Dare to be Brazen (Daring Daughters Book 2)

by Emma V. Leech

  Eliza was studying the list of donations in return for entry to the tombola when she heard the carriage pull up.

  “My lady, there’s someone here,” Martha shouted from downstairs.

  “Coming, Martha,” Eliza called back.

  She had still not forgiven Martha for her interference in her relationship with Nic, but neither could Eliza bring herself to dismiss her for it. Martha had been with her for years, and Eliza had always trusted her. That trust had been shaken, but she knew at heart that Martha had done it out of love for her. She smiled as she realised she could not entirely blame Nic for his anger with Louis César, as they were contending with much the same predicament. She set her list aside for now and made her way downstairs, presuming that was the man himself. Louis César’s letter had been somewhat cryptic, and she did not know what favour he could wish to ask of her, but she smoothed down her skirts and walked down the stairs to find out.

  She got to the front door of the school just in time to see Louis turn back to the carriage and put his hand out to a young girl. Eliza went out to greet them, by now rabid with curiosity.

  “Good afternoon,” she called, in time to see a girl take his hand and, ignoring the steps, leap down from the carriage.

  Louis César tsked at the girl who just smirked at him.

  “Lady Elizabeth,” Louis said, greeting her warmly. “It is a pleasure to see you, and looking radiant as always.”

  Eliza laughed, giving her plain brown dress a critical glance. “Well, I’m hardly dressed in my finery, but thank you, a pretty compliment all the same.”

  “Ah, but this has nothing to do with your gown and everything to do with the glow of happiness in your lovely face. I take it things are going well with a certain gentleman?”

  “They are,” she said, a little shy of discussing such things with the keen blue gaze of the girl beside him studying her fiercely. Eliza looked at the girl, at the deep blue eyes and thick mahogany tumble of unkempt hair, and then at Louis César, at his deep blue eyes and dark hair….

  “No,” Louis said firmly. “I only came to England last summer, and I am reliably informed she is ten years old.”

  Eliza blushed, horrified by her assumption. “I do beg your pardon, I ought never—”

  Louis waved this away. “Think no more of it. I do not blame you for thinking such a thing. Indeed, there is something about the child that reminds me of me. No doubt why I am here. I would like to ask if you have a place for her?”

  Eliza opened and closed her mouth, a little stunned. “Oh. Why… yes. I expect so.”

  She was relieved by the arrival of Cat, who had clearly spied them from an upstairs window and come to investigate. The two girls looked at each other. Cat was a beautiful child and clearly a very privileged one. Though she too had dressed plainly to work at the school, her gown was of fine fabric and beautifully made, her pale blonde hair was dressed in pretty ringlets, and her cheeks were pink with good health. The other child stared at her, mouth open in astonishment, as if Cat had stepped from the pages of a fairy story.

  Cat was clearly no less intrigued, and indeed the girl was an interesting sight. Her hair was clean but untamed, though someone had made an attempt at combing it out, but the real wildness lived in her beautiful eyes. They were an astonishing shade of blue, wide and thickly lashed, and they dominated her elfin face. She was far too skinny, though, and her plain blue cotton dress was ill made and a little too big.

  “Are you an orphan?” Cat asked her bluntly.

  “Yeah. What of it?” the girl retorted, folding her arms. “You a nob?”

  “Aggie,” Louis César said, a warning note to his voice.

  Cat snickered at the cant term. “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “You look like a doll,” Aggie observed, her keen gaze looking Cat up and down. “Do you dress like that all the time? How can you run in all them petticoats?”

  Cat looked down at herself with a frown. “No, this is my plainest gown, in case it got dirty. Why would I need to run?”

  “To get away,” Aggie answered, as if that were obvious.

  “How fascinating,” Cat replied, considering this with interest. “Was your father a drunken brute?”

  “Catherine!” Eliza exclaimed, horrified.

  Cat looked sheepish until Aggie replied.

  “Happens he was. Why?”

  “Gosh,” Cat breathed, looking at Aggie with something like awe. “I’m very sorry. I’ve only read such things in books. Did… Did you live in the workhouse?”

  “For about a year. Until I ran away,” Aggie added with a defiant glint in her eyes.

  Cat stared at her in wonder.

  “How brave you are. I’ve never been out of my garden by myself. You must come and tell me all about it,” she said firmly, grasping the girl’s hand and towing her down the path towards the school. “We are going to be great friends.”

  “Oh, dear,” Eliza said faintly.

  Aggie sent a wide-eyed glance back at Louis César, but was too swept up in the force of nature that was Lady Catherine to protest.

  “I am not certain—” Louis César began, frowning.

  “Oh, I’m very certain,” Eliza said with conviction. “That is a terrifying combination.”

  She turned back to Louis César, who gave her an apologetic smile.

  “Can you help her, Eliza?”

  “I will certainly try, but why…?”

  Louis laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “I have been asking myself that since the day I met her. She lifted my watch,” he added wryly.

  “Oh!”

  “Well, you must expect the children who come here to need help and guidance, Eliza. They have to survive, do they not?”

