“Don’t bother with me. Truly, I’m still just upset about the letter. It seems Mrs. Dove-Lyon is your Lady Claystone, and it’s... it’s not fair that these people have so much power over us.”
Sam released a sigh. “I know.”
“Even my brother was—not frightened, but wary of her. I’ve never seen him look like that. How can anyone have so much power? What gives her the right to play with other people’s lives?”
Sam leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know what to tell you. I wish I had an answer.”
“I just want to have a choice,” she fisted her hands and brought them down on the table with a thump. He’d never seen her angry before. “I want a season, but my mother put it off because Lady Claystone assured her that another year would give me time to...”
She pressed her eyes closed, her obvious frustration a punch to his heart. His arms ached to hold her, but he was too weak to reach for her.
“I know exactly how you feel. I didn’t realize how much freedom I’d enjoyed until it was taken away from me.”
She looked up at him.
“It burns me right here,” he touched his chest.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daisy couldn’t pullher eyes away from Alston even if she wanted to. She could still feel the ghost of his lips on her cheek and his warm breath on her neck. The simple caress hours ago had left her aching with a longing she’d never felt before.
Sitting at the table while they’d talked, she couldn’t help but feel there were things being discussed around and over her but not revealed to her, and it was infuriating. Mrs. Dove-Lyon was intimidating, but also fascinating. Daisy could imagine how exciting the story of her life must be. And now she ran a gambling den and had the kind of power that men feared. In comparison, Daisy felt small, like a child.
And if even someone like Alston, an earl, a respected, wealthy peer of the realm could lose his agency, what hope did she have?
What was it like to be brave? Amelia and Graham had been brave and done something incredible for Alston. It had come with a price, but they’d done it anyway, for their own happiness and for Alston’s life. Why couldn’t she? Why must she be at mercy of Lady Claystone? Why must she wait for her life to happen to her, for permission to exist in the manner she wanted to? Or rather, in the manner she didn’t want to. Her fate hadbeen decided long ago. Not by her, but by her parents, as was often done.
But Daisy was tired of waiting, and she was tired of living by the rules the countess had written for her. She wanted to decide for herself what she wanted, and the very first thought she had was... she wouldn’t be marrying Cliffton. Not now, not ever.
The decision enveloped her in a flurry of anxious energy, her stomach turning with nausea, her skin prickling with chills and a cold sweat beading on the back of her neck. The room tilted, ever so slightly. Thankfully, Daisy was still sitting.
Her heart pounded like she’d been sprinting across the lawn.
“Are you well?” Alston asked. “You’re flushed.” He slid his hand over the table to touch hers.
“I just... I want something to be mine. I’m not happy. Is that odd? I live a comfortable life, I want for nothing, and yet I’m not happy.”
He tilted his head as he studied her. “Wants and needs are different things. Your needs are met, but are your wants? We must all do things that feed our souls as well as our bodies.” He looked away, frowning at the fire.
“That is quite philosophical,” Daisy murmured.
Alston smirked. “I studied philosophy at school.”
He shifted his body toward her and Daisy bit her lip. What did he want? His health and strength, of course. Those things were going to come, yet he still seemed so despondent. There was something else hanging over him, just like her betrothal hung over her.
“What doyouwant?” she asked. His gaze felt like a touch, like an invisible hand that stroked her check, holding her focus on him.
“I can’t have what I want,” he said. His hand tightened around hers.
Daisy searched his gaze. “Why? What is it?” What could possibly stand in his way? She couldn’t imagine an obstacle Alston couldn’t overcome. He’d already beaten death.
He leaned toward her, gazing down at her in a way that stole her breath.
“What do you think it is?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. You’ll soon be back to health. I don’t think anything could stop you from getting whatever you want.”
“It would appear like that on the outside, but I haven’t been able to make my own choices lately either. In fact, they have been taken from me, my future decided.”
