She felt the heat of his breath mingling with hers, the warm comfort of his arms wrapped around her, the delicious tingle of his firm lips brushing against hers. Utter bliss as she lost herself to the feel of being cherished and adored.

  Of being...loved.

  The thought broke her out of the moment with a harshness that made her gasp. She pulled back so quickly she stumbled over her own two feet.

  Just like that she was back in reality, the glow and sounds of the music room a vivid reminder of where she was...and with whom.

  His brows were drawn down as he watched her back away.

  “I...I can’t,” she said, one hand coming up to touch her lips.

  If she hadn’t known before, it was so clear to her now. She would lose her heart to this man—maybe she already had.

  But if she were to marry him, her heart wouldn’t just be lost...it would be crushed.

  “I cannot marry you,” she managed through a throat choked with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”

  She turned and ran back inside before he could stop her.

  Chapter Eight

  What had just happened?

  He stared into the candlelit music room, watching as Daisy slipped back into her seat next to her mother as if nothing had happened.

  If he were to be precise, nothing had occurred. He was not engaged. He was not even courting. He was back to exactly where he’d started when he’d come to this dreadful party.

  But then again, everything had just transpired. A kiss, for example. Her lips, soft, warm and achingly responsive. Filled with a sort of romantic tenderness that had made his heart… He pushed
that thought aside.

  What he was attempting to accomplish had little to do with that organ.

  And he’d asked for her hand. Well asked permission to ask for her hand. Permission she’d denied.

  What was that about?

  His gaze narrowed as laughter rose from the crowd of women, mocking the hurt and anger churning in his stomach. At least Daisy did not laugh. Even from here, he could see her mouth set into a frown.

  Her head was bent down, her hands tightly pressed together.

  He turned away, realizing he was unlikely to find any answers as he stared daggers at her from the dark. Her shoulders drooped as her chin tucked into her chest.

  Good. He was glad she didn’t look happy. It wasn’t every day that a woman turned down a duke.

  But why? She’d given no reason, surely that was why her rejection had felt like such a blow. If only she’d explained her decision then maybe he could understand. She’d said she’d wanted romance, and that he could comprehend. She was young. Naive. Every girl wished to feel wanted, he supposed. He’d been more than willing to play along with the pretense of romance, but was that kiss not enough?

  His senses were still reeling from it. Was it possible that she had not felt it too?

  His memory called up the image of her lips parting, the sweet, soft sounds she made, and the dazed look in her eyes when she’d first pulled back.

  She’d felt it. But apparently that was not enough for her.

  Apparently the fact that he was a bloody duke was not enough for her.

  Then again, he was more than a duke, he was a man, and she would not be the first woman to find him lacking...inferior as a prospect for a husband. His chest ached and he scrubbed his face with his hands.

  It was that thought that sent him back through the garden. He’d like to keep walking for miles. His limbs itched for the sort of tired contentment he’d experienced earlier. Instead, his thoughts crashed over him like waves on a beach.

  Not good enough.

  Constantly scowling.

  Distant.

  Boring.

  Weren’t those the words Annabelle had hurled at him constantly in her fits of anger and frustration?

  And Daisy, she’d hinted that he’d been too gruff, too serious.