That is all.
She may as well have asked for the moon and the stars, and where he would have sought to climb into the sky and gather her a handful, could he love her, as she deserved? For with her seemingly innocent words of children between them, she roused images of his and Daisy’s bodies moving as one in a beautiful, synchronized rhythm. And he wanted her and those children belonging to her. His body ached with the desire to explore her and brand the silken softness of her skin in his palms, cupping her generous breasts and— A garbled groan lodged in his throat.
Daisy fiddled with that silly frame. Wordlessly, she carried it over to the window and stared out into the streets below. Then she angled her body back to face him. “It occurs to me, for everything we know of each other, we don’t truly know each other, do we?”
“Of course we do,” he said, frowning at her words. But for himself, he knew her better than anyone. “Your favorite color is blue.”
She widened her eyes with surprise. “You remember that?”
His silent, cowardly self still fearful of the implications of her own admission moments ago, urged him to lie. “Of course I remember that, Daisy,” he said gruffly. There was not a single detail he did not recall where she was concerned. Society would have deemed her a horrid painter.
“My mother said it was merely paint splattered upon the canvas,” she said more to herself.
Auric, however, had only seen the stunning mastery of color. The masterpieces she’d turned out for his and Lionel’s inspection had captured more shades of blue than he’d ever known existed. “I admired that you weren’t restrained by Society’s dictates.” With the memories of their past unraveling between them, he wandered down a more and more irreversible path, cementing this new relationship in which they were more strangers than not.
“But that isn’t truly knowing someone,” she said softly. “The color I like or the colors I hate—”
“Orange and purple,” he supplied automatically.
“—do not speak to the dreams I carry in my heart.”
He fell silent. For in this, she spoke true. Beyond that shockingly intimate desire she’d shared of love and a family, he didn’t truly know Daisy’s interests. He knew sometime in the recent years she’d taken up embroidering, but didn’t know why or if she’d been made to or whether she merely challenged herself with the tedious task, and God help him, he longed to know all those pieces of her. Auric drew in a slow, staggering breath as he realized—he wanted to know everything there was to know about Daisy. He wanted to know the things that made her smile now as a woman, the tasks she enjoyed and, more importantly, he had a desire to know why she enjoyed them.
“For everything we’ve shared, and as long as we’ve known each other, there is so much we do not know of each other, even so.” Her words served as an echo to his tumultuous thoughts.
Drawn to her like the siren, Calypso, his legs of their own volition carried him closer and closer until a mere hairsbreadth separated them. “What do you wish to know?” His words emerged husky.
She tipped her head back. “What do you desire, Auric?”
You. The word hung, unspoken on his lips. I desire you. Since that fateful night seven years ago, he’d not taken another woman into his bed. He hungered for her the way a starving man longed for food. And yet, this force of emotion that gripped him defied a mere physical awareness. “Peace.” The word danced in the air between them. “I desire peace.” And escape from the hellish memories he carried, memories he likely always would.
Daisy slipped her hand into his and raised their interlocked fingers. This again, that bond shared by only them who’d known this tragic loss. “Then we shall know peace together.”
Warmth slipped inside his heart. The cold and hollow organ stirred to life.
She studied their joined hands. “Surely, you desire more than peace.” Daisy raised her gaze. “Your courtship of Lady Stanhope was not borne of a hope for peace alone.”
There had been a great appeal in the lovely, young, blonde woman who’d not fawned over his title as every other lady of marriageable age. Yet, a good deal of that had stemmed from her absolute disconnect from the darkest part of his life. The countess did not know the shameful details of his youth, or the horrors of that night. Daisy, on the other hand, would be forever intrinsically connected to the whole of his past.
After a long stretch of silence, Daisy let her arm fall back to her side and his hand went cold at the loss of her reassuring touch.
Auric brushed his knuckles under her chin, tipping her gaze back to his. “Come, surely you’d not have me speak of my previous courtship?”
