"Must be your lucky day," I quipped before Daisy enveloped me in one of her signature tight bear hugs.
"I've missed you!" she exclaimed. "I know you love Chiswick, but it feels as though you're never in London anymore."
"We've spent more time in the country recently," I conceded. "The older Alice becomes, the harder it is to try to shuffle between two home bases. She'll begin preschool after the new year, and then it'll be even more complicated."
"As much as I adore my niece—and you know I do—I must point out that you have a wonderful nanny. There's nothing to stopyoufrom coming into town to play with me once in a while." Daisy folded her arms over her chest and stared at me pointedly. "You know what they say. All work and no play makes Kyra a dull duchess."
"I know, I know." I sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs and propped my feet on the matching ottoman. "I try not to leave Alice for too long, though. And I've been busy with engagements this past autumn."
Daisy nodded. "We've all been adding to our calendars since Granny's slowed down a bit."
Especially since the Duke's death, the Queen had been slowly transitioning to a less active role, which meant that the rest of the working royals were stepping up our engagements. I knew that in the backs of our minds, we were all well aware of what would inevitably happen sooner or later, but certainly no one wanted to think of it, let alone speak the words aloud.
"Well," I said briskly, changing the subject. "We're here together now for the next ten days at least. Catch me up on all things Daisy. What's going on in your life? What wild adventures have you been up to?"
Daisy smiled, but the sentiment didn't quite reach her lovely blue eyes. "Oh . . ." She shrugged. "Not so awfully much is new or exciting in the life of Daisy. To be honest, everything has been rather dull." She lifted one shoulder. "I do my duty. I visit schools, cut ribbons, make appearances at charities. I've even given a few speeches here and there."
"I did see that." I reached over to squeeze her hand. "You're a natural, Daisy. The Queen must be so proud. I know your parents are—the Duchess was bragging about you when she and your father visited last month."
"Well, I'm trying, you know." She sat back in her chair, tucking her feet beneath her. "It's high time, don't you think, that I grow up a little and stop being Princess Wild Child?" Her lips curved into a smile of self-mockery as she used the moniker the press had bestowed years ago, when she had been a teenager.
"You are who you are, Daisy. And we all love you for who you are. The whole world loves you." I tried to coax a laugh from her. "You're always coming ahead of Nicky and me in those pollsThe Sunruns on the most popular, well-loved member of the Royal Family."
"Oh, yes. And that's enough to keep a woman warm on a lonely night," she shot back. With a sigh, Daisy let her head rest on the wing of the chair as her eyes drifted shut. "That's the truth of it, Ky. I'm lonely almost all of the time. My friends—the ones who used to throw the daring parties and go out with me on my adventures—they're almost all married now. They're starting families. The men who still call—well, none of them interest me. They either want a good time or they want their name linked with mine—being called Princess Daisy's newest boy toy is quite a coup, you know."
We were both silent for a few moments. I could plainly see the misery on Daisy's face; this pain wasn't new. We'd had this conversation in the past, although my sister-in-law didn't often share just how alone she felt. I worried about her.
"I wonder sometimes . . ." she began haltingly. "You know, I was named for our great-aunt, Princess Margaret. Granny's younger sister. She wasn't so lucky in love, either. Maybe it's just my legacy."
"I refuse to believe that," I said stoutly. "You're young, Daisy. You have time. And you're a smart woman who isn't going to make the same mistakes others did, even if you do share a name."
"Maybe." Still, her forehead was creased, and her eyes were bleak.
"Do you ever see him? Or hear from him?" I didn't mention his name, but Daisy would either know of whom I spoke or she'd pretend that she didn't.
After a few seconds of hesitation, she shook her head. "No. Not in a long time. Every now and again, I hear something about him. And a few years back, we were at the same party. I saw him from across the room, but we didn't speak." Her mouth twisted. "He wouldn't want anyone to see us together, you know. It would invite talk, even all these years later."
I bit my lip. Griffin Rockingham was the second son of the Marquis of Rockingham. He was also an increasingly well-known photographer who worked under the name Roc, which was how he'd styled himself when I'd met him a few months before my wedding. He and my sister-in-law had impetuously eloped on the night they'd met, causing a minor scandal and not a small amount of upset in the family. After some strong persuasion, Daisy had agreed to annul the marriage, and she'd never spoken of Roc to me again.
But I'd often wondered if there had been more to their brief relationship than any of us might have guessed. Daisy had changed after that night, and while in some ways that had been necessary—she'd had to mature and take on more responsibility—in others, I thought, it was a shame. She was stil fun, but it seemed there was always part of her missing.
"Well." Daisy smacked one hand on the arm of her chair. "This is ridiculous. It's Christmas, isn't it? And here we sit in somber silence when the rest of the family will be gathering for tea." Grabbing my hand, she hauled me to my feet. "Come on, Ky. Let's get there early and score a seat close enough to Granny that the other cousins are jealous and shoot dart glances at us all evening."
Laughing, I followed her to the door. "Is that really something we want to do, Daisy?"
Snorting, she rolled her eyes. "These days, Ky, I take my fun where I can get it."
ChapterSix
"Ihave a surprise for you."
I swiveled on the seat in front of my dressing table, where I was doing my makeup and hair ahead of Christmas Eve lunch. Nicky stood in the doorway between our bedroom and the bathroom, his eyes bright as he watched me.
"Oh, do you now?" I turned back to the mirror and brushed on eyeshadow. "Is this the kind of surprise that will mess up my hair? Should we lock the door?"
Nicky laughed. "Not a bad idea, darling, but not just now. This surprise requires you to be dressed and to accompany me to the sitting room down the hall."
"Is it my Christmas gift?" I inquired absently, concentrating on drawing my eyeliner straight.
