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“Be grateful that Frederick didn’t mention a tow-headed baby.”
Daisy gasped and dropped the pins she held. “He saw Belle?”
“He marched straight past Hobbs and walked into my bedchamber—where I was changing my cravat after Belle spit up milk. For her part, she was sitting on the floor, clinging to my leg and bellowing. During the night she decided that I was worth fighting for.”
“Oh, no,” Daisy breathed. “What did Frederick say when he saw Belle?”
“He raised an eyebrow and said, ‘Wedding bells are ringing, or so they would be if you showed up.’ Then he added something uncomplimentary that included a promise to cut my throat if I failed to shake off my child and make my vows in the next ten minutes, followed by an offer to replace me if I wished to run for the harbor.”
A giggle escaped from Daisy’s mouth, and she slapped a hand over her lips. “I’m sorry! It’s not funny.”
“I would have fired Hobbs for letting him upstairs, but I need the man to hire a nanny this afternoon. None of our maids was able to comfort the child, nor was the housekeeper. We need a miracle.”
“I don’t understand it. Belle seemed like such a happy baby.”
“Perhaps she is, when she isn’t teething. We’ll have to tell the household carriage to drop back by a mile or we’ll hear her howling.”
Daisy grimaced. “I see shadows under your eyes. Did she wake you from sleep?”
A crack of laughter. “Sleep?”
Regina poked her head into the antechamber. “When I said to make an entrance, I didn’t mean that you should wait an hour. Do come along. Everyone is titillated by a man with your fortune marrying in such haste,” she told Miles. “Lady Wharton is telling people in strict confidence that she refused your first proposal but couldn’t resist your second, after you fell to your knees and begged for Daisy’s hand.”
Miles looked disgusted.
“I thought you might need advance warning,” Regina said smugly. “Keep in mind that you’ve been experiencing the agony of a broken heart for months.”
“Could we announce that I stole my bride away after achieving my heart’s desire?” Miles inquired.
Daisy felt the scorn in his voice like a blow.
“Not if you wish to quell the scandal,” Regina said. “My brother lost his mind when he fell in love, so you can just copy his underbred mannerisms. Stare at your wife as if she hung the moon.”
Miles looked as if he’d like to roll his eyes.
Why didn’t she flee to Frederick’s house, a man who was genuinely fond of her? Miles didn’t seem to feel even a lukewarm version of that emotion.
Lust, yes. Affection? Perhaps.
“Come along, Lady Devin,” her husband said resignedly, tucking her arm into his elbow. “I can’t play this scene without a leading lady.”
“Thank you again,” she said, wondering if she would ever feel less guilty.
“Don’t thank him! He seduced you, so it’s the least he can do!” Regina said tartly, sweeping ahead of them to the door.
EPISODE ONE HUNDRED AND SEVEN
A ROMEO FOR THE MODERN DAY
The wedding breakfast was a triumph. Champagne flowed like water, while Lady Wharton flitted about the room spreading tales about Miles’s supposedly intense emotions. He managed to bite back the sarcastic remarks that popped into his head every time a lady patted his arm, calling him a Romeo for the modern day.
Hopefully, by the time he returned to London, people would have forgotten that he was supposedly riddled with love to the point of threatening to injure himself—like a damn fool.
Daisy’s infatuation did give the event an air of veracity. Every single time he put a hand on her back, rosy color crept into her cheeks. He found it fairly easy to play the role of a lovesick husband—Daisy was so pretty and charming that he kept having to intervene with men trying to flirt with his new bride—but anyone could tell that her emotion was genuine. Not something he ever envisioned in a wife, but it was rather pleasant nonetheless.
Finally Lady Wharton nodded, the signal that he and his wife were allowed to depart. He caught Daisy’s hand and then froze, struck by the glow in her eyes as she smiled at him.
His wife was in love with him.