“Yes, yes I would,” she said with the same boldness he’d come to expect of Lady Daisy Meadows through the years. She pinked, as though embarrassed by such an admission, but she stared on relentlessly. “Did you care for her?”
Some, powerfully intense emotion in her eyes gave him pause. It was something that indicated his response was an important one and the wrong response would prove disastrous in ways he didn’t fully understand. “The lady didn’t fawn over my title,” he said, picking his way carefully through this exchange.
“And you’d have wed the lady for that reason alone?”
“I would say that it speaks to the lady’s honor.” He dropped his brow to hers. “I’d not speak of my courtship of another. Not today.” Not when he’d so recently offered for her. The mention of Lady Stanhope or any other sullied whatever this indefinable pull was between them. He curved his hand around the graceful lines of her long neck.
Her lower lip quivered as he angled her close “I’d only speak of you, Daisy.” He took her mouth under his as he’d longed to since he’d first tasted the sweetness of her kiss and the passion on her lips, that yearning made only stronger when she’d sailed into Lady Ellis’ ballroom, a voluptuous angel sent to torment. Auric slanted his mouth over hers again and again until she sagged. He easily caught her to him and drew her against his frame. His body roared to life with a hot, primitive awareness of a man who’d not given himself to another and now only wished to learn her and no other. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth.
She moaned and, at first, tentatively touched her tongue to his and then shamelessly met his in an age-old dance. What once had been wrong because she was Daisy of his past now became right in every way. He drew back and she tangled her fingers in his hair, attempting to draw him close, but he merely continued his tireless exploration. Afire with a need to explore all of her, he trailed a path of kisses over her freckled cheeks.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
Daisy’s head pitched back, a whimpering moan slipped past her lips as he moved his lips to the corner of her mouth and lower to the place where her pulse throbbed wildly in her neck. The scent of lavender clung to her skin and he drew an intoxicating breath that sucked him into the past—visiting her family, a family he’d forever destroyed.
He wrenched away, his chest heaved in agonized, shuddering breaths.
Her lashes fluttered wildly and she blinked several times as though she sought to clear the haze of passion that had enveloped her. “What—?”
“Forgive me,” he said gruffly, guilt ravaging his conscience.
“There is nothing to forgive.”
Only, there was everything to forgive. Guilt churned in his belly.
She held her palms up misinterpreting the reason for his regret. “We are to be married.” Emotion filled her eyes. “And I love you.”
A dull buzzing filled his ears with her words coming as though down a long corridor. He gave a brusque shake of his head. The implications of this admission so much greater than the amorphous wish she’d spoken of earlier to love and be loved. Now, she spoke of him and yearnings for his heart, when she didn’t know the dark lie he’d kept from her. Once because the words of his shameful past would never be fit for a respectable lady’s ears, now because he was a coward. She was deserving of the truth even as it would kill all the warmth in her eyes, leavin
g him dark and empty. But he could not enter into a union with this between them. He swiped a hand over his eyes and turned on wooden legs, needing to put distance between them, too much of a coward to witness the moment all her love for him was replaced with that deserved loathing.
Daisy rushed around him in a flurry of blue skirts and planted herself in front of him. “Do you intend to leave?” Incredulity underscored her question. She settled her hands upon her hips, her eyebrows dipped.
But for the details of one night he kept to himself, he had always chosen forthrightness. He lowered his voice, speaking in hushed tones. “Surely, you know I care about you?” He’d have lobbed off his left arm if it would bring her happiness. “There is something I would have you—”
The lines of her face gentled. “Oh, Auric,” she whispered, caressing his cheek.
He flinched. He’d never been worthy of her affections. She’d made him, with his visits through the years, into someone honorable and good, when in truth there was none more complicit than he. “Daisy,” he began once more, his voice gruff. He captured her wrist in his hand, intending to remove it from his person so he could at last give her the truth.
