Rules for Reforming a Rake

by Meara Platt

  Auguste put his hand on Daisy’s elbow. “The dancing has started. I believe this waltz is mine.”

  Daisy shook back to the present and glanced around at the other couples already on the floor. All were eager for the real fun to start now that the harp recital was over and the chairs had been cleared away. “Indeed it is, my lord.”

  Auguste, his expression suddenly serious, escorted her onto the floor and drew her into his arms. “Tonight I claim a waltz,” he whispered smoothly in her ear, “but very soon I shall claim your heart... as you have claimed mine, my dearest.”

  Daisy gaped at Auguste, paying no heed to the dancers now whirling about them or her own steps as her body turned numb. “My lord, I fear you’ve also imbibed too much this evening.”

  He arched an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and anger, though he quickly hid that darker, angry response. “Do you not feel the same about me?”

  “Perhaps,” she said, hoping to lighten the conversation, “if you did not attempt to claim the heart of every young lady you met this evening. Lord Dayne isn’t the only scoundrel. You do have a reputation, you know.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “You are utterly delightful. Upon my oath, these words have been spoken to no one but you.”

  Which wasn’t quite true. She’d seen him sneak off with another young lady earlier this evening, but had no intention of confronting him about it, for she’d done the same with Gabriel. She said nothing more, allowing Auguste to twirl her about the room in time to the music.

  She and Auguste didn’t know each other very well. Perhaps he wished to remedy that oversight, for he had been attentive to her throughout the evening, and had taken pains to charm her family. He’d said all the right things, whispered all the pretty words that Daisy longed to hear from Gabriel and never would.

  She glanced up and saw that Auguste’s gaze was on yet another young lady. Was he silently arranging another tryst in the Baldridge gardens? Two seductions in one night, and the night wasn’t over yet!

  Nonetheless, she tried hard to like Auguste. Truly she did, for Auguste had many worthy attributes—wealth, title, good looks. But there was obviously something lacking, something about him that didn’t feel right, and it was more than his wandering eye for the ladies.

  Perhaps it was the fact that he’d never attempted to kiss her. She had supposedly claimed his heart, he’d just told her so. Yet, he behaved nothing like a man in love. In truth, he seemed more in love with himself than with anyone else.

  He was quite agreeable and polite with her, but he certainly didn’t tingle at her touch, nor did his heart thump madly whenever he glanced at her. Indeed, the smile on his face appeared forced, and his light touches seemed calculated, as though timed at precise intervals.

  Daisy couldn’t shake the feeling that Auguste found her tedious. Was it possible the Malinors needed an infusion of capital to maintain their business enterprises and were now waging a campaign to capture her trust fund?

  Great balls of cheese! She was eager for this interminable night to end.

  A month into her debut season and all she had to show for it was Gabriel, a man who didn’t want her for his wife, and Auguste, a man who wanted her only for her money.

  What more could a debutante ask for?

  ***

  Daisy rode home in Eloise’s carriage hoping for the chance to confide in her, but the old dear was exhausted and began to drift off shortly after the start of their ride. “Have you finished Lady Forsythia’s book?” she managed to ask with a yawn as the carriage drew away from the Baldridge home.

  Daisy nodded. “Most of it. Only two chapters to go.”

  “Good. Make sure you finish them soon.” That said, Eloise had closed her eyes and was soon lightly snoring.

  Daisy’s parents and the rest of the family had piled into the Farthingale carriages and departed shortly ahead of them.

  After seeing Eloise to her bed, Daisy slowly walked next door to her home and was about to retire to her bedchamber when her father called to her on the stairs. “There you are, child.” He had a broad smile on his lips as he summoned her into his study.

  The family elders were gathered there, several of her uncles standing with fluted champagne glasses filled and raised as though in expectation of a celebration. Daisy returned their smiles, honored to be included among the elders—until her father explained the reason for everyone’s good cheer.

  Daisy paled and took a step back. “Auguste Malinor? Is this a jest? No! No! I won’t marry him! You can’t make me do it!”

