He had loved her. And she had loved him. And for a time, he had believed that was all that mattered.
“I was reckless.” His voice held a heavy note of regret.
“Yes, but…” Daisy turned to look up at him, searching his face. “I want—I need you to know that I wouldn’t change any of it.”
She had asked herself the question countless times—consideredwhether she would erase the past, if given the chance. And the answer was always the same.
The great love she had known had ended in great pain.
But what was life without seasoning?
His smile, when it came, was faint. “I will be grateful for that, then.”
They reached the park, and Daisy drew in a steadying breath, shaking off the wistful haze that had settled between them.
Because they were on a mission.
And neither of them could afford to be distracted.
“Lovington House is just ahead,” she said, lifting her chin. “On the right. We’ll have a clear view from the clearing if we go this way.”
The hour was too early for the elite of Mayfair to be venturing into the park yet.
“You walk here often?” He kept her hand securely tucked in the crook of his arm.
“I deliver my soaps personally—to my clients’ back doors, of course.”
“This is where you disappear to every morning,” he said.
“Usually,” Daisy said. “On the days I’m not delivering to other shops.”
“They are lucky.”
“Oh, indeed.” She chuckled and slid him a teasing glance.
“And so very modest.” He laughed with her, but then his expression softened. “But you should be proud, Daisy. You’ve built something remarkable. You parlayed your gift, your skills, into something not only profitable, but also… special.”
This was Alastair. Encouraging. Supportive. Always believing in her.
As they neared his rather grand townhouse, Daisy leaned in slightly. “And you do remarkable things as well.”
He let out a quiet breath. “But do I?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Alastair exhaled a long sigh.
“You always did admire Locke,” she mused. “Even when we were young, you spoke about people having the potential to rise above their circumstances.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re fighting to expand the reform bill.”
His brows lifted slightly, as though the realization struck him as well. “But how could I vote otherwise, in good conscience?”
“The one thing money doesn’t buy.”
Alastair shot her a questioning glance.
“A conscience,” she murmured.
They reached the edge of the park, and Daisy stilled. Alastair, who was chuckling at her irony, followed suit.