Footsteps sounded in the hall. Their gazes swung as one to the doorway where the Marchioness of Roxbury stood framed in the entrance, a wider smile than he remembered of the lady these years wreathed her aged face. She clapped her hands together. “Oh, Auric, I have heard the splendid news.”
He dropped a bow. The woman’s enthusiasm stabbed him with more of the agonized guilt. He’d bungled this all up. Daisy should have been given the truth before he’d rushed over with an offer for her hand. “Lady Roxbury, it is a pleasure.” Only, deep inside where truths dwelled, he’d recognized this was the only way he might have her. Panic climbed up his throat, threatening to choke him. “If you’ll excuse me? As much as I’d enjoy visiting, there are matters to see to.”
“Of course, of course there are,” she exclaimed. She captured Daisy’s hand and locked their fingers together. “I do not remember when I last knew this happiness,” she said softly.
Would the woman feel that way if she were to know that he was not the honorable, devoted man she’d taken him as through the years? He spun on his heel and fled as though the hounds of hell nipped at his heels.
And if there had ever been a doubt these years, his hasty retreat only proved something he’d long known—he was a bloody coward.
Chapter 16
When she’d been a girl, Lionel had teased Daisy about her remarkable ability to slumber through anything and everything, from the volatile summer storms to their mother’s loud rapping on Daisy’s chamber doors. The only time in Daisy’s life she’d struggled to sleep had been the evening of Lionel’s death. She’d lain abed and stared up at the ceiling. She’d flipped onto her side, back and forth, all night, until ultimately flopping onto her back again to stare at the canopy over her head. Anxiety had turned in her belly and ran down her back, and she’d not known how to make sense of the inexplicable misgivings.
Much the same way she’d had an innate sense of hovering darkness, so did she after Auric had beat his swift retreat three days earlier. She’d not seen him since that hasty flight. His are not the actions of a gentleman in love. Then, he’d never spoken of love, or even affection. Yet no one could or would ever make Auric do something he’d not want to. His life stood as testament to that. Surely, he’d not wed her if he didn’t love her with at least some sliver of his heart. No, a man who remembered such details as her favorite color and her least favorite colors and the foods she enjoyed proved that he felt at least something where she was concerned.
A shadow fell over her and she started. “You are quiet, Daisy.”
She cast an upward glance. “Mother,” she answered. “I did not hear you enter.” For somehow, with an offer of marriage from Auric, Mother had become the invisible one and Daisy the one lost in her own world—a world that made so very little sense.
Mother sank into the seat alongside her on the blue satin upholstered sofa. “I daresay you’d have more of a smile. This is to be after all, your wedding day.”
Daisy forced a smile.
If the marchioness detected the lack of sincerity to that expression of happiness, she gave no indication. “I always dreamed of a union between you and Auric,” she spoke in those deeply introspective tones.
As had she. Since she’d nearly burned down her parents’ table during a summer picnic. She’d just not allowed herself the real hope of that in these recent years, as with a woman’s jaded maturity she saw his interest reserved for another. Surely, you know I care about you… Whatever other words he’d have uttered had been cut into by her mother’s ill-timed appearance.
Daisy gave her head a clearing shake, shoving aside any misgivings. He’d not said as much with her mother’s sudden appearance, but she could not doubt that love would have driven his offer. She glanced over at the long-case clock, her stomach fluttering with excitement. Filled with a restless energy, she wandered over to the window and pulled back the curtain. She peered down into the quiet streets. He would arrive soon. In a short while, they would wed and all her hopes would be realized, and she’d no longer be invisible or lonely. They would have each other.
From the crystal pane of the window, she looked at her mother. The older-than-her-years marchioness cast an empty gaze about the room and then the ghost of a smile hovered on her lips as she confronted the dreams she’d once carried. “I imagined a grand ceremony for you and an extravagant breakfast with all the leading lords and ladies of Society present.” A prospect Daisy had shuddered with. “What are those?”
Daisy looked over her shoulder. “What is what?”
