Lady with a Black Umbrella

by Mary Balogh

  And then he pushed himself decisively to his feet. No, much as the visit to Julia’s needed to be made, he must not use it as an excuse. The visit to Hetty’s was even more urgent. It must be made after luncheon before he did anything else. The idea certainly did not do wonders for his appetite, Lord Kincade thought ruefully.

  ***

  Daisy had not noticed anything different about the atmosphere in the Riplinger ballroom after her return there with Lord Kincade. It was true that she had only three dancing partners for the rest of the evening, and that two of those did not dance very well and the third tried to flirt with her in a manner she thought decidedly silly. She had told him so in the end quite bluntly and had added the chilling news that she was five-and- twenty. She had considered that the end of the matter.

  There were perhaps several different reasons why she did not detect the cuts that many ladies were at such pains to deliver her. First, Daisy had not expected to be the focus of any favorable attention at the ball. She had not even hoped to be noticed. Even the three partners she had were three more than she had expected to have. She was quite delighted.

  Second, she had been busy after her return observing Lady Judith and Lord Powers. They were not together when she entered the ballroom, and stayed apart for the rest of the evening. Lord Powers did not dance, but spent his time talking with other men and doing a great deal of laughing. Judith danced each set and did not look unduly sullen or upset. Daisy hoped she had handled the situation well. She still had much work to do to help that young lady. Scolding her or otherwise sending her into a fit of the sullens would accomplish nothing.

  And her first concern must still be Rose. It had been gratifying to watch her sister dance each set, and to note that several of her partners were young and distinguished-looking. Surely at least one of them was also eligible and already languishing after Rose. It was a pity, she thought, that Rose appeared to tire early. The sparkle disappeared from her eyes and the smile from her lips not long after Daisy returned from downstairs. She was very young, Daisy thought fondly. She would get used to late nights and incessant dancing.

  But despite all these concerns with which she had very deliberately filled her mind, one other had loomed very large there and probably would have made her unaware of the scandal brewing around her even without everything else.

  Lord Kincade had just kissed her!

  Daisy had been kissed several times before when she was younger, pecks on the cheek and on the lips, once a hand against the side of her breast that she had slapped away before soundly slapping also the face belonging to it. But all that had been years ago, when she was young and foolish, before she had grown up and settled into a comfortable spinsterhood.

  She had not remembered that a kiss could be so disturbing, that it necessarily brought one into quite such close proximity to a gentleman. Not just a closeness of body—she had had no idea that a gentleman’s thighs and chest and shoulders could be quite so solid and splendidly muscled—but a closeness of mouths. Lord Kincade's kiss had not been merely a meeting of lips. More, it had been a meeting and intermingling and invasion and tasting of mouths.

  All very disturbing indeed! Her knees had felt decidedly weak and her heart had been palpitating quite uncomfortably at the end of it all. And there had been a foolish disappointment—was that all? No more? She had not felt nearly finished. But finished what? In order to finish, something had to have started. And nothing had started. It had not been an embrace. Lord Kincade had merely been shielding her from the view of the two ladies who had been about to enter the room.

  So it was foolish—of course it was foolish—to find even an hour later that her knees still felt shaky and her breath still short. And foolish to dart glances at him five times in every minute, so tall and handsome and fashionable, and remember that such a thing had happened. She really should have left such silliness behind with her girlhood.

  She had concentrated ultimately on thinking of him as Rose’s possible future husband. It really would be a very splendid match for her. He was heir to an earldom, and was a very distinguished and titled gentleman even apart from that. But Rose would have at least as much to bring to the marriage as he. She was lovely and sweet-natured and, of course, very wealthy.

  And so Daisy had been taken completely by surprise when she found in the carriage home that Lady Hetty was quiet and tight-lipped and Rose quiet and tragic.

  “You both look extremely tired,” she had said. “Perhaps we should have come home earlier.”

  Rose had burst into tears.

