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“The what?”

“My Egyptian mummy gown. It’s so very white. The whitest white gown I have.”

“You needn’t wear white! Princess Charlotte’s gown was a lovely cream silk with metallic lace.”

“Miles made some ill-advised comments about strumpets disguising themselves in white. I have to live up to his expectations of a hussy.”

“But you are a maiden!” her mother cried.

Daisy grinned. “Not for long.”

“Daisy!”

EPISODE ONE HUNDRED AND SIX

ONCE DECLARED MAN AND WIFE …

A few months ago, just after the archbishop declared Major FitzRoy and Livie “man and wife,” Livie’s new husband had caught up his wife at the altar and given her an utterly delightful, utterly scandalous kiss.

Daisy had mopped up tears at the sheer romance of watching Livie’s silk gown billowing in the air due to the tightness of her new husband’s embrace. Even her mother had grown dewy-eyed.

Her wedding was clearly not going to inspire any romantic tears.

For one thing, Daisy’s fiancé was nowhere to be seen, though the ceremony had been due to begin some twenty minutes ago.

“The bride is supposed to be late, not the groom,” Regina hissed on her way to greet a newly arrived guest. “Do you suppose he’s run off to the colonies?”

Daisy managed a weak smile. She believed in Miles. Counted on him. Surely he would arrive. From the corner of her eye, she could see guests whispering to each other.

As the minutes ticked by, she felt as if little fault lines were forming in her heart. The ducal chapel echoed with chattering voices, but they seemed to come from a distance. With nothing else to do, Daisy kept smiling, her heartbeat fluctuating every time the door opened.

“Are you sure about this?” Frederick asked, drifting up to her. “My offer’s still open. I don’t have as much money, but despite my hangover, I got here on time. I’d be proud to walk the aisle with you, even given that dress. You couldn’t find another rag to throw on?”

“I look regal,” Daisy told him, unoffended.

“I’d say divine,” Frederick said. He gave her a crooked smile. “As well as very pretty and approachable. You make me wish that I’d done better at courting you, Daisy. Convinced you to do a rash deed and marry me.”

She patted his chest, thinking what a good friend he was. “I’m in love with Miles, but if I wasn’t, I would be very happy to marry you.” She patted him again. “Are you carrying a flask inside your coat?”

“An armored plate over my heart,” Frederick said. “Would you like a swig to fortify you before taking to the altar and making imprudent promises? I find that a pleasant haze makes agreeing to irrational demands more palatable.”

“I take it fidelity is irrational?” Daisy asked.

“Fidelity would be easy,” Frederick said, rather surprisingly for someone infamous for sleeping with married women. “It’s the ‘til death do us part’ business that I find alarming. My valets always run off to greener pastures sooner or later, so I’d be unsurprised if my wife did the same.”

“Where is Lord Devin?” Daisy’s mother hissed, sweeping past them to welcome Lady Castlereigh with outstretched hands. “An informal occasion, my lady, since the children are so desperately in love!”

Frederick glanced around. “Devin lives next door, doesn’t he? He can’t blame a broken wheel or the traffic around Charing Cross.”

Regina was greeting Viscount Peregrine and his wife, who had just entered the chapel.

“Peregrine was one of Regina’s fiancés,” Frederick said idly. “My brother was another, and your fiancé is a third. I’ve forgotten someone … Ah yes, the Earl of Winchester.”

Daisy was starting to feel sick with anxiety. Surely Miles wouldn’t stand her up at the altar. But perhaps he had found out the truth … Her mother’s gloom-filled predictions crowded into her mind.

“Miles was never betrothed to Regina,” she said, trying to focus on the conversation.

“I’ll fetch your groom,” Frederick said with sudden energy. “Best man’s duty. Drag the poor sod to the altar.” He blinked. “Not that he’s a poor sod for marrying you. Luckiest man in London.”