Scandalous Scoundrels

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Scandalous Scoundrels Page 74

by Aileen Fish


  While Pruitt went through the house to check on the rest of the staff, Daisy hurried down the stairs to the kitchen, then came to an abrupt halt. The large room, usually bustling with activity, appeared deserted. All was quiet. Too quiet for this time of day.

  The children had been here, she could tell, for the floors, walls, and worktables were covered in a white powder. A week’s supply of flour gone, just like that. Could Mrs. Mayhew have been dispatched as quickly?

  Daisy raised her skirts and was beginning to tiptoe across the debris left on the floor when she heard a giggle coming from the servants’ dining alcove. She crept closer and peered around the corner. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven children plus Mrs. Mayhew and her two assistants, sitting around the table, as calm as you please.

  All unharmed.

  All present and accounted for.

  She watched the children eagerly digging into freshly made apple tarts. “Thank you, Mrs. Mayhew,” she said with a giddy sigh and stepped forward. “You’re a marvel.”

  The stocky, middle-aged woman glanced up with a smile. “No trouble at all, Miss Daisy. The children were very helpful.”

  Daisy shook her head and laughed, pointing in the direction of the flour-covered floor. “I couldn’t help but notice.”

  Mrs. Mayhew waved her hand as if to dismiss her concerns. “The scullery girls will clean that up, quick as a trice.”

  Daisy glanced around. “Oh, dear. About those girls, where are they now? Safe, I hope.”

  “They are,” she assured with another wave of her hand. “I’ve sent them off to buy more flour and some other supplies.”

  Daisy breathed another sigh of relief. “I’ll take over tending the children. I know you must have your hands full preparing the family supper.”

  “Soup’s ready and bubbling on the hearth. The meat’s in the oven, simmering in its own juices. Pies are cooling on the window ledge. All we have left to cook are the vegetables. Everything’s in ship-shape order, thanks to the menus you prepared in advance for us.”

  “I’m glad it worked out.”

  “The meals are simple to make, yet present quite elegantly. Ye’re doing a fine job of running the household, Miss Daisy.”

  “Um, I’m not really in charge, Mrs. Mayhew,” she said with a modest shake of her head. “Mother is the lady of the house.”

  “She may be, but ye’re the heart of this house, always looking out for everyone, getting things done and never taking credit. If ye ask me, ye’ve more than made amends for—”

  Daisy knew she was going to mention The Incident and hastily changed the topic. “We’ll discuss it later. Perhaps in a few months when our guests have all returned to their homes. However, I’d like to discuss something of greater importance. Are your nieces still visiting?”

  “Indeed they are. As a matter of fact, they’re enjoying London so much, they’d like to stay on permanently.” Mrs. Mayhew pursed her lips and frowned lightly. “I’ll have to find work for them, though I haven’t had the time to attend to it.”

  “Perfect! Consider it done. Would they be willing to watch children? I mean, just until suitable nannies can be found.”

  The older woman glanced up in surprise. “They know how to tend children, that’s for sure. They helped me raise my five boys after my husband died and did a fine job of it. But they don’t come from genteel families. They’re not the sort one would look for in a nanny. True, they speak softly and are well-mannered. I was hoping your mother might take them in as housemaids should the positions become available.”

  Daisy folded her arms across her chest as a plan formed in her mind. “I’m certain we’ll have many openings before this month is through. In the meantime, your nieces would do me a great service by helping me with the children. I desperately need assistance and don’t mind that they can’t read the Greek classics or speak as finely as the Queen. We’ll regain two of the Farthingale nannies by the end of the week, and I expect they’ll want to keep your nieces on.”

  “Thank you, Miss Daisy. They’ll be quite pleased.”

  “Have them report to me first thing tomorrow morning. And... ah, no sense burdening Mother with the little details. I’ll instruct Mrs. Taft to add them to the list of household retainers.”

  Daisy allowed the children to finish their treats before marching them up to her room and instructing them to wash their hands. She turned the chore of washing into a game that even Harry enjoyed. Then she sat the youngest children on her bed, pulled up a chair, and began to tell them a story.

  “Can we listen, too?” her twelve-year-old cousin, Lizbeth, the eldest of the children, asked.

