by Cheryl Holt
“Will you?” Miss Watson’s eyes flashed with temper. “Well, then, I hope you make your opinion very clear. He has a bit of a problem with his hearing.”
“What’s the matter with his hearing?” Lord Benton asked.
“He doesn’t like to listen,” Miss Watson said.
“Oh.” Lord Benton snorted with amusement. “I’ve noticed the same issue myself, so you’re a very astute judge of character.”
Jo butted in. “May I meet Daisy now? I really can’t bear further delay.”
“Yes, I’ll fetch her,” Miss Watson said.
“Has she been told about her mother and how she came to Benton?” Jo inquired. “Has she been told that Neville Prescott is her father?”
“Yes, Miss Bates, she’s been told. I’ve ensured there are no secrets in this house. There may be plenty of secrets over at the manor, but not here.”
Miss Watson went to the foyer and summoned Daisy. As they waited, Jo glanced at Lord Benton.
“Let’s bring Daisy down by herself,” she said. “The three of them together might prove a handful.”
“That’s fine,” he agreed.
Shortly, Daisy’s footsteps echoed on the stairs, and they rose to greet her. She entered the room, and Jo got her first glimpse of her niece.
She was pretty as a picture, blond and blue-eyed, thin and lithe. Her hair was braided down her back in a single braid, and it hung to her waist. She was wearing a blue dress, with a white pinafore over top, and the blue of the dress enhanced the blue of her eyes. She looked fresh-scrubbed and well-tended.
It was obvious she was Maud’s daughter. There were many similarities, but it was as if all of Maud’s defects had been wiped away. The flaws were gone and only the very sweetest parts remained.
Fleetingly, Jo wondered if it was Neville Prescott’s aristocratic blood that had vanquished Maud’s lesser traits. Whatever had rendered such a lovely combination, Jo was delighted.
“My, my, aren’t you beautiful?” she murmured as her opening salvo. She was so ecstatic she couldn’t hold in her words.
“Daisy,” Miss Watson said, “this is Lord Benton, and he’s brought your Aunt Bates.”
“Hello, Lord Benton,” Daisy said. “Hello, my Aunt Bates.”
She executed a perfect curtsy to Lord Benton, and she didn’t appear nervous at all. She seemed confident and merry, and she wasn’t shy or modest, wasn’t sullen or morose as Maud was apt to be. Again, Jo wondered if Neville’s traits were leading the charge or if Miss Watson had instilled a huge dose of poise and optimism.
The adults sat down, but Daisy dawdled by Miss Watson’s chair. She studied them, and they studied her.
No one could figure out how to begin, and Jo broke the awkward silence, telling Daisy, “You should call me Aunt Jo. I think Aunt Bates sounds as if I’m a hundred years old.”
Daisy grinned. “I will call you Aunt Jo. I’d like that.”
Lord Benton asked, “Would you call me Commander Prescott?”
At the request, Daisy was horrified, and she peeked at Miss Watson for guidance. Miss Watson shook her head, and Daisy said, “I don’t believe I ought, Lord Benton. Miss Watson wouldn’t like it.”
“Your aunt won’t call me Commander Prescott either.” He sighed dramatically. “Is there one female on this blasted estate who will obey me?”
“No,” the three females retorted in unison, and they all laughed which cut through the tension.
“I didn’t know about you until yesterday,” Lord Benton told Daisy.
“Yes, I heard. Miss Watson explained everything.”
“Do you like it here? Have you been happy?”
“I’ve been very happy, Lord Benton.” She paused, and Miss Watson made a slight gesture, urging her on. “I would like to say that I hope you’ll be kind to my brother and sister, Bobby and Jane. I don’t care so much what is arranged for me, but I worry about them. They’ve been very anxious. Especially Jane. She’s a worrier.”
“We’ll find a good ending for everyone,” he graciously responded, and Daisy relaxed, clearly receiving great comfort from his comment.
Jo peered over at Miss Watson, then Lord Benton. “Would the two of you mind if Daisy and I take a walk? I’d like to spend some time alone with her.”
“It’s fine with me,” Miss Watson said. “How about you, Lord Benton?”
“Yes, and while you’re gone, Miss Bates, I’ll chat with Bobby and Jane. Why don’t we meet up in an hour? We can ride to the manor together.”
She wanted to refuse, wanted to declare that she would tarry much longer than that and she would return to the manor by herself. But she wouldn’t argue with him in front of the others, and it was several miles of winding country roads back to the manor. She wasn’t sure she could locate it on her own.
Anyway, she could visit Daisy in the future. This didn’t have to be the only occasion.
“Yes, an hour should be plenty,” Jo said.
Miss Watson smiled at Daisy. “Why don’t you show your aunt all your favorite spots? You’ll give her some idea of how your life is structured.”
“Might I show her my bedchamber too before she leaves?”
“Of course,” Miss Watson said.
Jo added, “I’d like that very much.”
Jo stood and approached her niece, and a very dear sense of connection flitted between them. It seemed as if they’d always known each other, as if they’d never been strangers a single moment.
“Let’s go, shall we?’ Jo said. “We’ll stroll as slowly as we can while you tell me every important detail I should discover about you. I’d like to become a Daisy expert.”
