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“The night the back of your gown fell to the floor. You were fearless while many women would have gibbered in terror and embarrassment. Yes, I desired you. But I was also so proud of you. Proud to even know you. I would have told you the next day, but your mother made it clear that I should stay away from you. Frankly, I felt the same about your escapade in the Tower.”

Daisy felt behind her for the latch. “Nonsense. You’ve repeatedly chastised me for that. Repeatedly!”

“I felt proud,” he said flatly. “Angry because you might have got into trouble by foxing the guards at the Tower of London, but also awed. You managed to smuggle in a file, which hadn’t been done since the 1500s.”

“But you said—”

“I didn’t want to feel that way. Why should I be proud of a girl who makes me ache with desire at the mere sight of her lips? Who laughs at me and pokes fun and prefers to spend her time with Frederick? Who not only didn’t faint after her gown fell apart, but looked at me with aching desire in her eyes?”

“Pride implies ownership,” Daisy observed. “You were not my suitor nor even my friend.”

“I was the man who was falling in love with you. One of many.”

Her mouth fell open, gracelessly. She couldn’t force out a word.

Miles walked toward her slowly. “I am in love with you, Daisy. I considered you mine long before your dress fell off, though I didn’t allow myself to acknowledge the fact. You described yourself walking to my house like a homing pigeon? I saw you at that damned masquerade and went to you like the homing pigeon’s mate.”

Daisy’s heart felt as if it was beating in her mouth. “But you were trying to … to find a woman at Rothingale’s house.”

He shook his head. “No. I was about to leave when I caught sight of your hair.”

“Because you wanted to buy me,” Daisy pointed out. She didn’t try to suppress the jaundiced edge in her voice.

Surprisingly, he smiled. “I don’t suppose you respect my decision to accept Rothingale’s invitation? He did warn me, earlier in the day, that the attendees would be high-flyers. Strumpets,” he clarified.

“No, I do not respect that decision,” she said, fuming. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I attended that vulgar event due to a misunderstanding, but you went there looking to hire a woman for the night. Who could possibly respect that?”

His hand curled around her cheek. “We won’t respect every decision our spouse has made or will make, darling. We’ll just have to apologize for our mistakes. I promise I will never attend anything like that masquerade again. I will never again consider sleeping with a woman other than my wife. I chastised you for fibbing, as if I hadn’t done far worse. I deserve your disdain.”

“I stole your ability to marry another woman,” Daisy pointed out.

He laughed. “Do you know how close Cropley, that idiot suitor of yours, came to being cut into small pieces for having the presumption to kiss you?”

She blinked. “Really?”

“You think I’m civilized? I’m not. You left my bed, and I found you an hour later sleeping next to another man. If Frederick wasn’t who he is, I would have wrenched him out of your embrace and killed him. I’ve always prided myself on civility, so it’s been a terrific shock to discover my barbaric instincts. It turns out that I’m ruthless, ungentlemanly, and thoroughly uncivilized. If you ever curl up next to Frederick again, I’ll slay him.”

“You wouldn’t. He’s your friend. Your best man!”

“Dead,” Miles said with conviction. “He wants to steal the most important person in my life. He would give anything to marry you.”

Daisy stared at him. Miles’s voice was always deep, but now it had lowered to a masculine growl that his acquaintances in the House of Lords wouldn’t have recognized. His elegant features had taken on a ruggedness that eclipsed the composure he generally displayed to the world.

A disconcerting flicker of heat made itself known in her belly.

“You told me that you were rarely homicidal,” she pointed out.

“It’s true … except where you’re concerned. That said, I can control myself. I didn’t kill your father, though I was tempted.”

“My father.” Daisy drew in a sharp breath. “What happened with my father? I refuse to give Belle up, no matter what either of you say.”

“I promised to pay off his debts. He will stay out of brothels from now on. After his many-times-removed cousin dies in India, he will relinquish guardianship of Belle to us.”

“If I move to Belgium, no one will ever guess that she’s not my daughter,” Daisy said, feeling as if she were grasping at a straw to try to stay above water.

His eyes narrowed. “Belle is my daughter too.”

“Nonsense,” she said, tossing her head. More curls promptly fell down her back.