  Eliza gave an impatient click of her tongue. “I am not a fool, despite what people seem to believe. I know there will be challenges ahead and that some of the children will be difficult, ungrateful, and unruly. I was only surprised that you helped such a child. Most would have her prosecuted. I cannot think of many who would not only forgive the crime, but help the perpetrator. Why did you?”

  Louis pursed his lips for a moment, watching the gardeners hard at work. He turned back to her. “I told you. She reminded me of myself.”

  He held her gaze and Eliza gasped as she realised what he was saying.

  “You…?”

  “I was a thief, yes, and a circus performer, like my brother. Are you shocked?”

  There was something cold and hard in his eyes, and Eliza saw that he was waiting to be rejected, despite the fact she loved his brother.

  “Yes, I am shocked,” she said, knowing she could not fob him off with pleasant words and have him believe it. “I find it hard to believe you are anything but a nobleman and have been all your life, but how did you and Nic—?”

  Louis shook his head. “I cannot tell Nic’s story for him, so don’t ask me. If you want to know more, you must ask him yourself. Indeed, you must make him tell you, Eliza.”

  Eliza reached out and put a hand on his arm. “And what of your story, Louis?”

  He shrugged and gave her a smile that tugged at her heart. “It is one and the same.”

  Somehow, she did not believe that was entirely true, but he clearly had no wish to speak of it, so she did not pry further. He was inspecting the school now and watching the two small figures that were just visible via the windows, running from room to room.

  “So, you have rescued this child like Nic rescued you. Is that it?”

  “I suppose so,” he said, nodding. “Will you take her? I shall give your school a more than generous donation and cover all her costs, charity or no.”

  “Of course I shall take her, but not yet. The school is not ready. I am hoping by the end of the month, but not before.”

  “The end of the month?” he repeated with obvious dismay. “You couldn’t…?”

  “There’s no one here to look after her, no one to cook, or teach. I will happily take her th
en, though.” She watched him, and saw the tight little knot of concern between his eyebrows. “I suppose I might be able to arrange something….”

  “No,” Louis shook his head. “No, I took it upon myself to interfere in her life. She’s my responsibility now.”

  “What will you do?”

  He shrugged.

  “I don’t know. I dragged her from the streets with the promise of the school, of being fed and safe, and….” He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Never mind. I’ll think of something.”

  Eliza nodded, certain that he would. Louis had a kind heart. For all he played the elegant insouciant nobleman, he cared about things enough to act, not to just feel pity and move on like most people. He cared about his brother’s happiness, and about a girl on the streets with no one else to help her.

  “You are a good man, Louis César. I shall be proud to call you my brother.”

  He gave her a look that she could not read, but there was a touch of something vulnerable there that seemed to doubt her words.

  “Even though I am a thief and a liar, a disgrace to my noble blood?” he said, looking amused and cynical, but Eliza did not believe him.

  He was not as flippant as he made out.

  “Don’t say such things. I do not believe them to be true, and I know Nic is proud of you. And you need not worry that I would ever breathe a word of what you have told me.”

  He did laugh at that, though Eliza could not find it a happy sound.

  “Sometimes, Eliza, I wish very much that someone would tell all. It might be a relief. However, that is enough of my sordid past for one day. I had better go and discover what my little hellcat is up to before we all live to regret it.”

  Eliza watched him go, puzzled and disconcerted, and wondering what on earth Louis would do with the girl now.

  It was perhaps an hour after Louis had gone that Nic arrived unexpectedly. Eliza had been unpacking a box of donated goods left on the doorstep by a benefactor when she’d heard a carriage arriving. Except it wasn’t a carriage, it was a horse and cart, and Nic was driving it.

  Hurrying outside, she took a quick peek around to check no one was watching before she ran to him and threw her arms about his neck.

  “Nic!” she said, kissing his cheek. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “I wanted to surprise you,” he said, looking adorably sheepish. He glanced about before tilting her chin and stealing a kiss. Then, much to her dismay, he let her go. “I have something for you.”

  “Another kiss?” she said hopefully.

  Nic blew out a breath and shook his head. “No, and stop trying to tempt me into misbehaving, you little devil. You’re supposed to be a good influence on a bad man, remember.”

  Eliza frowned at him. “Since when? I never agreed to that.”

  He chuckled and took her hand, tugging her around to the back of the cart.

  “No, I don’t suppose you ever would, either. Anyway, these are for you, mon amour. For the school anyway. Not a very romantic gift.” His face fell, and he was suddenly awkward. “I suppose I ought to at least have brought you flowers.”

  “Oh, Nic, stop being idiotic. What is it?” Eliza said, fidgeting with impatience to know what was under the canvas cover.

  “Oh, well, you’d best see what you think,” he said, undoing the ropes that held it down. “It’s not very exciting, but I was passing this old church. They’re knocking it down to build a new one, and these were all piled up on the street. I thought they’d come in handy.”

  He tugged the cover back to reveal a stack of church pews.

  Eliza gave a squeal of excitement. “Oh, Nic, they’re perfect!”

  Furniture for the school was one of her biggest headaches and greatest expenses in the short term. This was quite literally a godsend.