“First off,” Daisy said, “I’m very smart. Aren’t I smart, Miss Watson?”
“You are the smartest girl in the world, Daisy.” Miss Watson chuckled. “You’re very humble too.”
“I am not humble,” Daisy protested.
“That was a joke, Daisy,” Miss Watson said. “Now go with your aunt, so Bobby and Jane can be introduced to their uncle.”
“Goodbye, Lord Benton.” Daisy curtsied again.
“I’ll be here when you get back,” he said.
Jo flashed a look to inform him that she was overwhelmed and glad he’d attended the appointment with her. He flashed a look too, informing her that he felt the same.
Then she clasped her niece’s hand, linked their fingers, and they walked outside.
* * * *
Daisy gazed up at her Aunt Jo, and she couldn’t stop staring.
Her aunt was young and beautiful and very, very kind. Kindness practically oozed out of her. For the past three years, Miss Watson had been their governess, and Daisy often pretended that Miss Watson was actually her mother. She hadn’t thought she would ever like a woman more than Miss Watson, but her Aunt Jo was perfect. Miss Watson had been replaced in her affections.
Their hour had passed much too quickly, and they were on the way back to the cottage. Daisy had showed her the woods and their barn where they had a milk cow and chickens. They’d loafed by the stream where Bobby liked to fish.
Miss Watson had let them have a dog, and after significant debate, they’d named it Rex. He was trotting behind them, and he appeared as enchanted by her aunt as Daisy was.
Daisy was very worried about Rex. Once they all left and the cottage was shut down, what would happen to him? He’d be forlorn without them, and she was desperate to bring him with her. She was hoping it might be allowed, but with the future so uncertain, she didn’t dare mention the problem.
“We have a few minutes remaining,” Aunt Jo said. “Shall we sit?”
“I’d like that.”
There was an old rock wall bordering the lane. They waded through the grass and plopped down. The forest was very quiet, and Aunt Jo smiled as she studied the surroundings.
“It’s pretty here,” she murmured.
“Very pretty.”
“You tol
d Lord Benton that you’ve been happy.” Her aunt frowned. “Have you been? Or were you merely being polite?”
“I’ve been happy.”
“What do you think about having to depart?”
“I’ll miss Bobby and Jane.”
“Have you any idea where they’re headed?”
“Jane has an uncle in Cornwall, but Bobby doesn’t have anyone. Mr. Slater has written to Jane’s uncle to request that the man take them both. I guess he has a huge farm, so it might work. Miss Watson has written too, but he hasn’t answered.”
“If he never replies, has there been any gossip as to what Mr. Slater has planned?”
“No, but…”
Her voice trailed off. She liked her aunt so much, and she was afraid to offer a comment that would make her aunt not like Daisy in return.
“But what?” her Aunt Jo asked.
“I don’t know if I should repeat a grownup conversation. I probably shouldn’t.”
“You can tell me. We shouldn’t ever have secrets.”
“Mr. Slater can be…difficult. That’s what Miss Watson says about him. He visits us occasionally, and they argue. We hear them.”
“I’m sorry that you have. You children should be spared any adult bickering.”
“Last time, she called him a heartless monster.”
“My goodness. I’m surprised she still has a job.”
“It’s ending when we leave Benton.” Daisy wrinkled up her nose. “I don’t like quarreling.”
“Neither do I.”
“I’m afraid for Bobby and Jane. If Jane’s uncle won’t take them, Mr. Slater warned Miss Watson they’ll be sent to an orphanage.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”
“If I eventually come to live with you, could they come too? And how about Rex? Could he come?”
“No, Daisy. If I can make arrangements, it will have to be just for you. I couldn’t assist them. I’d like to, but I can’t. I’ll have enough of a problem getting you settled.”
“I understand,” Daisy mumbled.
She’d been a burden all her life, and she was aware of her lowly place in the world, but just once, she’d like to be somewhere where people were glad to have her. It didn’t seem like too much to ask, but maybe it was.
“Did you know your father very well?” Aunt Jo inquired.
“No. He didn’t stop by very often.”
“But when he did stop by, what was your opinion of him?”
“He was very handsome and funny. He told jokes, and he always slipped a penny into my pocket. I have all of them in a jar. I’ve never spent any of them.” She blushed, her cheeks heating. “I like having them. I like looking at them.”
“Of course you do. They’re from your father.”
“I don’t have very much from him, but I have those.”
“Has Miss Watson shared much information about your mother?”
“A bit, but she’s never had much information.”
“You shouldn’t have any illusions about the sort of person she is.”
“Miss Watson said much the same. I haven’t gotten my hopes up.”
“Your mother is a hard woman, and she’s never been very happy. I’ll speak with her about your living with us, but I’m certain she’ll be very opposed.”
“What would happen to me then?”
“Don’t worry about it yet. The adults are working on a resolution.”
“What if you can’t figure it out?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we have to.”
“I wouldn’t be scared of an orphanage—if I could be there with Jane and Bobby. If I can’t be with you, I’d like to stay with them. I hate for us to be split apart.”
