Page 49 of Love and the Shameless Lady

“You don’t think she is capable of such infamy?”

“Heavens, no. She is very good-natured. Andrea Beaumont is more of a fool than I thought, if she’s spouting that sort of bilge, for it will certainly come back to bite her. Everyone likes Lady Bilchester, while many people actively dislike Andrea.”

“But mightn’t Lady Bilchester go to any lengths to save her daughter’s chances?”

“Not those lengths! Even if she knew how to hire an assassin, it would never occur to her to do so. She knows very well that this on dit will soon be replaced by another, and all will be well.”

Daisy suspected she must have looked dubious, for Melinda added, “If you doubt me, ask Sir Julian. He’s a distant cousin to the Bilchesters, but knows them very well.”

How strange that Julian had not told her this.

“Would you like to see the baby now?” Melinda asked. “We could creep into the room and watch him sleeping. Or you can come to my bedchamber this evening and keep me company while I nurse him.”

With sudden full force, the reason for her anxiety became clear. “Oh, no.”

“What?”

“I mustn’t stay here, not in this wing. Oh, Lady Garrison, would you please allow me to move to the opposite end of the house?”

“It’s Melinda, and if that’s what you wish, I quite understand. Naturally you prefer to be near Sir Julian. Once you’ve bedded a man you love, it’s very hard not to sleep with him.”

Horrified, Daisy blurted, “No, no, that’s not it! I haven’t bedded him. I don’t intend to.” Ever.

“Until you’re married? Yes, that would be preferable. But in that case, why move to a different bedchamber? It will cause talk, not that there won’t be plenty of that already, as I’m sure you know.”

Daisy nodded. “Yes, but talk is the least of my problems just now.” She let out a long, unhappy breath and came to a decision. “I lied to you. Andrea Beaumont wrote to me about Lady Bilchester and her daughter, but she didn’t tell me Lady Bilchester had sworn vengeance. I made that part up, but I thought it was true.”

Melinda’s brows drew together. “I don’t understand.”

Daisy bit her lip. She took a deep breath. “I’m the one who wrote those books.”

An astonished smile broke across Melinda’s face. “You wrote The Lady’s Ruin?”

Daisy nodded.

“And The Lady’s Revenge? And some other books, too!”

“Yes.”

“How marvelous!” Melinda threw her arms around Daisy. “How incredibly clever of you.” She hugged hard before letting Daisy go. “Oh, won’t Miles be surprised. You mustn’t be offended if he tells you your books are nonsensical. He says that of every romantic novel I read.”

“I shan’t mind. I have far worse to deal with.” Daisy paused. “You see, someone really is trying to kill me.”

Melinda’s mouth fell open. “But-But why?”

“I don’t know! I received a letter, warning me on pain of death not to publish The Lady’s Revenge. It was too late to do anything about that, not that I would have given in to such a threat, but shortly after that, someone shot at me, and that very evening he tried to break into my room at the Diving Duck. Sir Julian brought me to Garrison House for safety.”

“Good heavens, how horrid. Whoever he is, he must be mad, and you did perfectly right to come here! Don’t worry, I’ll tell Miles, and he’ll take care of everything.”

“Sir Julian intends to explain it all to Miles, but don’t you see? What if the murderer finds his way into the house, into this wing, and tries to kill me, with you and the baby so close by? You and he could be in danger, so I must stay as far away from you as I possibly can.”

Julian left Lord Garrison and stalked to his bedchamber to change for dinner. The bloody cheek of the man, to accuse him of fortune hunting!

He washed, donned a fresh shirt, and was almost ready to seek out Daisy when a soft tap sounded on the door. He didn’t need any help dressing—did without a valet most of the time due to his travels—but his boots could use polishing. “Come in.”

The door opened and Daisy entered. “Oh!” She blushed, eyes wide and, he thought, appreciative.

“Oops.” It was absurd that a man in shirtsleeves was considered improper, but so were many maxims of society. “I thought you were one of the manservants.”