  “Rose!” Daisy had said, aghast. “What is it, dear? Did you not enjoy yourself, after all? Was someone unkind to you?”

  “N-no,” Rose had wailed. “It’s y-you, Daisy. Miss Kershaw and her sister were saying horrid things about you and Lord Kincade before they realized I was in their group. About you being d-downstairs alone with him.”

  “Oh, dear,” Daisy had said, “those two did see me after all, did they?”

  “It is true, then?” Rose had asked miserably.

  “Poor Lord Kincade,” Daisy had said. “He was very chivalrous. He tried to hide me from their view because we were alone in the room, you see. I had been down there chaperoning Lady Judith and Lord Powers, and then he came, but I could not let him see them, so I pulled him into an empty room so that they would have time to return upstairs. But those two ladies walked in on us, and Lord Kincade, who had his back to the door, pulled me close so that I would not be seen, and he kissed me so that they would not come in and find out who I was. That was all, Rose. Nothing to get at all excited or upset about, dear.”

  “Oh, dear,” Lady Hetty had said. “I am afraid you do not understand the ways of London society a great deal, my dear. The story had been a great deal embellished, I am afraid, by the time it had made the round of the ballroom. I am afraid your reputation has been severely tarnished.”

  “Well, what utter nonsense!” Daisy had said briskly. “How very foolish people are. As if Lord Kincade would have any interest at all in seriously kissing an aging spinster like myself. You must neither of you take on so. I shall certainly not let any silly gossip bother me at all. And I shall tell anyone who cares to mention the matter to me exactly what happened. Though, of course, I would not be able to mention Lady Judith or Lord Powers.”

  And although Lady Hetty had continued serious and Rose had continued to sniff into her handkerchief, Daisy had refused to admit that the evening had given rise to any problem. She slept quite soundly after only an hour of persuading herself how silly it was to recall and relive every minute detail of an embrace that had not been an embrace at all, and that she would not have wanted to be an embrace anyway.

  ***

  When Lord Kincade arrived at his cousin's house after luncheon, it was to find the three ladies gathered in a sitting room, Daisy with one foot on a stool.

  He looked suspiciously at her when the other two rose, Hetty to receive his kiss on the cheek, Rose to curtsy to him. “You have hurt yourself, Miss Morrison?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She looked down at her foot and shook her head. “I twisted it this morning, I am afraid, when running along Bond Street, and my ankle is swollen. But it is nothing to worry about. There are no bones broken, I think.”

  Running along Bond Street? And without him there to participate in the joy of such a spectacle? “I am sorry about the injury,” he said. “May I ask why you were running? Was there a shop on fire?”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “It is just that I saw one of your assailants from the Golden Eagle Inn and tried to catch him. Silly, was it not? I might have known he would be able to outrun me. I should have used more cunning to effect his capture. I am afraid I frequently act before I think.”

  Yes, Lord Kincade thought, he knew all about that. “One of those three thugs?” he said. “Are you sure?”

  “I do not see how you could be, Daisy,” Rose said. “You saw them only fleetingly in the stableyard, and this morning he was g
one almost before you had seen him. I think it was just your imagination.”

  “No, indeed it was not,” Daisy protested. “I had a very good look at him that morning because he was the one who looked as if he were going to attack me but changed his mind when I poked him in the midriff with my umbrella. It is a good thing he ran when he did, for I might have poked him somewhere else next. And I did have a good look at him this morning. He was grinning at a poor young girl who had upset her basket in the street, and I knew him from the fact that he has teeth only on one side of his mouth. At least that was what made me sure. I recognized him even apart from that.”

  “We were in the carriage on the way to the library,” Lady Hetty explained to the viscount. “We were passing a bootmaker’s when suddenly Daisy shrieked for the coachman to stop and was out of the door before we had even stopped. It is a miracle that she did not break an ankle then.”

  “It was very foolish of me,” Daisy admitted. “Of course, our friend looked to see what was happening, and as soon as he saw me, he took to his heels. I chased after him, but I lost him very quickly.”

