“I need to talk to her,” he said decisively, tearing his gaze away from Daisy’s and staring up at the ceiling. “I’ve been hiding down here like a coward ever since I arrived.”
Daisy made a soft sound of dismay and wrapped her hand around his. “You’re not a coward,” she said emphatically. “You’re the farthest thing from it.”
Her words warmed him somewhat, but he shrugged it away. “Thank you for saying so, but I really must find out what happened. I can’t just lay here and wonder any longer.”
She squeezed his hand tightly. “Let me talk to her,” she said softly. “I’ll ask her what happened and then I’ll come back tomorrow and tell you.”
He glanced back at her, surprised by the sincerity in her eyes. “Why would you do that for me? You have no stake in this.” But then he remembered once again that she’d once told him she loved him. The words had made him very uncomfortable at the time, the childish declaration of a little girl. Now, however, she seemed anything but a child. She seemed a woman who knew her own mind. She’d be what... twenty now?
Her cheeks flooded with color, and she lowered his gaze, seeming suddenly to be very interested in the coverlet. “We were friends once, Flynn. Don’t you remember?”
“Of course,” he said, feeling like an utter heel. If she really did have feelings for him, he’d been horribly cruel and dismissive to her. In fact, he’d treated her much the same way Violet seemed to have treated him. “But you still don’t have to do this.”
“I want to,” she said simply. She pushed to her feet and gestured to the cup of tea. “Drink as much of this as you can. It won’t taste very good, but it will help your pain, I promise.”
“Thank you,” he said, trying for a smile.
“Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?”
He shook his head. “No, you’ve been very kind. I really appreciate your help.”
She flushed even more but gave him a brilliant smile. “I’ll be back in the morning. Try to get some rest.”
Then she disappeared in a swirl of skirts, and he was left with his rioting thoughts once again.
Chapter Four
Daisy fled the dowerhouse, tears streaming down her face. She ran until they blinded her, then sank down on a bench in the vast garden, hidden from view by the branches of an ancient weeping willow.
What have I done?
When she’d first entered the cottage, she’d had every intention of telling Flynn that it was she who’d written to him. She’d planned to explain what had happened, then beg his forgiveness.
However, the moment she’d set eyes upon him, all the insecurity and doubt of the past had reared its ugly head, and she’d once again felt like a child, someone so far beneath his notice that it had become impossible to tell him the truth. She saw now what a horrible betrayal it had been to pretend to be her sister for so long. When she told him the truth, she would lose him forever.
In retrospect, she had no idea why she simply hadn’t allowed his letter to Violet to stay in the trash. He’d have written her a few times, realized that his feelings were not returned, and moved on. Perhaps she could even have started writing him as herself at that point. Then their relationship could still have grown in much the way that it had, only with a foundation of honesty instead of deceit.