  A sea of surprised faces returned her horrified stare, no one saying a word until Julia let out a shriek and grabbed her by the elbow. “Impossible child! Are you attics-to-let? The son of England’s finance miniter has just offered for you. A viscount in his own right. If you refuse him, not only will you damage your reputation, but you’ll ruin my chances with his father. Do you care so little for me? For Harry’s future?”

  Daisy tugged out of her grasp and raised her hands in exasperation. She turned to her father, silently pleading for his understanding. “There must be some mistake. I’m certain that Auguste doesn’t love me.”

  Her father frowned as he lifted an elegant paper off his desk. “Not according to his letter.”

  “He wrote to you? When did he have the chance? We left the Baldridge home less than an hour ago.”

  Uncle Rupert regarded her in confusion, his bushy eyebrows raised. “He must have written the letter earlier, preparing to send it after the musicale. Why are you so surprised? We all noticed that he didn’t leave your side all evening.”

  She tried to deny it, for he’d been busily arranging his trysts whenever not with her. “He’d hardly spent any time with me until today. We hadn’t spoken more than two words to each other before then.”

  Uncle George stepped forward, his manner calm amidst the increasingly angry mumbles of the other elders. “He claims to love you, Daisy,” he said kindly, for he had always had a soft spot in his heart for his nieces. “The important question is, do you love him?”

  “No! And I never will! No! No! Never!”

  “You’ve made your point,” George muttered, casting her an indulgent grin to convey that she had been sufficiently emphatic in her response. Nodding, he folded his arms across his chest and turned to face her father. “That settles it, John. You’ll have to refuse young Malinor. It’s obvious that your daughter doesn’t love him.”

  Daisy’s mother frowned at her and then at her uncle. “George, you know I’ve always respected your opinion, but in this I must ask you not to meddle. She’s our child and we know what’s best for her. Ever since last year’s unfortunate incident with Lord Kirwood’s son, we’ve all been worried about her lack of judgment. I had hoped the Kirwood matter would teach her to be more prudent, but it hasn’t. She has since gotten herself entangled with Lord Gabriel Dayne and we all know he’s a wastrel.” Her frown deepened as she turned to Daisy. “He’s a bad influence on you and the sooner you’re properly settled, the better. Your father will accept Lord Malinor’s offer.”

  Daisy’s heart sank into her stomach. “No!”

  “Yes,” was the general consensus among the family members, everyone nodding save Uncle George, whose opinion no longer seemed to matter. His objections were drowned out along with Daisy’s pleas. “It isn’t fair!” she insisted. “You can’t make me marry someone I don’t love!” Since her mother would not listen, she turned to her father. “Please, I beg you. Don’t force me into this.”

  “The matter has been decided,” her father said, looking unusually stern. “Get a good night’s rest, child. You’re confused and don’t know your own thoughts. I’ll respond to Lord Malinor’s offer in the morning. Sleep on it and you’ll come to know that your mother and I are right.”

  Tears welled in Daisy’s eyes. “Father, please! Don’t accept him. I’d rather remain a spinster for the rest of my days.”

  “My sweet child.” In two
strides, he was at her side, taking her into his arms and hugging her tightly. “I can’t bear to see you cry. We only have your best interests at heart. Sleep on it, Daisy. Please. Come morning you’ll see that you and young Malinor will make a brilliant match.”

  Her throat went dry and her heart felt as though it was about to rip from her chest. “We won’t,” she insisted, her voice strangled and raspy. “Doesn’t it seem odd to you? Why would he ask me now? Something doesn’t feel right.”

  Her mother stepped forward, hoping to ease her concerns. “You make a lovely couple. Everyone remarked on it at Lady Baldridge’s this evening.”

  “We were polite to each other, that’s all. We aren’t suited. We’ll make each other miserable.” She shot another desperate pleading glance at her parents. “Am I to be the only Farthingale forbidden to marry for love?”

  “What do you know of love?” her mother said gently, but with an undercurrent of steel in her voice that Daisy knew could not bode well. “Child, you’re good-hearted and charming, but you’ve shown a complete lack of sense when it comes to men. We have no choice but to protect you from your own misguided choices. The matter is settled. I won’t hear another word about it. Either you willingly accept Lord Malinor, or you shall be banished forever from this house. From this family!”

