by Aileen Fish
He chuckled again and eased his large frame so that his back rested against the polished leather squabs.
His long legs grazed hers as the carriage jerkily pulled away.
She let out a slight gasp— more of another eep really. Definitely not fair! She had better sense—or ought to have had better sense—than to respond to that knave’s accidental touch. And why was she still thinking of his lips and wishing to lick them?
Eloise was now staring at her. “Did you say something, Daisy?”
How could she when she could hardly string two words together? “No.”
“I thought you did,” she insisted, casting Daisy an assessing smile. Oh, dear. Was Eloise really thinking of using her to civilize her grandson?
She had to disabuse her of the notion at once. “But I didn’t say anything just now. Nor did I mean what I said earlier. You remember.” She arched an eyebrow and subtly glanced in Gabriel’s direction.
“Why not? I thought it was an excellent idea,” Eloise persisted.
“I know. But it isn’t.”
“Ah, I see.” Eloise’s smile broadened as she also cast a subtle glance in Gabriel’s direction. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice. “I do see.”
Daisy stifled a groan. “I don’t think you do, Eloise.”
“I’m sure I do.”
“I don’t think so.” Crumpets! She recognized that look of determination. Eloise was going to match make. A terrible idea that would not end well for her or Gabriel.
“But I do.”
Daisy heaved a sigh. “And I—”
“May I interrupt this scintillating conversation?” Gabriel asked dryly.
“Please do,” Daisy said, certain this evening was headed for disaster. She couldn’t possibly reform this rakehell, for she was an utter nitwit whenever in his presence. She didn’t understand why, but his wretched smirk was making matters worse. How rude of him! Indeed, quite rude. She had forgiven his behavior at their first meeting, but had no intention of doing so now.
“Your grandmother and I were trying to hold an intelligent conversation... that is to say, we are usually capable of holding intelligent conversations... and often do... at least, your grandmother does... though we aren’t having one just now, are we?”
Oh, dear. She was rambling and he was grinning.
A deliciously soft grin.
And now her entire body was doing the same odd, tingling dance it had done the first day they’d met.
“Yes,” she continued, wishing he’d stop looking at her in that dangerous, heart-melting way. “That’s why you sought to interrupt. Is there something clever you wish to say?”
“Clever?” He let out a throaty chuckle. “That puts me under quite a bit of pressure. I merely wished to thank my grandmother for allowing me to ride with her to Lord Hornby’s ball. Thought I’d mention it before the evening wore on and I became distracted.”
“Quite understandable... er, yes.” Daisy began to fidget with her lace collar.
“Stop fussing,” Eloise whispered. “Pay no attention to that oaf, even if he is my grandson. You’re a delight and you look just fine.”
“For a snowball,” she whispered, feeling impossibly unsophisticated. Her gown needed more fabric at the bodice and less everywhere else. She felt miserable and uncomfortable, and Gabriel was still staring at her.
Finally he leaned forward, a mischievous grin on his lips. “Daisy—”
“Oh, dear! Please don’t tell me what you really think of me tonight. Let me keep a shred of dignity!”
He drew back and regarded her with something resembling astonished sincerity. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t.”
“But you look scared.”
“Not of you, but of the mistakes I’m sure to make tonight. You see, this is my first ball, and my first chance to make my family proud. I want everything to be perfect, but I’m so... so... and my gown is just... just...”
“Beautiful and so are you,” he said with unexpected gentleness.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
He leaned forward and took her hands in his, imbuing her with his warmth. “Daisy, you do look lovely and that’s the plain truth.”
“Are you certain?” she finally eked out.
“Yes.” He graced her with a long, lazy smile.
Daisy felt her cheeks flame. Great balls of cheese! The man was dangerous.
Is this how he’d seduced Lady What’s-Her-Name? And why Lord What’s-His-Name had shot him? Be clever... be calm... do not acknowledge this rogue. Oh, she desperately wanted to think of a smart retort to put him in his place. He had no right to be nice to her.
