Papa’s Joy
Page 16
She had sought out the room in desperate need of solitude to sort out her myriad problems, but instead, Daisy found herself caught up in a puzzle. Just before she stood, something caught her eye. Crawling under the bed, she found a leather-bound book tucked into the ropes beneath the mattress. Settling herself into an armchair near the window, Daisy inspected her find. The front cover said Lady Gwendolyn Kensington.
Ah. Now we are getting somewhere. Lady Gwendolyn, whomever she might be, belonged to Papa’s family. But how? The answers, she felt certain, were contained within the pages of this book. The large lock on the cover indicated it must hold any number of delicious secrets.
To read another’s private thoughts was the height of rudeness and Daisy had a brief war with her conscience before removing another pin from her hair and popping the lock. Daisy carefully opened the cover where she found an inscription.
To Gwen on the occasion of her sixteenth birthday. Now you will have a place to keep your secrets, since you are loathe to share them with me. With affection, your brother, Edward.
Daisy gasped then covered her mouth and peered at the door for fear she had alerted those beyond the room of her presence therein.
Her papa had a sister? Daisy focused on the date of Papa’s inscription. Four years ago. Which would make Gwen, as Daisy now wished to call her, approximately twenty years of age. Only one year older than Daisy. She clasped the diary to her chest. She had always wanted a sister! Perhaps she was simply visiting relations in another part of the country or at the seaside and would be home soon. Maybe Papa meant it as a surprise for her and that was why he told her not to enter the room.
She really ought to return the diary to its hiding place as it would not do for sisterly relations if Lady Gwen came home and learned Daisy had been snooping.
But...reading just a few pages would help her to know her new sister, so she could be a better sister herself. Would it not?
She turned to page one and was immediately intrigued.
* * *
It had taken every bit of Kensington pride he could muster for Edward to maintain his composure long enough to send Lady Hamilton and her daughter on their way. For any guest, he would have exerted the effort, but it was especially important in the case of Lady Hamilton, a notorious gossip.
He had meant what he said when he had told Daisy he wished for her to know his neighbors, but his primary object was to develop a friendship between his wife and a young woman of similar age, Lady Millicent, whom he considered a more than suitable companion for his young bride. Her mother, however, was another matter. Dour and imperious, he hated to think of the impact she might have on his sweet, naive Daisy.
Much as he was anxious over his wife’s disappearance, he had not wanted to give Lady Hamilton even a modicum of a hint of anything amiss. The last thing he desired was for himself or Daisy to be the object of gossip or Lady Hamilton’s general meddling. While his mother had been alive, Lady Hamilton had mostly kept her opinions to herself and maintained a polite distance from Edward’s affairs. His sister, Gwen, had had her share of run ins with Lady Hamilton as the older woman sought to assert herself into their lives after their parents passed away.
Despite his disquiet over his missing wife, Edward felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips as he remembered Gwen going on a particularly unladylike rant after Lady Hamilton had sent over her maid to arrange Gwen’s hair for a ball. The maid had brought along a note from her ladyship.
My dearest Gwendolyn, I hope you will not mind but I did not find your most recent hairstyle flattering and so I have taken it upon myself to send Maggie to arrange your hair. I have given her an illustration from the latest issue of my favorite fashion magazine as a guide. I am sure you will be pleased and no doubt the gentlemen will take notice too.
He chuckled at the recollection of her seething response to their neighbor’s interference. His heart ached with missing her. Daisy had done a great deal to fill the void created in his soul by the death of his sister. He had not really understood the breadth of his loss until the missing pieces started filling in as his affection for Daisy grew. Still, there would always be a part of him that would never heal from the loss of his sister and his profound guilt over the event.
All these thoughts rambled through his mind as he turned from the door and rushed to find the butler, hopeful Daisy had been located. His hopes were for naught, as he could tell before even asking.
“I am very sorry, my lord,” the butler said, “I wish I had good news for you, but no one has seen Lady Kensington since breakfast. All of the staff are looking for her, though I have cautioned them to be discreet. I know you would not care for the entire neighborhood to know your business.”
“Thank you,” Edward said. His hands balled up into fists at his sides while an uncharacteristic urge to strike something unfurled within him. He resisted, knowing it would not do anything to bring his wife back to him. Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to remain calm and think about where Daisy might have gone.
An image came to mind.
No, it could not be. He had explicitly told her not to go in there.
And yet, somewhere deep in his soul, he knew precisely where he would find his little wife. Taking the stairs two at a time, he ascended to the second floor and glanced down the hallway. His heart thudded in his chest, as it always did whenever he got too close to Gwen’s room. Forcing himself to move forward, he noticed a sliver of light showing under the closed door.
Someone was in there, and he would wager his entire estate the occupant was a vixen with soulful brown eyes, a propensity to talk too much, and soon, a very sore bottom.
How dare she disobey him? Is this where she had been all morning while the household had been turned upside down looking for her? Why had she not responded when her name had been called? He paused for a moment and realized he had not heard any raised voices. Of course not, the staff knew better than to speak in anything other than hushed tones and the butler had surely impressed upon them the need for discretion while Lady Hamilton remained within the house.
