“She loved to make others happy. She lived to please her parents, her husband, her friends. But she never asked foranything in return. She gave and gave, until she ran dry. She couldn’t please them anymore.”
Daisy bit her lip. “What happened to her?”
“She only gave happiness to others and never to herself. What do you think happened?”
“I . . . I’m not sure.”
“She suffered, Daisy. A great deal. She never had a voice. Neverusedher voice. She became lost, a shell of the vibrant woman she used to be.”
Daisy’s stomach turned. “Why do I remind you of her, exactly?” She saw the curve of a smile through the black lace.
“I’ve been hearing quite a bit of talk, you know. About your future mother-in-law, Lady Claystone. Her son has returned to London, though it is supposed to remain quiet.”
Daisy jerked in surprise. “Why? I’m supposed to meet with them today, but Sam told me not to go.”
“Indeed, but avoiding catastrophe won’t prevent it, will it? I feel obligated to tell you that this family is deeply in debt. You are supposed to be their savior—your dowry, the connection to your father’s vast fortune and land, the infusion of wealth they need to keep up their façade of superiority. But their time has run out, and Lady Claystone is aware her reign has come to an end.”
“Is there a reason you’re so cryptic? If you know something, tell me.”
“Ah, there’s a bit of spine. I was wondering if it existed at all.”
Daisy fisted her hands in her lap. “You won’t give me the answer, will you? This is madness. What do you want from me? What do I have to do for you?”
“You need to tell the truth.”
Daisy scoffed. “I have not lied about anything.”
“Not you. Lady Claystone and her son. And now you need to tell them the truth.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon opened the drawer andbrought out a red, leather-bound journal. “Take this to her. In exchange for its return, you will demand, not meek and dulcet like you were before, but with power, Daisy, to be released from your betrothal or you will ruin them. Lady Claystone had every intention of using you to fill her coffers no matter the cost to you.”
Daisy’s mouth dropped open. “What did they do?”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon opened the book to a page and turned it toward her. “Read for yourself.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Daisy was tooenraged to speak when she stepped out of the private parlor, clutching the book to her chest. Amelia was waiting, speaking to Mr. Chase. He took one glance at the book before meeting her eyes.
“Would you like an escort?” he asked, “Since Lord Alston is not here?”
Daisy shook her head. Nothing would stop her from meeting Cliffton now. Today was his reckoning. She’d waited years for him to see her, to want her. Now she would bring him to his knees and leave him begging for her forgiveness.
“What is the matter, Daisy?” Amelia asked with concern.
“I need to visit Lady Claystone. Right now.” Before her courage faltered, before this fiery anger inside her wilted for even one moment.
“Sam said not to let you go, no matter what you said. He was afraid you’d feel guilty—”
Daisy whirled toward her. “This isn’t about Sam. This is about me and Cliffton, about how his mother strung me along, a lamb being fattened for slaughter. They have schemed and lied, and now they will look me in the eye and confess or I will destroy everything they hold dear.”
Amelia nodded. “Absolutely. Let’s go.”
Mr. Chase blocked them. “You look ready to murder someone. I think I should come.”
“That’s an astute assessment, Mr. Chase, but this is something I have to do on my own,” Daisy said.
“I will insist. You have neither Alston nor Blakewood here to offer protection. Please, let me at least ride with you to your destination. Just in case there is anything I can do for you.”
Daisy’s jaw locked. Her tears burned like they were boiling in her eyes.