  “Of course.” She waved her hand, motioning for the older ones to come closer, which they did with squeals and giggles. This small band of older cousins ranged in age from nine to twelve and were still considered too young to be allowed in the company of adults. They were at that awkward age, too young for more sophisticated conversation and too old to be forced to play with the younger children. She was pleased when they scooted closer, eager to listen to her read a story to the little ones.

  “Tell us about the gentleman you met today,” Lizbeth said, tossing back her blonde curls while taking a seat next to her.

  Daisy felt the heat of a blush creep up her neck. Goodness, how much had the children seen? “Oh, I don’t think—”

  “Please, please, please!” Lizbeth persisted, an eager sparkle in her green eyes. “Harry met him, too.” She was joined by the others in a chorus of begging.

  Daisy let out a soft groan. “Very well.”

  Lizbeth cheered. “Harry liked him. We saw him hug the man.”

  She wondered what else her cousins had seen Harry do to the man. “Yes, well...”

  “He seemed very nice. Is he a war hero?” Lizbeth cast her an impish grin.

  “What’s that?” four-year-old Charles asked with a sniffle, because it was a well-known fact that all little boys had runny noses. It mattered not if they were the offspring of a duke or a dustman. If they were little, their noses ran.

  “Someone who’s very brave,” Lizbeth answered.

  “The gentleman’s name is Lord Gabriel Dayne and he’s not a war hero, but his brother, Alexander, is one. I’m sure Alexander saved the lives of many young men and made lots of families very happy.”

  “Was Uncle Harrison with him?” Charles asked, referring to Harry’s father, who had died in battle last year.

  “Unfortunately, no.” She glanced worriedly at Harry, but he seemed to be fine for the moment. “Alexander and Gabriel are grandsons of our neighbor.”

  “Grandmama Eloise?” Harry asked with a sniffle, his nose also perpetually running. Daisy withdrew the handkerchief tucked in her sleeve and efficiently cleaned his pudgy face.

  “Yes,” she answered with a nod. Eloise had been wonderfully generous with the boy, often allowing Daisy to bring him along on her afternoon visits. Harry had grown quite attached to their kindly neighbor. “Lord Gabriel has been sick for a very long time—”

  “But he got better,” Lizbeth said, punctuating her sentence with a squeal. “He looks very big and strong.”

  “Yes, Lizbeth.” Daisy felt another jolt of heat rise in her cheeks as she recalled the firm hands that had gripped her shoulders and the powerful muscles bulging beneath his borrowed shirt.

  “Who’s very big and strong?” asked Daisy’s youngest sister, Dillie, as she strode into the room without so much as a knock. She threw off her gloves and hat, then plunked down on the bed beside the little ones.

  Daisy shook her head and laughed. “Hello, Dillie. Did you come back with Mother?”

  “No, she took Aunt Julia and the rest of our female relations to visit Rose. Laurel joined them, but Lily and I decided we’d had enough of their jibber-jabber and asked to be dropped off at home.” Dillie, always pert and animated, began to make clucking sounds and funny faces in imitation of their female relatives.

  The children broke into giggles. S
oon, they were all off the bed and following Dillie about the room like chicks marching after the mother hen. “Daisy, a thought just struck me. Why are all the children in your room? Where are the nannies?”

  “Hadn’t you noticed? They’ve all left us, though two should be back by the end of the week.”

  Dillie’s eyes grew wide and her mouth gaped open. “Crumpets! Who’s been watching the children all this time?”

  Daisy waited for her to pass close on her turn about the room. “I have. Mrs. Mayhew and Pruitt have helped.”

  “Does Mother know? Wait, don’t answer. Of course, she doesn’t. She doesn’t even remember giving birth to you, me, or Lily. Her patience wore out after Rose and Laurel.”

  “You’re not being fair,” Daisy said, stifling a grin, for her sister’s assessment was accurate. Their mother had simply been overwhelmed after giving birth to the first two daughters. It wasn’t her fault really. “Managing a household as large as this one isn’t easy, especially when it’s constantly filled to the rafters with guests.”