Certainly not this nice.
He flashed her another lazy smile.
The man was too, too handsome. And confident. And shameless.
His devastating smile was now causing her blood to bubble and her toes to curl in that pleasant way they curled beside a warming fire on a snowy day. Yes, they were definitely curling inside her slippers. Which meant she’d trip and fall flat on her face the moment she descended from the carriage, staining her dress—which really wouldn’t be a bad thing—and probably scraping her elbows. That wouldn’t be good.
Actually, none of it would be good.
She’d be a laughingstock, and Gabriel’s brother would never take her as his wife. He’d seek out an Incomparable, a woman of elegance who spoke with intelligence and could bear him exquisite children. She, on the other hand, would be shipped off to the Farthingale country home in Coniston, left to dream of unrequited love while rambling among the fields of lavender and dense bracken, lamenting the only man she’d ever loved—Alexander, if she ever got to meet him—and how he might have loved her, if only she hadn’t fallen flat on her face at her first ball.
“... which is why I hoped you would accept. Will you, Daisy?”
“What?” She slipped her hands out of his warm grasp. “I’m sorry, were you speaking to me?” Lord, what did he just say? “I... could you please repeat the question? Actually, I’d need to hear everything you said before the question.”
He threw back his head and roared with laughter.
Eloise burst into laughter as well. “Oh, this is too, too funny!”
Daisy desperately gazed from one to the other. “What is? Please tell me.”
“No,” Gabriel said, still laughing. “You’ve unmanned me, left me mortally wounded and drowning in my own blood.”
“I have? That sounds awful. I’m sorry for my inattentiveness, but I’m sure you’ll find others at the ball more interested in what you have to say. No, no! I didn’t mean it quite that way. I’m certain you’re quite interesting when you’re...”
“Not insufferable?”
“You’re a fascinating speaker. Positively gripping. And I’m sure I would have been enthralled had I bothered to listen.” Oh, crumpets. “Please tell me what you said.”
“No, not even if my life depended upon it.”
***
“I didn’t think it possible,” Ian said, catching up to Gabriel in Lord Hornby’s crowded gaming room later that evening. “You’re afraid of the girl.”
Gabriel stifled a sigh, knowing Ian would not relent in his quest to unearth the latest gossip about him and Daisy. “What girl, Your Grace?”
“Don’t you dare Your Grace me. You’re obviously trying to avoid the question, but you can’t. I’m speaking of Miss Daisy Farthingale, of course. Could I be speaking of anyone else?”
Gabriel shrugged. “I don’t know. By the way, thank you for Desiree. She was every bit as compliant as you indicated. We passed a most pleasant evening.”
“Ah, very cleverly switching the topic of conversation. But it won’t work. I know you spent the night alone at home and not with Desiree. I’m guessing Daisy had everything to do with that surprising decision and I’m now determined to learn everything I can about the girl.”
“That’s easily
remedied. Why don’t you ask her to dance?” Gabriel gazed through the double French doors into the Hornby ballroom, which was packed with revelers, the women in crisp satin and jewels, the men in white tie and black formal attire. Strains of a waltz drifted through the hallway toward them. “There she is by the door, chatting with her Aunt Julia and Lord Hornby’s insipid son, Lumley. I’m certain she’d love to be rescued.”
“Not by me. I readily admit to being too cowardly to approach any of the Farthingale girls. Can’t risk being caught up in the whirlwind of marriage.” Ian let out an exaggerated shudder. “No, very happy to observe from a distance. But you’ve actually exchanged bodily fluids with her cousin. Or rather, you were on the receiving end of his little gift.”
“Damn it,” he said, curling his hands into fists to stem his exasperation. “Three-year-old infants have accidents, and I grant you I’d be laughing heartily if it had happened to you.”
“Gabriel, I don’t mean to give you a hard time. It’s just that you seem so calm about your impending... ah, how shall I tactfully put it?”
