He swallowed, “Are you feeling all right? Shall we ring for tea?” He glanced at his mother who had yet to come into the drawing room and was lingering in the hall.
“Why didn’t you write to me?” Daisy had to know. Why, in all this time, couldn’t he have been bothered to make even the barest of efforts? He had intended to marry her, ruin her life, humiliate and steal from her, but he couldn’t take the time to evenpretendhe liked her?
“Well, you see, my penmanship is terrible, and the post is unreliable.”
“The post is perfectly acceptable.”
“I’m not good at writing letters.”
“So, you didn’t bother at all? I didn’t warrant a single sentence?”
“Miss Blakewood!” His mother finally entered, wearing the widest, most severely strained smile Daisy had ever seen. Daisy hugged the book tighter as if the countess might rip it from her hands. As usual, she wore severe white and black, this time herdress mostly white with wide black lapels for decoration and large black buttons.
“How punctual you are. Our Richard returned early this morning and could not wait to see you. The feeling must have been mutual to bring you here so swiftly. Is that my diary? How on earth did you find it?”
Her eyes danced with panic. It was terrifying to see. Daisy stood and handed it to her and her shoulders slumped.
“A friend recovered it.”
She clutched it with white knuckles. “Brilliant! We had a thief in the house last night. He nearly burned my bedroom down, you should know. I cannot sleep in there and my dresses are ruined. Claystone let me use his rooms and went to his club. I am so thankful you brought it right back to me or rather—”
“I’m surprised you claimed it,” Daisy interrupted with a laugh. “A smarter woman wouldn’t have.”
Lady Claystone shook her head, and the tight white curls on her head wiggled. “Tea? Shall I ring for tea?”
“I won’t be staying long.” Daisy’s heart might punch though her chest, but she was going to do this even if it was the last thing she ever did. She would not let these people bleed her of her fortune, her heart, her kindness. She would not be trampled under Lady Claystone’s heel.
“I wish to end the engagement.” Daisy said, inwardly wincing. Wish? She didn’t wish. She demanded. “I demand that it cease this very moment.”
Cliffton’s mouth fell open.
Lady Claystone scoffed. “You can’t be serious. Cliffton has returned. Preparations can begin at last!”
“Oh, but I am. I will not be party tobigamy.”
Cliffton choked.
Lady Claystone’s face turned as white as her gown.
“Oh, yes. I read your diary. I know all about Lady Cliffton and her young son. Congratulations, Cliffton, on the birth of your heir. I wish you eternal health.” Bile rose in her throat. “Copies of that passage were made specifically as insurance for me. If you want this information to remainprivate, which I think you should, you’ll promptly end this sham of a betrothal, and never—and I meannever—speak to me or my parents again.”
Her heart raced so fast it felt like it was vibrating in her chest.
“Miss—Daisy.” Cliffton strode forward, attempting to grab her hand. “Nothing could be further from the truth.”
“Do not lie to me. There isn’t anything you can do or say that would convince me to marry you. You have a wife and a child. Why on earth did you think you could get away with this?”
His face turned red.
“Why didn’t you just break the engagement yourself if you wanted to marry someone else!”
“Because she isn’t suitable,” Lady Claystone screeched. “She’s a pauper. A farmer’s daughter. She isn’t fit to be the Countess of Claystone. The fool married her forlove,” she spat.
Daisy turned to her. “But legally, she is his wife. What did you think would happen when he married me? You’d simply scratch out her name off the register and add mine?”
Lady Claystone barked out a laugh. “You silly chit. No one would have realized. Not once we’d paid the registrar a handsome sum to destroy the records and paid that doxy to keep her mouth closed, if not her legs!”
Daisy felt her words like a slap. She couldn’t believe Lady Claystone, who spouted verse after verse about decorum and virtue, would concoct such a vile plan.
