Page 59 of Love and the Shameless Lady

She made her way to the small drawing room. Gloriana paced back and forth before the windows. She whirled at Daisy’s entrance. “Did Miles tell you—” She halted mid-sentence, her mouth agape. “You’re wearing an apron. And there’s something on your cheek.”

“It’s probably flour.” She stopped herself from brushing it off.

“What have you been doing?”

“Making rock buns,” Daisy said. “What do you want?”

Gloriana squeezed her eyes shut as if in pain. “Why? You’re a gentlewoman, and what’s more, you’re a guest in the house of a peer. Whatever you’re obliged to do at that inn, you needn’t do it here.”

“I’m not obliged to do anything,” Daisy said. “I like cooking and baking.”

“I suppose you scrub floors, too.”

“No, but I do sweep them. I repeat, what do you want with me?”

Gloriana blew out a long breath. “Shut the door.” She paused. “Please.”

With a shrug, Daisy complied. Her fingers itched to brush the flour off her cheek, but she remained still, eyeing her cousin.

“Mostly, or at least partly, I came to apologize.” Gloriana twisted her hands together, an achingly familiar gesture, and suddenly Daisy remembered what she’d been unable to recall yesterday. Crossing one’s fingers meant one was telling a lie.

A pity she hadn’t realized that at the time, as it would have spared her a great deal of anguish. She mightn’t have burst into humiliating tears, either.

“I tried to let you know that I didn’t mean what I was saying,” Gloriana said.

“The crossed fingers,” Daisy said coldly. “Unfortunately, I didn’t remember what it meant until just now.”

“I’m sorry I was unkind yesterday, and I’m even sorrier that I must continue to be so.” She chewed her lip, exactly as she had in childhood. “I never dreamed I would have to be publicly hateful to you. It makes me sick. Literally, I mean. I almost vomited all over Melinda’s roses.”

What a relief to be back, even for a few minutes, in a world where Gloriana’s passionate temper was as familiar to Daisy as her own frustrations. “You’re being hateful because of Lord Hythwick?”

Gloriana nodded. “They told you about him at dinner, I assume. Nobody wants me to marry him.”

“I’m not surprised. He sounds frightful.”

“He’s an earl,” Gloriana said. “I’ll be a countess, head of a proud family with absolutely no scandals to its name. It’s the culmination of my fondest hopes.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Daisy retorted.

Gloriana glared at her. Then sniffled. Heavens, was she wiping a tear from her eye? “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters. Why would you wed a man you don’t love?”

“Love is an illusion,” she replied automatically. It was one of the cherished family maxims. “Although seemingly that has changed for other Warrens—Miles, Colin, and now you. I’m quite, quite jealous, and I hope you’ll be deliriously happy.” She sighed. “But love is not for me.”

Daisy bit back the temptation to confess her own woeful expectations. “Why not?”

“It just isn’t,” Gloriana muttered. “I’ve missed you, Daisy. I wish we could still be friends.”

“So do I, but the choice is yours, not mine.”

“No, it’s not my choice either.”

“That makes no sense at all. Just don’t marry Lord Hythwick.”

Gloriana shook her head dismissively. “Perhaps we can be friends in secret. Or perhaps I’ll manage to visit Miles and Melinda without Hythwick, and you can visit at the same time, and he’ll never know. Or maybe you will be socially acceptable again once you’ve been married to Sir Julian for several years. He’s a good sort of man. I admit, I was surprised that he’s willing to marry a scandalous woman, but it speaks well of him. You know I don’t really think badly of you—not even about wearing aprons and sweeping floors, which, although incomprehensible, is actually rather quaint.”

“No, I don’t know,” Daisy retorted. “How could I possibly? You never wrote to me but once, and you said you never wanted to see me again.”