Carefully he turned the knob and opened the door.
* * *
Daisy stared down at Lady Gwen’s diary.
Blast and damnation, but that woman infuriates me. I hate the notion of my very first entry in this beautiful diary which Edward bestowed upon me being filled with vitriol, but in the case of Lady Hamilton, I do not believe it can be avoided. The woman is vile. How she managed to produce a child as kindly as Lady Millicent, I shall never understand.
As if it were not horrid enough that she imposed upon what was to be a small, private, family birthday celebration, she then had the temerity to speak to me as though she was my own dearly departed mother.
Oh, it causes the bile to rise at the mere thought of her believing herself equal to my mother. It was on the tip of my tongue to give her a good thrashing. Fortunately, Edward gave her a sufficient, yet polite, dressing down which had her briefly cowed until we were able to oust her from our home.
The woman has a nerve, I shall give her credit for that.
Daisy chuckled to herself. She and Lady Gwen were of a similar mindset and she looked forward to a fast friendship with her.
Despite her intentions to only read a page or two and then quickly inform the household of her safety, Daisy found herself caught up in the writings of Papa’s sister. It was even better than Miss Wickersham’s romance novels.
The final entry was dated two years ago.
Tonight shall be the night. I am giddy with excitement, which I am determined to control so as not to tip my hand to Edward. Ever since the incident with Mrs. Paisley, the horrid companion he hired for me, he has been watching me like a hawk. Perhaps I ought to appreciate his concern, but if he really cared, he would accompany me himself rather than sending me to balls and cotillions with a dowdy old woman. ‘Twould do him a world of good to engage in the season as well. Perhaps a wife would help him to enjoy life a bit more. As i
I have attempted to cajole him into escorting me, but to no avail. I had expected my poor behavior would have motivated him to oversee my activities himself, but he never has time.
No matter. I have found a man who does have time to pay attention to me. Lord Caverly. Is not the name dashing and romantic? He is to meet me at his family carriage after dinner at tonight’s ball at Bolton Manor.
If Edward finds out, he shall have my hide.
Daisy turned the page, eagerly anticipating a report on Lady Gwen’s evening with Lord Caverly, but the page was empty. The entire balance of the diary was devoid of words.
Had Lady Gwen run off with Lord Caverly and left her diary behind? Where was she now?
Her own plight forgotten, she stood to go in search of Papa and ask him about his sister, Gwen.
However, no search was necessary as Papa stood somberly in the doorway, arms folded over his chest, a dark look in his eyes.
Chapter 17
The leather bound volume fell from Daisy’s fingers and thudded against the floor, but neither Daisy nor her papa moved to retrieve it. Daisy stared at Papa and he stared right back. Her stomach fell to her toes and a bad feeling wrapped around her like a heavy cloak.
She licked her lips and tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry.
“Papa,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I-I know you told me not to come in here and I am truly sorry I disobeyed you.” Papa continued to stare, not one muscle moved and his ongoing silence unnerved Daisy more than if he had shouted at her. In her nervousness, she began to chatter. Anything to fill the silence. “Please, Papa, do not be angry with me. I-I needed some time to myself and when I remembered this room, I thought it would not be a problem if I snuck in for just a few minutes and then left. Though now I can see it was a very bad idea and I ought not to have done it. I am extremely sorry, Papa.”
“The door was locked.”
“Well, yes, that is true, Papa. But if you do not mind me saying so, the lock was easily picked. You see, my friend Cynny taught me how to do that back at Talcott House. She used to unlock the sugar cabinet, as I have mentioned before.” Papa glared at her and Daisy tried to refocus her thoughts. “Normally I would not have tried to open the door, but as I said, I was feeling sort of frantic and overwhelmed and needed some time alone and I honestly and truly did not imagine it would be a problem because I planned to only be in here for a few minutes but then I found the book and could not stop reading it and I am so very extremely absolutely sorry to have upset you. You are upset, are you not?”
“Oh, yes. You may be assured of it.” Papa finally moved from the doorway and Daisy felt a flutter of apprehension as he approached her, but she forced herself not to step back. Her papa would never truly harm her, she reassured herself.
He stooped down to retrieve the diary and when he looked at the cover, his eyebrows shot up and he turned to Daisy. “Where did you get this?” His voice had an edge to it which she had never heard before.
She licked her lips again and pointed a shaky finger at the bed. “It wa-was under there, beneath the mattress.”
Papa ran his fingers over the cover of the book, then opened it to the inscription. Daisy watched his eyes as they moved across the page. In an instant, the anger drained out of him and was replaced with a profound sadness. Daisy could see the change just from looking at his eyes. She stepped forward and touched his hand. “Papa?” When he looked up from the diary, the grief in his expression broke her heart and she wound her arms around his waist and buried her face against his chest, squeezing as hard as she could, praying her love would make him feel better.
They remained that way for several moments. Daisy almost wished Papa had continued to be angry, because anger can disappear quickly. But sadness, well, sadness lingers. It might disappear for a brief time, but then it resurfaces again at unexpected moments. She had experienced enough sadness in her life to know that.
