Granted when you make your Come Out, Auric will be one of those old dukes with a quizzing glass to his eye…
A wistful smile played about her lips at Lionel’s voice, as clear as the day he’d uttered those words, rang in the bustling streets. She hopelessly glanced about for her oft-smiling brother. Yet, there was not a familiar face or friendly smile within the crowds of strangers. Alone. Just as she’d been these seven years now. Her smile dipped.
“Ye be wontin’ to buy that, moi lady?” The gypsy’s words brought her back from her sad musings.
“No. I…” She ran her finger down the frame and then froze at the slight, silver ornament at the center. A daisy. The wind tugged at her hair, freeing a curl. The quizzing glass was perfect. “Yes. I believe I do.” She reached into the reticule that hung from her wrist and fished about the bottom of the satin sack. Daisy withdrew a sovereign and held it out to the man who eyed the coin in wide-eyed wonder.
His rheumy eyes went wide and he doffed his hat once again. “Thank ye, so much. Is there anythin’ else Oi might ’elp ye te foind?”
Daisy gave him a smile. “No, thank you.” She dropped the quizzing glass inside her reticule. “This will do perfectly.”
He pocketed the generous payment and dipped a bow.
With a spritely step, Daisy started across the street. Why, every duke eventually required a quizzing glass. Particularly dukes who were approaching their thirtieth year. Perhaps it might serve to remind Auric that he needed to wed. And soon. Wind tugged at her cloak and she ran her palms over the front, smoothing out the fabric. Granted, he’d already seemed to realize that important piece of his ducal responsibility. He’d just not seen her as fitting into his ducal obligations.
She stepped out into the street just as another gust of wind, more fierce and biting, whipped her hood over her eyes. Daisy shoved it back and a scream lodged in her throat as a gentleman riding his horse at a quick gallop cut across her path. She stumbled. Her foot turned on the uneven cobbles and she tumbled backward, crashing hard onto her bottom. Daisy grunted as her palms scraped the rocks and dirt-packed road, shredding her thin gloves. She grimaced at the pain radiating up her back. The wind whipped about, tugging free several more strands of hair and the long curls slapped her cheeks. Sputtering around a mouthful of hair, she pulled out several dampened tresses then tucked them behind her ear, grimacing at the foul stench of her fingers. She stole a glance about and a relieved sigh escaped her at finding her maid across the street, wholly engrossed in her search. Daisy carefully pulled her gloves off and inspected the damage done to her palms. The poor girl would suffer an apoplexy were she to discover her mistress in this moment, as she was sprawled on the ground. Daisy shoved herself up to her feet and dusted off the pebbles and dirt flaking her hands.
She rather hoped this was not fate’s opinion on her search for the Heart of a Duke pendant.
Then it began to pour.
Auric stared out at the rainy London streets from within the confines of his carriage. Following his visit with Daisy yesterday, where she’d pointed out his absence these past weeks, he’d been shamed by his neglect of both the young lady and her mother. So it was, with guilt driving his motives, as it so often did, he found himself on his way to the Marchioness of Roxbury’s townhouse to pay his requisite visit. The familiar front façade of the ladies’ residence drew into focus, and then moments later, his carriage rocked to a slow stop before their townhouse. A liveried footman drew the door open and cool wind filtered into the carriage, ruffling his hair. Smoothing his hands over the front of his cloak, Auric stepped down. The black fabric whipped angrily at his ankles, as thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.
In five long strides he reached the familiar front door. A door he’d entered more scores of times than he could count; as a child at his father’s side, as a young man visiting his closest friend, and as a gentleman seeking absolution for a sin that could never be forgiven. He rapped once.
Almost immediately the door was drawn open. The butler, as familiar as that front door stepped back, admitting him.
“Good afternoon, Frederick.”
“Your Grace,” the ancient servant said, sketching a deep, respectful bow. He cleared his throat, correctly interpreting the reason for Auric’s visit. “The marchioness is indisposed.”
