Page 85 of Love and the Shameless Lady

“Spoken like a true aristocrat,” Julian said, laughter lurking in his voice.

“Poor Antoine,” the marquis said. “He hated the aristos, but he loved Daisy.”

Everyone gaped at him, even the footman.

“What?” Daisy squeaked.

“It is a great pity that I realized that Daisy and Desdemona Warren were one and the same. I greatly regret telling him, for he would never have known otherwise. Picture his dismay when he learned that Daisy the barmaid, whom he loved to distraction, was not only the authoress, but a member of a noble family. I believe this is what finally sent Antoine mad.”

This was pure fabrication. Antoine had been friendly enough, but he hadn’t flirted with her any more than he had with Sally, Alice, or any other young female who happened along. Daisy opened her mouth to protest, but Julian squeezed her hand again. Exasperated but determined to trust him, she shut it again.

The marquis heaved an extravagant sigh. “I have explained many times over the years that true nobility is of the heart, not a mere accident of birth, but he refused to understand. The discovery that she was an aristo both in fact and at heart utterly destroyed him.”

“He told you this?” Julian asked.

“Not in so many words, but he wept, poor man, and confessed all to me after he tried to murder Daisy in her room at the inn.”

“After he’d already tried to shoot her when she was out riding,” Julian added.

Philippe stared. “I did not know that.” Again, he seemed sincere. A good actor, or had he truly not known? “It is fortunate that I caught him leaving her room and forced him to explain himself. Poor man, I told him he must be brave and accept that Daisy was not for him, but he felt betrayed. He was a disciple of the great Robespierre. He believed that all traitors to the Revolution must die.”

“But I’m not even French,” Daisy protested. “How could I be a traitor to the Revolution?”

“In the mind of a madman, anything is possible.” The marquis spread his hands in apparent bewilderment. “My poor Antoine calmed and seemed to accept the truth. And yet, I feared for Miss Daisy and was relieved to find that she had left the inn to go to her brother’s house. Had I known she would be here instead, I would not have come.”

“I should hope not,” Miles snapped.

“I crave your pardon, my lord. I needed a little time to think of an excuse to leave here in haste. I thought she would be safe for one night in the care of Sir Julian, but still I kept watch on my servant. He eluded me tonight, but not for long.”

Daisy regretted going along with this story, but it was too late to do anything about that. All she wanted now was to end it. “Poor man, he truly was insane. I am sorry if I caused him suffering, but it’s a mercy he is dead.”

“Very well, but why was the trap door open in the first place?” Miles said. “What is Daisy doing out here, and why was my chess set on the floor of the Great Hall?”

“That was my fault,” Daisy said. “All the talk of thefts unnerved me, and I couldn’t sleep. I was afraid that thieves might be after your chess set. It’s so very beautiful, and you love it so much. I went downstairs to get it. But there was a footman lying on the floor, and an intruder in the house. I ran away.” Which was true as far as it went, but it sounded as if she’d fled in terror. How annoying.

Miles tsked. “I suppose you meant well, Daisy, but that set isn’t worth enough to attract thieves. At least you had the sense to run and hide.”

She loathed being seen as a hysterical female, but Miles couldn’t help being male. It was worse being unable to accuse the marquis.

“And the trap door?” Miles asked again.

Daisy had no answer for that except the truth. She eyed the marquis, whose rueful shrug told her that he was entirely at her mercy.

For the third time, Julian squeezed her hand. “I’m very much afraid that the only man who can answer that is dead.”

She won’t be able to hold it in much longer. Julian put an arm around Daisy and shepherded her away from the summerhouse.

“Good thought, Sir Julian,” Lord Garrison said. “She need not witness this. Take her back to the house and ask Mrs. Reams to give her a composer.”

“I don’t need a composer,” Daisy retorted.

“Nonsense. Be off with you. Melinda is awake and worrying. Kindly reassure her.”

The instant they were out of earshot, Daisy came to a halt and hissed, “What a pack of lies! You’re as bad as the marquis.”

“Not quite, I hope.” Julian took her hand in his and got them moving again.

She quivered—with rage, he assumed—but came along with him. “Antoine was never in love with me.”