“Doom? No chance of it. I’ve exchanged nothing but pleasantries with the girl.” That is, if one overlooked the heart-wrenching set down he’d subjected her to the first day they’d met. He still felt terrible about it.
“You’re hiding from her.”
“I am not. If anything, she’s resisting me.” Not that he blamed her.
Unaware of Gabriel’s earlier rough treatment of the girl, Ian chuckled. “What have you asked her to do?”
“Dance. She has refused.”
“That isn’t possible. She’s supposed to be chasing you and you’re supposed to be fleeing. But she’ll catch you anyway.”
Gabriel uttered a silent prayer for this conversation to end. “Neither of us is chasing and neither of us is fleeing.”
“I don’t understand,” Ian insisted with a shake of his head. “You’re cursed. You walked down that street. You’re a marked man. Your bachelor life is about to end, even though you put down a six-month deposit on a charming apartment on Curzon Street for the lovely Desiree.”
Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “Kindly amuse yourself at someone else’s expense. I do not like to be spied upon.”
“I’m just trying to protect you. Now, you say the girl has refused to dance with you?”
“Yes,” Gabriel said with a nod.
“And you asked her?”
He nodded again. “Yes.”
“Nicely?”
“I asked her very nicely.”
Ian shook his head again as though confused. “And she said no.”
“Yes, she said no. The girl is not interested in me. I bore her to tears.” Though she’d delighted him to no end on their ride to Lord Hornby’s.
Ian cast him a painful look. “This isn’t possible.”
“Now you’re the one looking like the deer about to be shot.”
“This is no jest, Gabriel. If you’re not the next victim of the Chipping Way curse, then who is?”
Gabriel grinned broadly. “Perhaps it’s you. Perhaps you were meant to walk down that street, rescue Harry Farthingale, and fall in love with Daisy.”
“Me?” Ian rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Is it possible? But I don’t wish to fall in love with her. She’s the silliest of the lot!”
Gabriel struggled to keep his hands at his sides and not circled around his friend’s throat. “Don’t you ever speak of her that way. She’s clever and warm hearted. And we’re just a pair of condescending fools who don’t deserve her notice. If you ever—”
Ian smiled wickedly. “Gad, you’re gullible. The girl is obviously delightful, but I wasn’t sure you’d noticed.” His wicked smile broadened. “It is you, after all. Thank goodness!”
Chapter 5
A rake enjoys a tempting morsel. A lady will permit his eye to wonder, but never his hand to wander.
Ian’s silly game had gone on long enough, Gabriel decided.
He had to put a stop to it before Ian—in a drunken slip—did or said something foolish, perhaps revealed to Daisy that he, Gabriel, had been shot while breaking up a spy ring loyal to Napoleon, not while bedding a married woman.
Yes, he had to put an end to Ian’s game at once.
Daisy wasn’t meant for him. Indeed, Eloise had assured him that the girl was mad for his brother even though they hadn’t yet met. In effect, she’d fallen in love with Alex’s reputation. Gabriel was glad of it. Indeed, he was. Alex was a good sort, proper husband material, and a viscount to boot.
He, on the other hand, wasn’t suitable at all. He had a vile reputation, fully deserved, and he fully intended to do all in his power to uphold it. Now that he was home and his wounds were healed, he meant to spend his precious days making up for lost time in the company of loose women.
Love? Marriage?
Utter rubbish. Not for him.
He’d put an end to the nonsense by insisting Daisy dance with him, then calmly walk away once the set was through. That would put Ian and any fellow doubters in their place. All he had to do was find her in this crush.
Sweet, unspoiled Daisy.
Though he’d heard rumor of some incident in her past. Bah! He knew women, and she was still an innocent. He’d stake his life on it.
He spotted Eloise chatting with his cousin Graelem and approached them. “Have you seen Daisy?” he asked, not bothering with pleasantries.
The two exchanged smug glances.
“It’s a simple question,” he declared, growing impatient.
Graelem chuckled. “No, we haven’t seen her.”
“Well, not since she left the ballroom with Lord Hornby’s son,” Eloise added.