  Dillie stopped in front of her, flapped her arms, and clucked. “Though you try to hide it, I know that you have been the one in charge of this household since Rose got married. Laurel was too busy grooming her horses to care, and Lily and I were too young. But more important, who is big and strong?”

  “Lord Gabriel Dayne,” Lizbeth interjected.

  “He’s a wart hero,” Charlie added, his big, brown eyes widening as a mark of his earnestness.

  “His brother, Alexander, is a war hero,” Daisy corrected. “Lord Gabriel doesn’t have warts, just a few scars.”

  “In very manly places, I imagine,” Dillie said with a smirk.

  “Dillie!”

  “Is he handsome?” she asked, still smirking. “He must be. Your eyes have turned limpid.”

  Daisy held back a gasp. Oh, dear! Was she that obvious? “What you see is pity for poor Eloise. She’s had to endure his outrageous conduct.”

  Dillie wasn’t anywhere near finished with her interrogation. “Did you talk to him? When did you meet him?”

  Dillie’s twin, Lily, walked into the room just then. The pair were identical and even Daisy had trouble telling them apart at times. Lily was quieter, sometimes wore spectacles that hid her sparkling blue eyes, and always carried a book. Dillie’s eyes, if one looked very closely, were a slightly softer shade of blue. Lily was studious and earnest while Dillie, also a clever girl, had a delightful tendency toward mischief. “Whom did you meet who’s very handsome and doesn’t have warts?” Lily asked.

  Daisy sighed. “Come join us. You may as well hear about my most embarrassing moments.”

  Chapter 3

  Although a rake might feign otherwise, as a gentleman of rank and breeding, he prefers the company of a serene and poised young lady.

  “Let’s see now,” Lady Eloise Dayne said, putting a finger to her chin and drifting off in thought. “Rose must be about twenty-three, and that would make Laurel about twenty-one. The twins, Lily and Daffodil—though everyone calls her Dillie—are just shy of seventeen. Now Daisy, that delightful girl, will turn nineteen next month. Did I mention their father acquired his wealth in the merchant trade? One would never guess it, for he has quite the manners and education of a gentleman. The girls are clever, too. Quite accomplished young ladies.”

  “Ah, just what I need, an accomplished young lady.” Gabriel set down his teacup with a clatter. He glanced at the ornate wall clock hanging by the door of the winter salon, and noted it was almost five o’clock. He’d paid his duty call. Although he’d enjoyed most of the time spent with his grandmother, it was time to leave. “Grandmama, I fear I must be going.”

  “But Daisy—”

  “Please, not another word about the girl. Did I in any way lead you to believe I gave a fig about her or her relatives?” Bloody hell, she couldn’t seriously be considering him for Daisy, could she? If he were seeking to settle down—which he wasn’t in the least—it would never be with an addled bit of fluff like her, even if she had practically stopped his heart with her beautiful smile.

  “Well, no. But you and Daisy seemed to be getting along so well.”

  “Getting along well? Whatever gave you that impression? Her devil of a cousin emptied himself on me, and all she could do was flutter about me ineffectually, saying ‘sorry, sorry, sorry’ like a damned parrot with a one-word vocabulary. And later, when I joined you in this parlor, all she could do was gawk at me even as she chided me for my wicked ways.”

  Eloise let out a chuckle. “Well, you are a handsome man.”

  “Despite my scars.”

  “Most of them aren’t that noticeable, and the two that are make you look divinely rugged. I imagine Daisy found them quite attractive.”

  Bloody hell again. Will my grandmother never give up?

  “I’d be surprised if she noticed anything, for the girl seems to walk in a perpetual cloud. However, I will admit that even foggy-headed girls are consumed by one thing... marriage. I saw wedding bells mirrored in her blue eyes.”

  “Ah, you noticed the color of her eyes.”

  “No,” he muttered and received a scowl of disbelief in return. Very well, so what if he had noticed? No man could overlook Daisy’s magnificent eyes or her other splendid attributes. But it didn’t mean he was interested or that she pleased him. The war years had trained him always to be vigilant and notice details, that’s all. Her details happened to be spectacular, but it wasn’t something one confided to one’s meddlesome grandmother.

  “You are being most difficult, Gabriel. Why won’t you admit that you liked the girl?”