With a flick of her hand, Mother motioned to the butterfly combs artfully woven through Daisy’s dull, brown tresses that morning. “They are hair combs,” she said patiently, pretending to misunderstand.
“I see that.” Her mother wrinkled her nose. “I’d always imagined you in something a good deal more extravagant with diamonds and rubies.”
The earliest memories Daisy had of her mother, were of the woman resplendent in impeccable and expensive French fabrics, her neck dripping in glittering gemstones. How different she’d always been than her mother. “I adore these,” she said softly. They were not the grand pieces donned by those diamonds of the first water, but for what they represented—the first gift given her by Auric amidst the streets of London that had brought them together in the most meaningful ways—and for that they were more priceless than the Queen’s crown.
Her mother let out a little sigh. “I was so certain you were wrong and that Auric would desire a lavish ceremony befitting his rank.”
Then her mother didn’t know Auric in the intimate way Daisy had over the years. The man he’d become would have glowered away every last guest to assure his privacy.
A lone carriage rolled down the street and then that familiar, black conveyance rocked to a halt in front of her townhouse. “He is here.”
Her mother raced over to the window. “He is here?”
Daisy started not realizing she’d spoken aloud but remained with her gaze fixed upon Auric as he descended from the carriage.
“Release the curtain,” her mother admonished. “It will not do to be discovered studying him so brazenly.”
How many times had she been cowed by that stern frown? There had been a time Daisy would have lowered her head, humbled at those chiding words. Not any longer.
“Did you hear me, Daisy?”
Daisy ignored her. She trailed the tips of her fingertips over the glass, looking for the hint of hesitation she’d spied days ago in Auric’s ruggedly beautiful face. “I heard you, Mother.” There was none. His face was set in a hard mask. “A young lady would be granted such boldness upon her wedding day, surely.” He said something to his driver. The man nodded and rushed back to the carriage.
“Surely not,” her mother said with the shocked indignation of the proper lady s
he’d been. “Standing in the window, gaping down at him with anyone to see?” She launched into a diatribe about proper behavior and decorum. All in all, seven years too late. In the wake of Lionel’s death, her mother and father had ceased to see her, and their influence in her life had therefore ceased to matter. It had been no deliberate insult, merely her attempt at an emotional survival.
Daisy continued to watch him. He started forward, but then, as though he felt her stare upon him, froze mid-step. Auric glanced up and scanned the handful of windows of the townhouse, until his gaze found hers. Her heart started. She’d never been one of those ladies to fawn over fashion and yet, now wished she was draped in one of those elaborate satin gowns and not this modest blue dress selected for her wedding day. He squinted, peering up through eyes narrowed into thin slits and she fisted her blue satin skirts. What did he see when he looked at her? Then he shifted his attention to his cloak. She furrowed her brow in consternation as he rummaged through the front of his jacket and then he withdrew something. Warmth spiraled through her and a bark of laughter escaped her as he pressed a quizzing glass, the quizzing glass she’d given him, to his eye.
And she fell in love with him all over again.
She shook her head, laughter spilling past her lips. “You are incorrigible,” she mouthed.
With two winks, he touched the brim of his hat, startling another sharp bark of laughter from her lips.
“Please remember yourself, Daisy. It is impolite to laugh.”
She returned his greeting with an eager wave that caused her mother to cry out. “Come, Mother. I rather think it is preferable to go through life laughing than with a stern frown.”
Her mother either failed to hear or appreciate the reproach there. “Oh, Daisy, do come away from that window.”
Daisy returned her gaze to the cobblestones below, locating Auric just as he stepped through the open doorway. She released the fabric and it fluttered back into place. “Surely, a bride is allowed some excitement on her wedding day?” Improper thoughts no true lady should dare have, wandered down the path of her wedding night. Nervousness warred with a scandalous eagerness that burned her cheeks.
Heart of a Duke 04 - Loved By a Duke Page 20