  “Tell me,” Lord Kincade said, seating himself in a chair opposite hers. “What were you planning to do if you caught him?”

  “I certainly would have found out who he was and who had set him on to attacking you,” Daisy said.

  “And how were you planning to extract such information from him?” he asked. “If memory serves me correctly, he must be at least four times as large as you, Miss Morrison.”

  “Oh, I had no fear for myself,” she said. “I was not his intended victim last week, after all, and I did have the forethought to grab my parasol as I jumped from the carriage.”

  Lord Kincade stared at her. “Do you not realize what danger you were in, Miss Morrison?” he said, unable to keep the exasperation entirely from his voice. “You must not do such a thing again. I must insist. I want your promise.”

  She smiled. “You need have no worry for me,” she said. “I am well able to look after myself. Ask Rose if that is not so. ”

  Lord Kincade got to his feet and stood in front of the stool on which Daisy’s foot was propped. “You are in London now,” he said, “not in the country. And this morning’s business has cost you a sprained ankle, even though you did not touch the man you were after. He could break you in two without even putting any strain on his muscles. And clearly he is not the local thug, hired by the innkeeper, that I took him for. If you see him again, Miss Morrison, you must not try to apprehend him. And I must have your promise on that. Now!”

  Daisy looked up into his steady gaze. “Well,” she said, “if I see him and do not catch him, who will?”

  “If you do not hold the world on your shoulders, who will stop it from collapsing?” Lord Kincade said quietly.

  “That is silly,” she said.

  “Your promise, Miss Morrison,” he said.

  “Oh, very well,” she said grudgingly. “But I hope I never see that man again, for I know I will find it well nigh impossible to keep my promise if I do.”

  “You will keep it,” Lord Kincade said with conviction. “You will have me to reckon with if you do not.”

  Daisy looked at him with interest.

  “You are a blessing indeed, Giles,” Lady Hetty said with relief. “I was never more frightened in my life than when I realized that Daisy was in pursuit of that great hulk of a man. And as the mother of three sons, I am used to frightening situations. It is a good thing that Lord Powers came along when he did, or Daisy might have fallen to the pavement before either Rose or I could reach her."

  “He was most civil,” Daisy agreed, “and helped me to hop back to the carriage. He was kind enough to offer to carry me, but I did not want to draw attention to myself. I hate to be conspicuous.”

  “Quite so,” Lord Kincade said, resuming his seat and eyeing her in some fascination.

  “Shall I ring for tea, Giles?” Lady Hetty asked. “Or would you prefer something stronger?”

  “Neither, thank you,” he said. “Might I beg a private word with Miss Morrison, Hetty? I would ask her to step into another room, but under the circumstances, perhaps I might ask you and Miss Rose Morrison to do that?”

  Lady Hetty jumped to her feet, her eyes sharpening. “Certainly,” she said. “Rose, dear, you wanted some advice on which bonnet to wear when you go driving in the park with Sir Phillip Corbett later this afternoon?”

  “Yes,” Rose said. “Will you help me?”

  “I know what you want to say to me,” Daisy said as soon as they were alone. “And it is quite unnecessary. Really she was in no danger at all, you know. I would never be so foolish as to put her deliberately into danger.”

  Lord Kincade, who was on his feet, his hands clasped loosely behind him, frowned in incomprehension. “Who was not in danger?” he asked.

  “Rose,” she said. “She was safe inside the carriage with Lady Hetty. I do not doubt the coachman would have moved off in a hurry if that bully had tried to go for her.”

  “Good heavens,” Lord Kincade said. “I do not doubt that Miss Rose Morrison was as safe as it is possible to be, ma’am. How could she have been your sister for all of nineteen years and not learned something about survival?”

  Daisy looked a little uncertain.