  “Well, I don’t know about that,” Nic said doubtfully. “They’ll need a good clean and polish. There are a couple of tables and six chairs at the back there too and… ooof!”

  Eliza couldn’t stand any more. She flung her arms about his neck and kissed him and this time he didn’t let her go, but pulled her to him and kissed her in return.

  “Damn, Eliza,” he growled, his eyes growing dark as he looked down at her. “If you’d let me, I’d buy you every single thing you need, not second hand benches. Anyone would think I’d brought you diamonds, you mad creature.”

  “As good as diamonds,” she said breathlessly. “I love you.”

  He stared at her and swallowed.

  “Eliza,” he said, sounding a little breathless. “Bloody hell.”

  He took her hand and looked around them before dragging her to one of the side doors that led to the storage rooms close to the kitchen. It was on the north side of the building and chilly within, but Eliza didn’t care. There was heat enough to be found once the door was closed and she was in his arms.

  “Just for a moment,” he warned her, though she suspected he was telling himself as much as her.

  “Yes, Nic,” she said meekly, knowing she would keep him here as long as she could manage.

  “Oh hell, I’ll run mad if I can’t kiss you. Come here.”

  She didn’t need telling twice. Her skirts swished and rustled as she pressed close to him, his hands closing about her waist. Eliza slid her hands beneath his coat, wishing there were not so many layers between them. She remembered the heat and silk of his skin the night she had spent in his bed and longed to be with him like that again, and not only to listen to him sleeping.

  He kissed her, slow and deep, and let out a long sigh when he finally pulled back, as though some great weight had been lifted from him.

  “I needed that,” he admitted, smiling down at her. “Mon Dieu, but you are lovely.”

  She smiled as he gazed at her, stroking her cheek tenderly.

  “Are you well, though? You are not doing too much? I finally have a reply from the doctor. He’ll be here as soon as he can cross the Channel to check on you.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, deciding she would not tell him that she had fainted last night.

  Only her sister, Victoria, had been there, and she’d sworn her to secrecy. It drove Eliza mad to see everyone fretting and worrying about her.

  “No more headaches?” he asked, looking at her so sternly she did not feel she could lie to him.

  “Yes, occasionally, but nothing very bad. Not like before.”

  He looked so anxious at this, she could only wish she’d not told him. “I’m quite well, Nic. Truly. Everyone gets headaches.”

  “Perhaps you ought to go home,” he said. “Your parents’ dinner is tonight and—”

  “No.” Eliza stopped herself from rolling her eyes at him, but only just. “I’m fine. I am not going home, but… you can keep me down here as long as you want to if you are determined to stop me from working.”

  She leaned into him and put her head on his chest, and he held her close.

  “I can hear your heart beating,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

  “It only does that for you,” he said gruffly, a rumble of amusement in the words.

  “You’re going to drive me mad fussing over me when we’re married, aren’t you?”

  There was the briefest hesitation and Eliza looked up at him. She sighed, speaking again before he could answer. “You still think I will come to my senses and change my mind.”

  He avoided her eyes but shrugged. “Perhaps, but yes, to answer your question. I will always worry for you.”

  Eliza shook her head before resting it back on his chest again. She traced the pattern on his waistcoat with a fingertip. “You’ll be wretched when we have children, then.”

  She was fairly certain she heard his heart skip a beat.

  “Christ, Eliza, don’t….”

  “But I want children. Lots of them. Little boys, like their father… with dark eyes, dark as a sloe berry, and hair black as coal.”

  “No,” he said roughly. “Little girls, with gre
en eyes that can bespell a man with one glance. I’ll be as wrapped about their thumb as I am about yours.”

  “Are you, Nic?” she asked.

  “Foolish girl,” he murmured. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  He ducked his head and kissed her again.

  “I want to get married now,” she said with a moan as he broke away.

  He made a sound of frustration and released his hold on her.

  Stubbornly, Eliza clung to him. “No. Don’t go.”

  “Be good, then,” he grumbled.

  “Very well.” She did not want to agree, and he must have heard the reluctance in her voice, but anything to keep him here a little longer. “You’d best distract me, though, if you want me to behave. Tell me about yourself, about you and your brother, and your life.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Anything. Everything. What about your father?”

  Nic was silent for a while and she knew he was deciding what to say, or if he ought to say anything.

  “Our father was not a good man. Before the revolution, he was wealthy and powerful, and he used his power selfishly and without a qualm. He was a staunch royalist and made many enemies. When la terreur got too close to home, he ran, and he hid. There were too many people who would have been more than happy to remove his head from his shoulders. From then on, he lived in hiding, taking false names, and keeping his head down. He was a handsome devil, though, and charming when he wanted to be, and he talked his way into places, making people feel sorry for him and keep him safe. But it could not last.”

  “What happened?”

  Nic shrugged. “He had a foul temper, and eventually he fell out with everyone. He drank and gambled too much, and his finances dwindled. He abandoned his wife—Louis’s mother—when Louis was born. Living in hiding as a lone nobleman was one thing, when he could appear to be a romantic figure. With a sickly wife and squalling baby in tow, it became a little too real for him.”

  Eliza stared at him, appalled.

  “Are you sure you want to hear this?”