  “Sophie!” Her father stared at his wife, obviously aghast.

  “Don’t soften, John. She’s our daughter and I won’t have her throw away her chance at happiness when Auguste is so obviously suitable.”

  “Suitable!” Daisy’s eyes widened in anger. “Is that what I’m to be saddled with for the rest of my life? A husband who’s merely adequate?” She curled her hands into fists to control her frustration. “Is that all you feel for Father? Because I’m sure that I see your eyes brighten and a smile cross your lips every time he walks through the door. And Father responds exactly the same way whenever he sets his eyes on you. Why can’t I have that for myself? It’s all I ask.”

  She closed her eyes and held her breath.

  “Daisy...” Her mother cleared her throat, her voice sounding a little ragged as though she were trying to stop her own tears. “I will not bend on this. Either you accept Auguste Malinor or you shall leave this house right now.”

  ***

  “Daisy? Goodness, what are you doing here? Has something happened to little Harry?” Laurel yawned as she hurriedly waddled into her parlor, having been awakened by her maid and told her sister was downstairs urgently needing to speak to her. Laurel’s enormous belly peeked out from her robe, for she had casually tossed it on and not bothered to properly fasten the ties.

  Daisy gave her sister a fervent hug. “No, Harry’s fine. Everyone’s fine.”

  “Except you,” Laurel remarked, hugging her back. When Daisy continued to hold on to her, she gently pried herself away and sank onto one of the fat-cushioned chairs beside the unlit hearth. “What’s wrong? What has happened?”

  Even when swollen and uncomfortable, Laurel looked beautiful. Daisy marveled at her sister’s radiance. Her cheeks were as pink as rose petals and her dark gold curls tumbled over her shoulders in reckless abandon. That was Laurel’s nature, to be wild and reckless, and outspoken, yet the family had allowed her to marry for love.

  For this reason, Laurel was the best person to speak to her parents on her behalf. She’d convince them to arrive at the same decision for her.

  “I’m so sorry,” Daisy winced at the tremor in her voice, for she was about to cry again. “I shouldn’t have disturbed you so early in the morning. It isn’t yet dawn.”

  “Not yet dawn?” Laurel rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “I wasn’t sure. My schedule’s been off quite badly lately, so I thought I had simply overslept. All the more reason to tell me everything. What’s going on?”

  Daisy began to wring the gloves she held in a death grip. “Something awful. I’m frightened and don’t know where else to turn.”

  Laurel struggled to her feet and came to Daisy’s side. “Who frightened you? Graelem will load his pistols and shoot the bounder.”

  “No, it isn’t quite that. He needn’t shoot anyone for me.” She took a deep breath and began to explain. “You see, the family—”

  “Them? What have the Farthingales done now?”

  Daisy tipped her chin into the air. “They’ve banished me.”

  Laurel shook her head and laughed, but her laughter quickly faded at the sight of Amos carrying Daisy’s trunk into the house. “Goodness! You’re serious. You know you’re always welcome here, even in the dead of night. I love your visits. Ah, I see it’s to be a rather long visit.” She turned to Amos and greeted him. “We seem to be keeping you rather busy lately. I’m sorry, Amos.”

  He responded with a grin. “I’m not complaining, Lady Laurel.”

  “You never do,” Daisy chimed in. “I thank you for that.”

  “Amos, take my sister’s things upstairs and put them in the guest bedchamber. Second door on the left. My maid will show you the way.”

  Amos nodded. “Oh, my mum sends her regards.”

  “Send her my best wishes, as well.” Laurel waited until his lumbering footsteps grew faint on the stairs before returning her attention to Daisy. “Take a deep breath and tell me why the family has banished you.”

  Daisy glanced down at the gloves still clenched in her hands and now twisted into Gordian knots. “The most unbelievable reason you can imagine.” She took another deep breath and closed her eyes. “First Gabriel and now this. Oh, Laurel! I simply can’t bear it!” She tried to continue, but the words caught in her throat.