Again, guilt sat like a stone in his belly. The woman frequently took to her chambers during the day. Grief had made her despondent, a mere empty shell of the refined hostess she’d once been. He inclined his head in understanding. “Please tell Lady Daisy I’ve come to call.” Odd, how Daisy, the girl who’d abhorred all social events hosted by her parents, had stepped in as hostess to receive him when her mother was indisposed. But then, they’d all grown up. They’d not been children for a very long time. Regret tugged at him for the simplicity of the life they’d once known, now lost.
“Lady Daisy is not here, Your Grace,” the old servant murmured.
Auric frowned. “Not here?”
“Not here,” the man echoed. A flash of concern filled the man’s rheumy eyes. “She’s gone,” he coughed into his hand, “shopping.”
“Shopping,” he repeated dumbly, knowing he must sound the total lackwit and yet, as long as he’d known Daisy Laurel Meadows, which was, the entire course of her existence, the lady had long detested shopping.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Frederick confirmed with a nod. “Shopping.”
Auric furrowed his brow. The only enjoyment she’d found in it as a girl was when he and Lionel had taken her to the bazaar and purchased a collection of small soldiers for the small girl forced to secretly play with the little figures, after her proper mama had denied her the pleasure.
Frederick cast a glance about and then returned his attention to Auric. “If I may be so bold, Your Grace—”
“You may,” he said briskly.
“The lady has gone off.”
“Gone off.” He knew he sounded like one of those parrots so favored by the bored ladies and gentlemen of the ton. “I believe you said the lady had gone shopping.” But Daisy didn’t shop.
“But she did go shopping, Your Grace.” Concern roughened the man’s tone. “She’s gone to Gipsy Hill.”
Unease filled his belly and Auric opened his mouth, but then promptly closed it lest he repeat the servant’s words once again. Gipsy Hill, on the outskirts of the fashionable part of London, Daisy had no place being there. He tamped down a curse. “Has she brought a chaperone?” he bit out, because God help her if she didn’t, he would blister her ears when he found her.
“She brought her maid.”
Her maid? Yes, he would do a good deal more than blister the lady’s ears for such recklessness. “Thank you, Frederick,” he said curtly.
The servant drew the door open. A blast of wind blew through the entranceway, slapping Auric’s face with drops of rain. “Thank you, Your Grace,” the butler said quietly.
He paused and looked questioningly back at him.
“For watching after her,” he clarified. “Lord Lionel would have been grateful,” Frederick said and then closed the door.
With furious steps, Auric stormed toward the street, the man’s flawed words trailing after him. Lionel would not have been grateful. Why, in death, Lionel surely loathed Auric for having brought him to that sin and not being the one to care after Daisy, as she should be cared for.
“Gipsy Hill,” he ordered as he reached his carriage. The liveried driver pulled the door open and Auric climbed inside. What business did the lady have in that unfashionable part of London? He searched his mind, thinking of the girl he’d known these years. He’d not believed Daisy motivated by the frills and fripperies that drove the ladies of the ton, and yet how well did he truly know her, now? The soldiers she’d once played with had since been replaced with an embroidery frame. All these years he’d come calling, he’d gone through the motions of a visit but not once had he noted the truth—Daisy was getting older. His frown deepened. No, she
was no longer a girl and he no longer knew the lady’s interests. With the exception of that embroidering business.
The driver flicked the reins of the conveyance and it lurched forward. As Auric’s carriage rumbled through the crowded London streets, he peered out at the thick, gray clouds and small beads of rain which beat against the windows. The weather perfectly suited his mood and only reinforced the absolute madness in the lady being out with nothing more than a maid’s escort for protection. A growl built low in his chest, filled by a fast-moving fear of the implications of her being at Gipsy Hill, unprotected.
Despite the chilled air and his gloved hands, his palms dampened as he was thrust back into the horrors of his past. At one point in time, Auric had been a self-absorbed bastard who’d sought the thrill of dancing on the edge of respectability. He’d forced Lionel into the underbelly of London, and for Auric’s selfishness, that one faulty decision had cost Lionel his life, dead in a whore’s bed with a worthless street thief’s blade buried in his belly.