  “Because I didn’t. I found her quite unremarkable. She had nothing of interest to say. She lacked style. I think she forgot to brush her hair today. That dark mane of hers tumbled wildly about her shoulders.”

  Well, I do like that. Yes, indeed! Wild dark hair and big blue eyes, and a body—no! Daisy Farthingale was not the stuff of his fantasies.

  “Her only lure is her wealth,” he continued, “which isn’t enough to tempt me. However, I’m certain she’ll find some fop who’ll fall in love with her dowry. With a little luck, he might even fall in love with her. After they marry, she and her family can slowly drive the wretch insane.”

  He expected a feisty response from Eloise, for he had truly gone on a spiteful rant. Instead she sat quietly, staring beyond him toward the door with a pained expression on her face. “Hello, Daisy,” she said in a tight voice. “Don’t believe a word of what Gabriel just said.”

  Gabriel felt as if an anchor had just been dropped on his stomach. He tried to stand but couldn’t. Instead, he watched helplessly as Daisy remained at the door wringing her hands while trying to regain her composure. She looked beautiful and vulnerable.

  She looked young and very hurt.

  Where was Watling? Why hadn’t he announced the girl’s arrival? Or did the blasted chit just burst in whenever she pleased?

  Eloise patted the seat beside her and motioned for Daisy to join her, but the poor girl couldn’t seem to move either. “You look lovely, child. Your hair’s done up quite elegantly.”

  Daisy patted her hair, which was now styled in a fashionable chignon, then slowly shook her head. “You’re being kind as always, Eloise.” Her chin began to quiver. Hell in a handbasket, was she going to cry? All his fault. “I only stopped by to inform you that I won’t be able to ride with you to Lord Falmouth’s ball.” She let out a shaky breath and ran her tongue slowly across her full lower lip as she struggled to regain the composure that he’d callously shattered. “I know I promised, but I’m certain your grandson can manage that responsibility.”

  Her tongue darted out again, and all he could think of was the sweet sensation of her tongue and soft lips going down... Was there ever a man more depraved?

  “I’d much rather have your company in my carriage. My grandson,” his grandmother said, glaring at Gabriel, “won’t be very entertaining. He’s all bile and ill tem
per lately, and he’s lost all sense of good manners.”

  Gabriel was about to admit that he had been in the wrong, but Daisy surprised him by coming to his defense. “Please don’t berate him. He has every reason to think the worst of me, and as to his manners, I believe mine were worse.”

  “Nonsense, you’re always delightful. You were a little distressed today, that’s all. Nobody’s perfect. We all have bad days. Still doesn’t excuse his rudeness toward you,” Eloise insisted, refusing to be mollified.

  “Perhaps not, but let’s not make more of it than necessary.” Her beautiful lips were now stretched in a thin, tense line and her clasped hands were trembling. “I doubt I’ll see him again and I do wish to explain about Lord Falmouth’s ball. You see, I won’t be attending.”

  Eloise let out a soft gasp. “Why ever not? You’ve been looking forward to it for ages.”

  “It seems Mother forgot to notify the dressmakers to proceed with the final alterations for my gowns. They won’t be ready in time.”

  “Daisy, that’s unpardonable!”

  Gabriel rolled his head back and groaned. Obviously Daisy had endured a dreadful day, first chasing after her cousins—he did admit that looking after seven children was no easy task—and then learning that this much-anticipated event was not to be. A young woman’s first season was a sacred rite of passage, not something to be trifled with or ignored by her family. Daisy looked crushed and he couldn’t blame her.

  Yet despite her miserable day, she’d found it in her heart to overlook his outrageous conduct—actually, to dismiss it as though he were irrelevant—well, he didn’t like that. But he hadn’t exactly swept her off her feet with his charm. He’d been cruel and callous, living up to the awful reputation he’d deliberately created over the years.

  Damn.

  He felt about as low as the scrapings on the soles of his boots.

  Lower than those scrapings.

  “She’s had her hands full with the family,” he listened to Daisy continue in support of her mother, and thought her too willing to forgive that obviously addled lady. “I don’t mind, really. And the dresses will be ready in time for Lord Hornby’s ball. I’ll gladly ride with you then.”

 

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