“Oh, Daisy…” Her aunt sighed. “You’re very brave.”
“I’m trying to be.”
“I’ve just met Lord Benton, and he’s very kind. If I can’t devise a path on my own, I’m positive he’ll help me.”
Daisy forced a smile, determined to never upset her aunt, but Lord Benton was a Prescott, and Daisy had been raised at Benton.
For years, she’d listened to the servants gossiping about her exalted relatives, and she had her father’s conduct toward her as a measure of what would likely occur. She didn’t expect her uncle to behave any better than her father had.
Aristocrats were busy. Earls were busy. Men were busy. She’d heard it constantly. They didn’t have the time or energy to fuss over one little girl.
“I’m going to London tomorrow,” Aunt Jo said.
“Why?”
“Your mother is there, and I have to talk to her about you. She’s engaged to be married, and her wedding is in September. She’s shopping for her trousseau.”
Daisy’s spirits sank. If her mother was about to marry, she wouldn’t be concerned about a daughter she’d abandoned a decade earlier.
“Who is her betrothed?” she asked.
“Mr. Thompson Townsend.”
“Is he persnickety? From his name, it sounds as if he might be.”
Jo chuckled. “Yes, he’s very persnickety. You’ve pegged his character exactly.”
“Would you imagine my mother has told him about me?”
“I doubt it very much, and I won’t lie to you. Her marriage is definitely an issue for us. It’s why I have to talk to her.”
“If it was your decision, I could live with you?”
“Yes. If it were up to me, I’d take you with me today.”
It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. “I wish I could go with you today too.”
“In the meantime, I’ll write to keep you posted as to where I am and what I’m doing. But only if you promise to write back.”
“I will write back.”
“And I’ll visit you as soon as I can—if Miss Watson won’t mind.”
“She won’t mind. She’s the best person in the world—besides you.”
Daisy couldn’t stop herself. She threw herself against her aunt and hugged her as tightly as she could. Her aunt hugged her too, her grip so firm that Daisy could barely breathe.
“I’m glad you’re my aunt,” she whispered.
“So am I.” Her aunt kissed the top of her head, then eased away. “After I’ve spoken to your mother, I’ll let you know what she says.”
“Will you always tell me the truth? Please? It’s so frustrating to fret and not be sure. Even if she doesn’t want me, don’t fib about it. Just tell me straight out.”
“I will. I swear.” Her aunt stood, and she pulled Daisy to her feet too. “Now then, we should get back. We’re running late, and Lord Benton is probably pacing.”
“I hate that you have to leave.”
“I hate it too, but I’ll see you again before you can blink.”
“I can’t wait.”
* * * *
“What a tangle.”
“I agree.”
Jo was in the carriage with Lord Benton and on her way to the manor. He’d tied his horse to the rear and had climbed in with her.
When she’d returned to the cottage, he’d been out front with Bobby and Jane. They’d all been introduced, and Bobby and Jane were as charming as Daisy. They’d been polite and interesting, but there had been an obvious current of dismay that permeated their every word.
It had to be terrifying to be so young, to have their fates being determined by adults who weren’t necessarily concerned about them.
“What is your opinion of Bobby and Jane?” she asked Lord Benton.
“I liked them very much, but when I was chatting with them, all I could contemplate was my brother and his being such an irresponsible ass. What was he thinking, having so many affairs? And to sire so many illicit children! Is it any wonder my sister-in-law is outraged?”
“No, I can’t blame her for being upset, and I’m impressed that she tolerated it for so long. If I’d been his wife, I never would have.”
“So you had no idea?”
“No, and I’m stunned. When we were boys, my father treated him like a saint.”
His anguish evident, he leaned into the window and gazed out at the passing trees.
“What now?” she inquired after a bit. “What should be done?”
“I haven’t a clue.” He glanced over at her. “I’m wretched. How about you?”
“I can hardly claim to be marvelous.”
“I like Daisy. She seems very sweet.”
“She was. She is.”
“You have to talk to your sister. What will she say?”
“It will be so rude and shocking that I could never repeat any of it to you.”
“It can’t possibly be as bad as my having to confer with Barbara.”
“She’s your brother’s widow? The Countess?”
“Yes, and she won’t be any more rational than your sister. I can’t decide which of us has the more difficult task.”
“Perhaps it’s a draw.”
“Perhaps.”
They were sitting side by side on the seat, and he reached over and laid a hand atop hers. It was a kind gesture of solace and support, and she should have pulled away, but she didn’t. She was extremely overwhelmed, out of her element, and in desperate need of a friend.
“I’d better go to London tomorrow,” she said. “I have to get this resolved. I shouldn’t delay.”
“I’m off to town myself. We’ll go together.”
“I probably shouldn’t,” she was compelled to protest.
“If you don’t come with me, how will you travel? On the public coach again?”
“Well, yes.”
He scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know I won’t permit it.”
“You’re not my father. Nor am I one of your sailors. You’re not allowed to command me.”
“We’re both headed to town on the same day. It’s silly to use separate vehicles.”
“You’ve already been much too gracious, and I’ve imposed on you horridly. If you’re not careful, I’ll start to assume you’re wonderful.”