It had also cost Daisy her one and only brother. All the implications of her being out alone slipped into his mind, chilling him with the prospect of a wide-smiling, freckled Daisy cut down in an equally vicious fashion. Nausea churned in his gut. If anything were to happen to her, he would not forgive himself. It would be the ultimate betrayal, which could never be atoned for.
The memories now came hard and fast—of Lionel, lying in a pool of blood, staring sightlessly up at the water-stained ceiling. Except, the image shifted and it was Daisy alone in that room with some faceless stranger. An agonized groan worked its way up his throat, nearly choking him. He banged hard on the ceiling. “Faster, man,” he thundered. The carriage increased its pace, barreling down the cobbled streets. Onward.
He stared blankly at the occasional rider passing by and the wagons and carts lining the cobbled road of Gipsy Hill while he searched for Daisy.
The sharp whinny of a horse jerked his attention across the street. As his carriage rattled along, he peered outside, squinting into the distance, just as the wind whipped a young woman’s hood from her head. Auric narrowed his eyes on the riot of brown tresses and a shock of freckles. He pressed his forehead against the crystal windowpane and knocked once on the roof. The conveyance rocked to an immediate and jarring stop. He braced his feet upon the floor and then shoved the door open and leaped from the carriage. A loud screech split the noise of the busy streets and howling wind. An eerie chill snaked down his spine, sucking the life from him. Time froze in an agonizing moment, his world stilled as Daisy barely escaped being trampled under the enormous hooves of some fool’s black mare.
His pulse pounding hard in his ears, Auric raced down the cobbled road. He dodged between carts and carriages while blood pumped furiously through his body. Distantly, he registered the icy cool of the thick puddles penetrating the heels of his boots and the now blinding drive of rain. “Daisy,” he barked, the call lost to the furious wind battering his cloak. The young lady blinked several times as though dazed. By God, he’d never forgive himself if she were hurt. His life would be eternally dark without her in it.
Auric closed the distance between them in just a handful of strides.
Rain matted her hair and ran in steady rivulets down her pale cheeks. She glanced up and then stared at him. With her brow furrowed in consternation, she tipped her head as though trying to place him, which was of course foolish. He’d known her since she’d been a babe and carried her throughout the marquess’ estate atop his shoulders. “Auric,” she greeted with a smile.
At that easy grin, a confirmation that she was unhurt, his heart resumed a normal beat.
He fed his annoyance, preferring that sentiment to the cloying fear at discovering her here, alone in the streets. Auric, she said? As though they were meeting amidst a ballroom or in a drawing room and not in the muddied, dangerous streets of London. Fury replaced the mind-numbing fear from moments ago and he stalked the remaining distance to her. Her eyes widened, perhaps in fear? Good, she should be fearful. He fed his ire. “What are you doing out here in this weather, unchaperoned, in this part of London, my lady?” Rain blurred his vision and he angrily swiped away the drops.
“I’m shopping.” She planted her arms akimbo. “The better question would be, what are you doing here, Auric?”
“Returning you home.”
“Oh, no you’re not.” She winked once.
She was having a splendid time, was she? “This is not a game,” he gritted out. The lady didn’t realize she risked life and limb coming here.
“I never said it was,” she said on a beleaguered sigh. She narrowed her eyes. A suspicious glint lit their brown depths. “And for that matter, Your Grace, how did you find me here?” Daisy wrinkled her nose. “Are you spying on me?” Which suggested the lady was engaging in activities that merited him spying on her. He swiped a hand over his face. God help him. He could manage his estates in a way that saw his coffers abundantly full. He could command a room of peers to silence with a single look. He was not, however, equipped to handle this older brother business. “Well?” she prodded, annoyance in her tone.
Auric lowered his arm to his side. “Frederick was very enlightening.” Because the old servant clearly had more sense than Daisy and her mother combined.
