Page 87 of Love and the Shameless Lady

“Let’s go indoors.”

Hand in hand, they made their way to the kitchen door, which was firmly locked and barred. Julian knocked and shouted, “Open up! Miss Daisy is with me.”

Reams opened the door a little and peered out. “Oh, thank the Lord.” He opened wide. They entered the warm, brightly lit kitchen. Melinda hurried toward them, the sleeping baby in her arms. “You’re unhurt?”

Mrs. Reams was right behind her, clucking her concern.

“I’m well,” Daisy said. The worry on Melinda’s face made her throat swell. “Lord Garrison is fine.”

“What a relief.” Melinda stared. “Is that blood on your wrapper? Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Daisy said. “That’s Antoine’s blood. He attacked me, and I defended myself with my knife.”

Mrs. Reams clapped a hand to her bosom. Melinda clutched the baby closer. Even Reams, at the door again, turned in shock. “Do you mean . . . he tried to ravish you?” Melinda asked.

“No! No, of course not. He-He, no, Sir Julian and the marquis were chasing him. M-Maybe he meant to use me as a hostage, so he could get away.”

“But he is dead now.” Julian slid a comforting arm around Daisy. “You need fear him no longer.”

Melinda frowned. “Antoine is the thief?”

Daisy froze, stunned. Did they all know?

“Thief?” How did Julian manage to sound so surprised? “Ah, you’re referring to the chess set.”

Daisy let out a relieved breath. She was more unsettled than she’d realized. If she couldn’t think clearly, she would let the cat out of the bag with regards to Philippe. Also, the servants didn’t know about the death threat or that she’d written novels. She had to keep it that way.

Julian tightened his arm. “It’s all right, love. Let me explain.”

She didn’t need him to take over, but it was very comforting, and pretending to be so overset that she couldn’t speak properly was a good idea, if she couldn’t keep her stories straight.

“Daisy was distressed by all the talk of thieves last evening. She went downstairs in the middle of the night to bring the chess set to safety, and unfortunately encountered Antoine.” He infused a measure of husbandly disapproval into his voice.

Surprisingly, she didn’t mind. Much. “Because it’s Miles’s favorite set,” she protested. “I couldn’t bear it if some horrid thief took it away.”

“That’s typically thoughtful of you, darling,” Julian said, “but when we are properly married, I shall make sure you don’t leave the bed at night.”

Melinda laughed, but Mrs. Reams clucked her disapproval, as if the impropriety of the situation had just dawned on her. Daisy, ruined or not, must not remain in dishabille with a gentleman in the room. “Miss Daisy, you must go straight to your bedchamber. I’ll bring you a hot brick and a composer and tuck you up in bed.”

“I don’t need a composer. I’d like a bracing hot cup of tea.”

“With some brandy in it,” Julian said.

“Oh, very well, but only a little.” She didn’t seem to be able to say no to anything Julian said. She wasn’t sure she liked it, but it was easier to let him take care of her in whichever way he saw fit . . .

She shivered and set that thought aside. She slipped out of his embrace and tossed him a glare, hoping he understood that he was not, under any circumstances, to exclude her from his upcoming talk with Philippe. His lip curled up at one corner, and he gave her the faintest nod.

She wished she didn’t love him so much.

She turned to Mrs. Reams. “Also, I should like some water to wash in.”

“A bath!” Melinda said. “Do you feel besmirched? I would, if someone attacked me. A bath will make you feel better.” The baby squirmed in her arms and woke with a tiny cry.

“No, definitely not. The footmen are busy, and Reams can’t carry all that water upstairs! I just want to wash my face and hands.”

“Very well.” Melinda frowned. “If Antoine wasn’t a thief, why was he running away?”

Daisy groaned. “No more questions, please.”