“Very well,” he said, nodding. “I’ll rest today, but as soon as I feel well enough, I need to look into all of this. And until then, I refuse to be a burden. If I’m to remain, I will do all that I can to be useful.” He let out a short laugh. “I suppose Alastair is as good a name as any. At least you didn’t call me Cornelius, Obadiah, or some other god-awful name.”
But Daisy didn’t laugh.
“You wish for me to call you… Alastair?”
“It’s what you told Mrs. Farley, so I think I am stuck with it,” he said.
She winced. “True.”
What had she been thinking when she’d used that name? Had she been thinking at all? Her mouth had simply run ahead of her mind, latching onto the first thing that had felt right—even if it wasn’t. Now, he was right. They were both stuck with it.
Having to call him Alastair was going to be… painful. The wound of her past had long since scarred over, but this man—this stranger with no name—was pressing against it.
“And your brother? Will this be a problem for him?”
Daisy shook her head. “Gilbert knows the truth, but he also knows the dangers of gossip and will understand the reasons for the deception. He’s not quite ten, but is unusually mature for his age.”
Too mature.
She and Gilbert had been lucky—lucky to have a home, lucky to have food on the table, lucky to have each other. But luck wasn’t something Daisy trusted.
No matter how carefully she planned, no matter how hardshe worked, the fear of losing it all never left her. She knew what it was to lose everything. And she would do anything to keep her little brother from ever knowing that kind of devastation.
Which was why she couldn’t afford to let a single whisper of scandal taint her reputation.
Why she had to do whatever it took to keep her customers.
Protecting Gilbert, providing for him… It was her greatest purpose.
And nothing—not even a nameless man with green eyes and a too-familiar face—would get in the way of that.
“Now,” Daisy said briskly and brushed her hands together, “It’s time for you to rest.” But when she walked across the room, intent upon steering him back into the pantry, he didn’t move.
When she grasped his arm, he simply stared down at her. “You’re terribly bossy, you know.”
Was he teasing her?
Feeling his arm, warm and firm beneath her hand, awareness thrummed through her.
Shelikedtouching him.
She likedhim. She didn’t even know his real name, but she liked him—not just as a friend, but in the way a woman likes an attractive man.
Was keeping him here a mistake?
“Just efficient,” she finally answered. “And I’ll take it as a compliment.”
He laughed. “I’m sure I can come up with a better compliment than that.”
His gaze skimmed over her face, and she felt a warm blush on her cheeks as she looked away.
It was almost as though they were flirting.
But that was ridiculous.
CLOTHING THAT MAKES A GENTLEMAN
Daisy had plenty of time to prepare answers for Gilbert’s inevitable questions while he was at school, and sure enough, he barely set his books down before launching right in.