  “But I thought you would have known the purpose of my visit and my wanting to speak alone with you,” Lord Kincade said. “I thought you would have been expecting it. I have come to ask you to marry me, of course.”

  Chapter 9

  The Reverend Fairhaven and Judith arrived in Hanover Square soon after Lady Hetty and Rose had left Daisy and Lord Kincade alone together.

  “Arthur came to see Julia,” Judith explained. “But she is in a very cross mood today, the poor dear. She complains that she can neither sit nor stand nor lie, and no one has yet invented another way of positioning one’s body. Even Ambrose begins to think that perhaps she is bearing twins. But when one considers how enormous Ambrose is, one can well believe that there is only one child, after all.”

  “You will be embarrassing Rose,” Lady Hetty said briskly.

  “Oh, not at all,” Rose said, quite unperturbed. “We live in the country, you know, with a large farmyard very close to the house. One learns a great deal about life in such a setting.”

  Arthur smiled. “I did sit for five minutes rubbing poor Julia’s back,” he said. “I have heard from—from certain ladies I know that that often helps ease the aching muscles. But Judith wanted to go out walking, and Julia drove me away, saying that I would do her far more of a favor if I took Judith off her hands for an hour. Poor Julia. She would not say such a thing even in jest if she were herself.”

  “We have come to take you walking in the park, Rose,” Judith said.

  “Sir Phillip Corbett is to take me driving there later,” Rose said, “Oh, what a shame. I would so like to have come with you.”

  “But there is lots of time,” Judith said. “The fashionable hour for driving is not until about five o’clock. Do run along and fetch your bonnet.”

  “Yes, please do,” Arthur said, smiling warmly at Rose. “I shall have an empty arm otherwise. I feel quite lopsided with a lady on only one side of me, you know.”

  Rose glanced inquiringly at Lady Hetty, noted her nod of approval, and ran up to her room for a shawl and bonnet.

  It was a beautiful day for a walk, and she had been into Hyde Park only the one time with Daisy. Now, although the hour was rather too early for it to be crowded, she felt far more at home. She was on the arm of a very pleasant and very tall gentleman, and his sister, her new friend, was on his other side. And she found that she recognized, even if she could not name, several of the people whom they did meet.

  She was beginning to feel more comfortable in London. Not that she had ever looked for any grand excitement from life or a wealthy and prominent husband—that was all Daisy’s idea. She would have been quite content to settle eventually with one of the gentlemen who
lived close to them at home, though she had developed no particular attachment to any one of them. She would be quite happy to go back home again at the end of the Season.

  But she thought now that she would enjoy it while she was here. And her hopes for Daisy had been raised. It had always seemed sad to Rose that Daisy had never married and now showed no interest in doing so. And there was no point at all in trying to convince her that she looked, and indeed was, far too young and pretty to have settled herself into the role of spinster. Daisy was certain that she was so far past the age of matrimony that no one would even think of her in such terms.

  Yet it seemed entirely possible that Lord Kincade was offering for her that very afternoon. Daisy had made very light of the events of the previous evening, of course, but then Daisy, for all her seeming practicality, almost never saw the world the way it really was. She had been very badly, even scandalously, compromised the evening before, and it seemed that the viscount had little choice but to do the honorable thing.

  That was the only detail that disturbed Rose. She liked the viscount. She loved her sister. She thought they would make a splendid match. But it would have been far better if he had been coming to make his offer from choice. But no matter, Rose assured herself. He would grow to love Daisy. It might take time, because poor Daisy had embarrassed him several times, though she was blissfully unaware of the fact. But eventually he must realize that she had a heart of gold and deserved some happiness for herself.

  And Lord Kincade might be just the man for Daisy, Rose thought. She had stared openmouthed at the way he had talked to Daisy earlier, threatening dire consequences if she dared break the promise he had forced her to make. Rose could not remember any person—male or female—who had talked to Daisy that way and received such a meek capitulation.

  “Oh,” Judith said in casual surprise, “here comes Lord Powers.”