Finally Papa’s arms slipped around her shoulders and pulled her close, the diary dropped to the floor and he buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply as though trying to fill his lungs with her. Daisy, somehow sensing his need for her to remain quiet, managed to hold her tongue and simply focus on imbuing Papa with as much love as her little heart could.
With a heavy sigh, Papa pulled away and looked into her face, cupping it between his hands. His gaze roved over her face the way a thirsty man might look at a cool glass of water. Without preamble, his mouth covered hers in a searing kiss, so intense, so filled with emotions, tears came to Daisy’s eyes. It was as though, in one crushing kiss, Papa revealed his soul to her.
When he finally released her lips, he rested his forehead against hers while they both caught their breath. “Papa,” she ventured, fearful of going forward but knowing the question had to be asked, the topic too important to be brushed aside, “wh-what happened to Lady Gwen? Why is she not here, with you? Why did she leave without her diary? Did she run off with Lord Caverly?”
Papa let out a shaky breath. Daisy felt it rumble through his chest as she continued to cling to him. Perhaps she had crossed a line by asking so many questions. Yet, she had to know the answers. And somewhere deep in her womanly soul, she knew Papa needed to talk to someone about this most deep dark secret—the very same dark secret Lady Miselda must have been referring to while she read Daisy’s palm. Oh no. Her chest tightened with sadness as she waited for Papa to answer her questions. What had happened to Lady Gwen?
* * *
Edward gathered Daisy in his arms and moved to sit in the chair nearest the window, his disobedient wife snuggled in his lap. He had been so filled with rage when he saw her in his sister’s room, just as calm as you please, as though she had not a care in the world and his words of warning—not to mention a locked door—had meant nothing to her. He had forced himself not to move or utter a sound for several moments because he feared what might happen if he allowed the rage to direct his words and deeds.
And then, when he touched the journal which had been his gift to Gwen, sadness and grief had enveloped him so profoundly, there had been no room for rage. Only his personal anguish.
It was an anguish so deep and so profound he did not allow it to see the light of day. For the past two years since his sister's death, he had stamped down these feelings. Despite his best efforts, of course, they often reared their ugly heads. He had begun to feel lighter and more at peace since meeting his beloved Daisy, but all of that vanished upon entering his deceased sister’s bedchamber moments ago.
He realized he could no longer hide this part of himself from his little wife. He had hoped he could simply lock the door on the part of himself which had died when his sister did and with a new love in his life he would be able to completely move forward. But he realized now that until he shared Gwen’s story with Daisy he could never get past it.
He had, on several different occasions, considered sharing that detail of his life with his bride. Eventually she would want to know or someone else would reveal the story of his sister and it was better for him to be the one to share the tale with Daisy.
Part of his reluctance in telling Daisy about Gwen was her propensity to pepper him with questions. And thinking about his sister and her death churned up so many emotions within him, he did not know if he could answer her questions without completely losing patience with her.
But over the course of the last few minutes he had been shocked by Daisy’s reluctance to speak. Somehow she understood what he needed from her was simply her silent strength and love. He would have never guessed one as tiny and delicate as his Daisy could have such strength and impart it to him, but she had. Her sweet and uncomplicated devotion to him, her unrestrained desire simply for him to be happy and to be a good wife to him allowed her to be precisely who he needed her to be in that moment.
And yet she had disobeyed him. In a most profound way. Punishment would need to be swift and sure, but not until he had explained the story of his sister, Gwendolyn.
He cleared his throat and began. “My sister, Gwen, was several years my junior. I had been an only child for many years before she came along and I admit when she arrived, I was a bit resentful. However, it did not take long for her to become the most important person in my world. As a young child she looked up to me and I did my best to protect her and to be a good influence upon her. In return she was impish and mischievous and caused me no end to my troubles as well as numerous headaches, and yet she also made me smile and laugh. Does that sound like anyone you know, my sweet Daisy?”
“Oh Papa,” Daisy said, “She sounds like a most wonderful sister and I cannot imagine that I could ever measure up to the devotion you have for her.” And then again to his surprise she stopped speaking and waited patiently for him to continue.
“Our parents died within a short time of each other, leaving me the full care and responsibility for my sister who was only fourteen at the time. At first it was not so difficult as we were both distraught over the loss of our parents, but over time, Lady Gwen began to think of her future. In the time since our parents died, she matured into a lovely young lady and at sixteen she engaged in her first London season.”
“Yes, I know,” Daisy said. “I read about some of her exploits. She sounds like a young lady full of starch.”
“Oh, she was full of things that's for sure,” Edward said. “I hired a companion to assist her in navigating the many balls and social events of the season. I suppose I ought to have been the one to take the lead on those things but I was ill-equipped to know the difference between one lace or another and which hairstyles were the most popular. And so I hired the best I could to carry out that chore for my beloved sister, never dreaming that anyone would be able to get around such a staunch and stern woman, though I suppose if anyone could it would be my sister Gwen. During the many different social occasions my sister became friends with a couple of young ladies who were not the most well-behaved and would not have been my choice of companions for her. However I had buried myself in the task of running the estate which had been left in my care and I shall admit I paid little attention to the activities of my sister.”
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