It had been a habit, for weeks, to blow out the last candle and gaze out the window at him. He sat on the bench with his brandy, his jacket off and sleeves rolled up, the cat lounging on his lap or next to him.
He was so handsome, but in a different way than she had known him in town. He was at once looking rather rakish in his state ofdéshabillé, but also endearing in his care for the cat.
Her ventures to the window had been unnoticed until the night of the lieutenant’s death. That night, Lord Dalton had looked up and seen her by the light of the full moon. Mortified that she’d been spotted spying on him, she’d called out that she often preferred to have some night air before retiring. It had been the most ridiculous thing in the world and she’d promptly shut her window and jumped in her bed.
But then, she had not given up the habit of staying by the window. She thought he might know it, though he pretended he did not.
She could see from the markings the bench had made on the grass that he had moved it closer to the house. Only a foot or so, but closer. How close would he come?
She knew she ought not allow her thoughts to travel in any particular direction in regard to Lord Dalton. It was soon to be shooting season and Daisy would be packed off to the duke’s estate while the lord made the rounds of house parties.
Lord Burke and Miss Minkerton had been chattering on about their wedding ever since Lady Montague had stormed off. Of course, they had been talking of their wedding ever since the engagement and it seemed the appearance of Lady Montague was not enough to put them off it. It was to take place in a month in Somerset and there was much to arrange. It was not to be a small affair; they would have friends and relatives coming far and wide and expected more than a hundred at the wedding breakfast—every large house in the county would be commandeered to accommodate the guests.
The Minkertons and their soon to be son-in-law would set off for home earlier than they had planned on account of it. Daisy was delighted for them, though she would miss Belle’s company.
They rose and Miss Minkerton said, “We will be off to town now. I have explained to Lord Burke that there is a perfectly charming bonnet that ought to be included in my trousseau and he has insisted I have it.”
Daisy smiled. “Of course he has insisted.”
“And anything else she likes,” Lord Burke said. “Now is a time for weddings and the frippery that must come along with it. We may safely leave all unpleasantness behind, I think.”
“Agreed,” Lord Dalton said.
“Agreed?” Lord Burke said. “I had not thought to hear that sentiment from you, my friend.”
Lord Dalton fed the cat a choice piece of ham and said, “I have grown weary of plots, whether they be Farthmore’s or Lady Montague’s. Or even my own. You may have noticed I did not do a thing to stop you chaining yourself. Let us finally have done with it all.”
“Well said,” Lord Burke said.
“Though,chaining, Lord Dalton?” Miss Minkerton said. “Lord Burke is notchaininghimself.”
“I am, and happily,” Lord Burke said.
“Well, as long as it’s happily,” Miss Minkerton said, with an adorable shrug.
As Lord Burke escorted Miss Minkerton out of the garden, Daisy was amused to hear him inquire, yet again, on the state of her by now long-healed ankle.
“I will be sorry to see them go,” Mrs. Jellops said. “Though wherever we are to be in a month, I hope we can attend the wedding. Mrs. Phelps will be there, her house is very nearby. She’d said I ought to stay with her and she will show me her own recipe for mustard, which is a deal more civil than Mr. Flanagan’s, and we might entertain ourselves with piquet of an evening.”
Despite being tickled by the idea of Mrs. Jellops further corrupting Mrs. Phelps’ ideas about piquet, Daisy did not laugh. The subject of what was to be done with her and her companion in the next months had been raised and she waited to hear what Lord Dalton would say.
He took so long to say anything that Daisy began to wonder if he’d given it any thought at all.
Finally, he said, “Yes, as to that…I had thought I’d write to the hostesses that have kindly invited me to stay for shooting and let them know you would come as well. But then I thought…”
Daisy felt as if her heart was dropping. He had thought to bring them along with him, but then he’d thought…
“Then I thought, well it is very pleasant here and the notion that nobody can stay at the seaside beyond a certain date is nonsense and does it not become tedious to always spend one’s days shooting game for somebody else’s table?”
“I would find it alarming to shoot anything at all,” Mrs. Jellops said. “But do you say that we ought to stay here, Lord Dalton?”
“I suppose here is as good as anywhere,” Lord Dalton said. “You’ve got to be somewhere until Miss Danworth reaches her majority. Unless, of course, you prefer the estate in Shropshire.”
Both Daisy and Mrs. Jellops recoiled at the idea. Daisy wished never to walk through those doors again. It had been the scene of her unhappy childhood and would still smell of her father’s tobacco.
“I see that is not a preference,” Lord Dalton said.
“If you do not mind staying here,” Daisy said, “I certainly do not mind it. Mrs. Jellops, do you mind it?”
