Chapter Eight
After leaving Flynnto sleep, Daisy spent the next few hours strolling the Darlington House gardens, her mind warring with her heart. As the sun fell low in the sky, she thought about all they’d talked about earlier, the plans they’d made to go over her sketches and the talk of working together here in this beautiful place. She wanted that so badly she could barely breathe. But unless she was honest with him, that could never happen.
She had to tell him about the letters. She’d waited far too long. Why hadn’t she done it that very first day? He might have been a little angry, but perhaps he would have understood. Perhaps he would have been happy to find out that it had been her since he’d found out that Violet was no longer available.
Instead, she’d continued to lie to him, even when she could see how much he was hurting, simply because she didn’t want to own up to her mistakes and risk losing him.
She knew it was foolish to believe that there was still a chance for them. He still loved Violet. But perhaps they could become friends again. Perhaps she could find a way to make him care for her enough that when she told him the truth, he would understand...
She came to an abrupt stop near the cottage when she saw Violet walking jauntily back toward the manor. Her sister seemed very pleased with herself, and Daisy knew that never led to anything good. Was it possible that Violet was still interested in Flynn despite her marriage? Had she been leading him on yet again?
Squaring her shoulders, she forced herself to move forward. It didn’t matter what Violet did. Flynn would never betray his brother. She was sure of it.
She had an opportunity here. A chance to make things right. She’d be a fool not to take it.
The thoughts she’d just been having to wait a little longer slipped away. She couldn’t do this anymore. She had to tell him. Now, before it was too late.
When she entered the cottage, she was happy to see that no maid was on duty. Good. Though she did not want to damage her reputation by being here unchaperoned, she also didn’t want to have an audience for her visit with Flynn. What she had to say to him definitely required privacy.
Knocking lightly on the half-open door, she entered his room, but when he looked up at her, the expression of betrayal and anger on his face stopped her in her tracks. “Flynn,” she breathed, an avalanche of unease crashing into the pit of her stomach. “What’s wrong?”
He flinched a bit at the sound of her voice, then gave a soft, incredulous laugh. “You,” he said, holding out a handful of the letters she now saw were scattered all over his bed. “You’re what’s wrong, Daisy.”
She stepped closer and saw with horror that she recognized that expensive cream paper. She’d bought it with her pin money and it had cost a fortune. She’d wanted to seem older, more sophisticated, because she’d been only fifteen at the time. From the very first letter, she’d used only that special stationery, slowly depleting the hundreds of sheets she’d purchased.
He knew. He knew everything. No wonder Violet had seemed so pleased with herself.
“Flynn,” she whispered. “Please, let me explain...”
“I don’t need to hear your explanations,” he said angrily. “I know exactly what happened. Violet told me.”
“Violet doesn’t know anything!” she cried. “If it had been left to her, you’d have been all alone. You never would have gotten a single letter from her. She cared for you so little that she threw your letters away!”
“I would rather have had no letters at all than a hundred that were all a lie,” he shouted back, his control slipping. “For God’s sake, Daisy! I fell in love with her.”
“No.” She shook her head and stepped closer, willing him to see, putting her entire heart on her sleeve. “You fell in love withme, Flynn. It was always me.”
