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Daisy couldn’t believe that she’d ever had an infatuation with the pompous, arrogant arse who was standing before her. He sounded as if he was a solicitor, doling out charges at the bar.
“Did you consider what would happen after your husband discovered that not only were you unchaste, but that you had given birth?” he demanded. “The event leaves marks on a woman’s body, as I’m sure you are aware.”
Daisy had no idea what the marks might be, but that was irrelevant. “You are outrageous … horrible!” she spluttered.
“If you had been party to the cases I have investigated, you would be as cynical as I. Polite society is nothing more than a cesspool of sexual profligacy.”
“Amongst your friends, perhaps,” she said scathingly. “Fellows like Rothingale, who entertain you one minute and try to seduce your sister the next. Can there be anything worse than a man who chides a lady for not wearing a halo—when he himself pranced around a masquerade looking for a mistress?”
Miles’s face shut like a trap. “An error on my part. Your mother kindly pointed out my transgressions. As for the halo, evidence suggests that your claims for that—or a white veil—were lost some time ago.”
She was so angry that she couldn’t even think straight. “What do you know of women’s bodies? Men are fools in that respect, as in so many others. I shall leave and you can forget all about me and my sexual—what was the term? Profligacy?”
His jaw clenched. “I should not have spoken so, and I was not referring to you. Obviously a man took advantage of you. He is the cesspool.”
Daisy snorted. “There is no cesspool in my life.”
Then she winced, remembering her father.
His eyes caught the gesture and softened. “There’s only one solution to your problem, Daisy, and we both know it.”
“I will not allow Belle to be sent to an orphanage!” She took in a deep breath. “If you’re going to suggest that she be housed in the country, I refuse that as well.” She reached out her arms, and Belle leaned toward her, making Daisy’s heart burst with tenderness. “I intend to raise her myself, no matter the scandal,” she said, snuggling Belle against her breast.
“In that case, I’ll marry you.”
She gaped at him. “What?”
“We’ll marry by special license.” Miles’s voice was even. He no longer looked contemptuous but resigned. “What did you think would happen when you came here?”
“Not that. I thought you had—”
His hand slashed through the air. “Nonsense! You brought that child to me knowing that I would have to marry you.”
“I didn’t,” Daisy gasped. “Given your reputation, I thought this was a problem you had faced before. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man in the world!”
He laughed. “Are you quite certain?”
She felt her face turning red with embarrassment. “Marry you?” She was proud of her sarcastic tone. “I came to you because of your reputation. I wouldn’t want to marry a man whose morals are so loose!”
It was a lie. Even now, with the way he was looking at her, with the assumptions he made about her, she only had to look at him to feel a wash of longing.
“There’s only one solution, Daisy, and it’s marriage.”
Behind him, the door to the library opened.
Hobbs entered and announced, “The Lady Regina.”
Glimpsing the baby in Daisy’s arms, the butler’s eyes widened. Regina shoved him to the side and traipsed into the room, followed by her maid.
“I’ve grown concerned about the reputation of my dear friend, Miss Wharton,” she said brightly. “I know that …” Her voice faltered into silence. With a sharp jerk, she slammed the door in Hobb’s face.
Belle lifted her head and smiled at the new arrival. “Moo!”
EPISODE ONE HUNDRED AND THREE
A SCENE OF DEBAUCHERY
Slashes of crimson colored Regina’s cheeks. “Miss Wharton!” she gasped. “You—you—and Lord Devin—”