“Traitor,” she mumbled. Then, she gave a toss of her damp curls. “Regardless, I’ve important business to see to.” With that, she turned on her muddied heel and started down the road.
Auric remained fixed to the spot, blinking several times in rapid succession. By God, had she just wandered away from him? In this weather? Unchaperoned? In this part of London? With a growl, he stalked after her. “Lady Daisy Meadows, by God if you do not stop I will toss you over my shoulder and remove you to my carriage.” He planted himself in front of her and halted her forward movement.
She stopped. Which was good. Because he really didn’t want to do anything as barbaric as tossing her over his shoulder. Which he would do if he needed. But he’d still rather not. Not with Daisy. Nor any young lady for that matter. But especially not Daisy. For all the sins he was guilty of, he cared to leave off any further ones that involved Daisy and, most especially, any outrageous acts that involved his hands upon her person.
Rain ran in a steady stream around them, like crystal teardrops upon her cheeks. But then she smiled, the one splash of joy in an otherwise cheerless world, and for a brief moment, he forgot the terror that had dogged him since Frederick had announced the lady’s plans to visit Gipsy Hill and any annoyance. “What were you thinking going out without an escort?” he asked, when he at last managed to form words.
“I have an escort.” Daisy looked around. A frown tugged her lips downward and then she lifted a finger up. “Ah, here she is.”
As if on cue a young woman in a serviceable, brown cloak came tearing down the street. “My lady, we need to go. It is—” She skidded to a halt at the sight of Auric and fell silent.
He returned his attention to Daisy. “That is not an escort, my lady.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Indeed, she is.”
Auric took a slow, steadying breath and counted to five. “No. No, she is not.” She was a young maid who didn’t look strong enough to stand upright in the howling wind knocking into them now.
A chill stole through him at the idea of all manner of danger that could have befallen her.
“What manner of madness has befallen you to come here alone, Daisy?” he asked, slipping with formality. Her mother would do to not let her from her sight for the rest of the Season, or better yet, until she was wed and firmly enfolded in some gentleman’s protection.
Except, then he imagined her with some bastard of a husband who didn’t deserve her, and then he would feel a whole new onset of guilt for the absence of her brother who’d have seen to the very important detail of securing a match for his…for his…
Daisy muttered and proceeded to rifle through her reticule.
H
e furrowed his brow. “What are you doing?”
She continued to dig around the inside of her pale yellow satin bag.
“Daisy, I asked what you are—?”
Her head shot up and her smile widened. “Here.” She handed a small silver object over to him.
Auric accepted the delicate piece. “A quizzing glass?” He alternated his gaze between Daisy and the fragile item.
She pointed to the quizzing glass. “I imagine if you can’t see Agnes standing right before you to know I’m not, in fact, alone, well then you need this even earlier than I’d imagined you would.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Daisy?”
“Yes, Auric?”
“Get in your damned carriage. Now.”
Daisy opened her mouth to protest when thunder rumbled in the distance. She jumped. Unfortunately, landing her slippered feet into the fast rising puddle between them. She glanced forlornly down at her soaked hemline. “You know, this is really all your fault.”
If he weren’t so concerned with getting her safely ensconced within her carriage he’d have dearly loved to hear an elaboration on her reasoning behind that. “I assure you, for all the power I do possess, I cannot make the skies thunder.”
Her mouth formed a small moue of surprise.
He leaned down, so close he detected the hint of honey and lavender that clung to her. “Did you imagine I forgot your fear of thunder and lightning?”
She wrinkled her pert nose. “I am not still afraid of thunder and lightning.” As if to prove her as a liar, lightning cracked the thick, gray sky and a little shriek escaped her.
He grinned, tucking her gift into his pocket. A real smile, the first he’d managed in more years than he could remember. It was hardly appropriate for an unwed young lady to give an unwed gentleman, who was not a relation, a gift. But this was Daisy. “Liar.”
Heart of a Duke 04 - Loved By a Duke Page 8