  Laurel sighed. “I see this is going to take a while. Come along. We’ll talk while we eat.” She led Daisy into the breakfast room. “Are you hungry?”

  “No.” She felt ill and couldn’t manage a bite.

  “Well, I’m famished. Oh, I must warn you that Graelem has a visitor.”

  Daisy glanced at her in surprise. “At this hour? It isn’t Lord Malinor, is it?”

  “The finance minister? Heavens, no. Whatever made you think of him? What’s going on? You have me worried now.”

  “How long will Graelem be occupied?”

  Laurel nudged her forward. “Not long.”

  Daisy realized that the only visitor who would be here at this hour was Gabriel, for hadn’t that been the point of his spectacular departure from the Baldridge party? She had no desire to see him. Not now, certainly not in her present state.

  She couldn’t tell him what had just happened.

  “What a divine aroma,” Laurel said, inhaling deeply as they entered the breakfast room. “I love sausages and biscuits in the morning... and afternoon... and evening... and midnight.”

  Daisy stared at the dining table. “Do you mean to say Graelem has hired a cook to attend to you throughout the night?”

  Laurel grinned. “Graelem indulges my every whim. Oh, Daisy, I love him so much. I can’t imagine ever loving anyone else. I hope you marry as well as I have.”

  “Yes, well. I don’t think so.” She followed the scent of biscuits and saw Graelem with his back to her, serving himself from the buffet, even though it wasn’t yet dawn and everyone ought to have been asleep.

  Since Gabriel was nowhere in sight, Daisy hoped he’d finished his business and gone. All the better, for seeing him would only make matters worse. In any event, she wanted a private moment to spill her heart to the two people she trusted most in this world. “The family wants me to—”

  Then she saw they were not alone.

  Gabriel stood half in shadow by the servant’s entrance, his shoulder propped against the door, seeming even larger than his already imposing height. “Daisy, what are you doing here?”

  She stiffened. He was going away. He had a mission. She couldn’t interfere with it, not that he’d necessarily care about her receiving a marriage proposal from Auguste Malinor... Well, perhaps he would care, but only because the two despised each other. They’d made no effort to mask their disd
ain for each other at Lady Baldridge’s musicale.

  “She’s run away from home,” Laurel answered for her.

  Oh, crumpets. “Laurel!”

  “Well, you have. Haven’t you?”

  Daisy turned from her sister to gaze at Gabriel. He looked handsome as ever and not at all drunk. He had on the formal clothes he’d worn earlier this evening, but his sleeves were rolled up as though he’d been working through the night. He hadn’t gone to Curzon Street to visit his mistress—thank goodness, thank goodness, she’d burst into tears if he had—nor had he stopped at his home.

  An alarming thought came into her mind. Was he preparing to leave for France today?

  Gabriel pushed away from the door, a frown marring his brow. “Why have you run away from home?”

  “I can’t tell you.” She’d sworn to wait for Gabriel forever, even though he’d ordered her not to. Indeed, he’d insisted she move on with her life and think no more of him. He couldn’t have meant for her to accept Auguste within hours of vowing to remain true to him. That would make her appear quite scatterbrained and deceitful. “Please, Gabriel. Go away. This is a family matter of an extremely personal nature.”

  “Gabriel is family,” Laurel insisted. “You can tell him anything you tell us.”

  True, he and Graelem were cousins, obviously very dear to each other. But that didn’t make him a relation of hers. Daisy drew aside a chair from the table and sank onto it. “No, not this.”

  “I think it has to do with Lord Malinor,” her sister said.

  Daisy glanced up in alarm. “Laurel! You’re not helping.”

  Gabriel crossed the room and knelt beside her. “What has Lord Malinor to do with your running away from home?”

  “Nothing. Laurel’s mistaken.”

  “Ah, Daisy, you’re a terrible liar.” He tucked a finger under her chin and forced her tearful gaze to meet his determined stare. “Tell me what’s happened or I’ll go straight to Malinor and beat it out of him.”

  Goodness, he was a bear in the wee hours of the morning. Well, so was she. Particularly this disastrous morning. “I will not. It isn’t any of your business.”