Gabriel regarded them incredulously. “And you let her go off with that... that... foolscap?”
Eloise shrugged. “You’re hardly considered a prize and we would have let her go off with you.”
No, you wouldn’t.
“I overheard him say something about getting Daisy alone in the conservatory,” Graelem teased. “You know, that steamy room filled with lush ferns and delicately scented flowers. Oh, and lots of dark hiding places. But don’t worry, I’m certain the thought of kissing Daisy hasn’t crossed his mind.”
Had Graelem and Eloise, even Ian, always been this irritating and he simply hadn’t noticed? Or had their characters changed for the worse during his absence from England? “The conservatory, you say?”
He marched through the crowded ballroom and strode past the gaming room and dining room, peering into each before proceeding down the long, dimly lit hallway. Is Lord Hornby too cheap to provide adequate candlelight for his guests? he thought testily.
He reached the door to the conservatory and was surprised to find it closed. He flung it open with his shoulder and immediately heard a giggle coming from behind an overgrown fern. Graelem truly had allowed Daisy to go off alone with that dull cabbage, Lumley! He couldn’t believe it! Daisy was obviously inexperienced, unaware of the games played at such ton gatherings. “There’ll be no more of that, young lady!”
He reached into the ferns and pulled out Dorothea Hobbs and the pimply-faced Tom Quigley. Dorothea squinted up at him, her lips curling in a too broad smile. “Lord Dayne, were you looking for me?”
“Er, pardon me. My mistake.” He backed out of the conservatory.
Where was Daisy?
He began to open doors along the hallway. Billiard room. Study. Lady Hornby’s parlor. Library.
He paused at the threshold of the library. “Daisy? What are you doing in here?”
She stood alone in the near dark, a lone, lit candle revealing her slight frame slumped against the fireplace mantel. “Please, leave me alone.”
“Are you crying?” He was certain he’d heard a sniffle mingled with her words.
“You needn’t concern yourself. You aren’t responsible for these tears.” She tensed as he stepped in and closed the door. “Just go away. I don’t need your condescension to complete
my perfect evening.”
He started toward her. “I suppose I deserved that. Tell me what happened. What did Lord Hornby do to you?”
“Lumley?”
He nodded.
“Oh, him. Nothing really.”
He came to her side, his heart slamming against his chest. Nothing really? What the hell did that mean? “Look at me, Daisy.”
“No,” she said and turned away.
He placed his hands on her slender shoulders and gently turned her once again to face him. She offered little resistance. “What did he do?” he asked in softest voice, straining to subdue his anger. Of course, it wasn’t directed at her but at everyone who should have been protecting her and wasn’t, particularly her parents, who seemed more concerned with accommodating their never-ending stream of guests than guarding their precious daughter. Leaving this beautiful girl untended in such surroundings was like dropping a lamb into a pack of hungry wolves.
“Truly, Lord Dayne. He did nothing at all.”
“The name’s Gabriel. If not Lumley Hornby, then—”
“No one bothered me.”
Confused, he released her and ran a hand through his hair. “Then why are you crying?”
She hesitated a moment, obviously struggling to compose herself, and obviously about to lose the struggle. Her lips began to quiver. Her hands began to shake. Finally, she buried her face in her hands and burst into sobs. “I tried so hard... so hard to prove I was responsible. Now, I’ll be forever branded the foggy-headed Farthingale, just as you accused.”
Had he called her that?
“You were right about me and I was so wrong to resent you for it!”
He drew her close and wrapped his arms about her, surprised by the depth of her sorrow and alarmed by his sudden, overwhelming need to protect her. “Daisy, please tell me what happened.”
“I lost the family heirloom pearls. I shouldn’t have worn the necklace this evening because the clasp was broken, but Mother insisted it had been repaired. Rather than fight about it, I put on the necklace just as every Farthingale debutante has done for the last hundred years. I ought to have known better and should have said something, but didn’t. Now it’s lost and I’ve destroyed the proud family tradition!”