“Mrs. Miranda is a dear friend of mine. You dare question her character?”
Daisy would not let the insult stand. “She sent me away at dusk with her lady’s maid who then robbed me of the little coin I had and put me on a mail coach to London. Is that the character you speak of?”
Lady Claystone stepped back as if shocked Daisy could speak at all. “While inadvisable, I must respect she was protecting her own daughter from association with scandal and excuse the error in judgment. As should you.”
“Miss Blakewood is hardly at fault for the perceived scandal of our marriage,” Amelia said. “Anyone who would punish her and put her safety at risk is not a person who can be trusted. You arranged the traveling party for Miss Blakewood, is that correct?”
Lady Claystone pressed her lips together in a thin line and did not answer.
“She did,” Graham said. “My mother will determine what actions will be taken next for Daisy once our parents return to London. We must return to the house now. Good day, Lady Claystone.”
She dipped her chin in recognition, but her gaze was pinned to Daisy. “Is that what you wish? Do you not see the benefits of removing yourself from Alston House? Cliffton cannot visit you there when he returns.”
Daisy stood frozen as fear clutched her heart in a vice. If Cliffton was coming home, did that mean that she would have to marry him soon?
“I will stay with my brother and wait for my parents to return,” Daisy said.
Lady Claystone’s lips turned pale as she forced a smile. “Very well. I will speak to your parents upon their return, and we will come to a decision about your future. I look forward to it. Good day, Lady Amelia, Mr. Blakewood, Miss Blakewood.” She turned away, walking slowly under the parasol her maid held over her.
Daisy put her hand on Graham’s sleeve, and he patted her hand.
“Why did that sound like a threat?” Amelia said once Lady Claystone was far enough away not to hear.
“Because it was,” her brother said. He looked down at Daisy in concern. “Are you all right? You’re pale.”
Daisy couldn’t feel the warmth of the sun on her cheeks any longer. She was cold inside and out. She’d spoken up for herself, but that would only infuriate Lady Claystone and make matters worse. She was running out of time. Once her parents returned, she’d have to leave Alston House, and she’d lose her friendship with Alston.
Her brother turned them away and they began their walk back. “I hope we will hear from mother and father again soon.”
“What the devil is wrong with that woman?” Amelia asked as they passed the gate.
“She’s a woman of strict values,” Graham said. “I haven’t had to spend as much time in her company as Daisy has, but it has been plenty. I don’t know how you tolerate her.”
“You poor thing,” Amelia looked past Graham’s broad chest to her. “We must put an end to this engagement. I won’t allow it. She reminds me too much of Aunt Ruth.”
Graham cast Daisy a quick glance.
What could Daisy say? She didn’t have a choice, did she? Lady Claystone wanted Daisy to marry Lord Cliffton to—as she’d put it before—correct her mother’s mistake.Daisy didn’t want to disappoint her mother. For too long Daisy had pretended shewanted to marry Cliffton. Now... she’d rather lose a limb than wed him.
Daisy had never revealed to her brother or to her parents how truly miserable she’d become. There was once a time when Daisy dreamed of having a marriage with Cliffton that grew into a love like her parents’. She was no more than fifteen at the time. For a long time, Daisy had hoped that their eventual marriage would somehow lessen Lady Claystone’s influence in her life. But she knew better now. She was no longer that hopeful and naïve girl. Cliffton did not care about Daisy at all, and Lady Claystone would control every aspect of Daisy life until her last breath, and even then, she might haunt Daisy.
Chapter Twenty
Sam knew Daisyhad gone for a walk, but when she didn’t come back to him after returning, he sent a note begging for her—yes, begging for her—to come sit with him.
Sam sat back against his pillows and folded his arms. He needed Daisy. She was the only thing that soothed his muddled, agitated brain while he rotted in this bed. She was integral to him now, and he couldn’t help feeling that maybe this friendship between them had become too intense, but that didn’t mean he wanted it to end.
He was older than her. Not much in years, but in knowledge and life experience. Yet he wanted to hear her thoughts and opinions, limited though they were to her experiences as a young, unwed woman. Like Blakewood, she had a charmed view of life that was honest and refreshing. When Daisy was present, he forgot about his nightmares, his pain, and his anger. She was the spring to his winter. He needed her in his dark and dreary room to chase away the shadows and the specter of his mysterious bride.
There was a knock on his door and Miss Smith went to open it. She knew when he was in a foul mood and pretendedto be invisible unless he spoke to her. More and more she was escaping to the kitchens to avoid him.
Miss Smith held the door and Daisy strolled in, head down, hands laced together in her lap like she was expecting a lecture.
“Miss Smith, tea and cake, please.” Miss Smith nodded and departed as Daisy came to stand at the foot of the bed.
“Well, out with it. What did you do?”
She looked up in confusion, her eyes red. “What do you mean?”
