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A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I am very well,” she told him, not allowing him to see the anxiety that she felt. “I am sure all will go very well indeed.”
Lord Watt smiled briefly, reaching out one hand only to drop it back to his side, as if he had been wanting to take her hand but had quite forgotten how to do so.
Her heart began to ache all over again. “Lord Watt, I—”
“We will have much to discuss later, I am sure,” he interrupted, as though he had not heard her speak. “Speak well and with confidence, knowing that myself and the others are listening to every word.” He sighed softly, looking deeply into her eyes as if there was more that he wanted to say but could not quite bring himself to do it. Instead, he put one hand out and ran his fingers down her cheek delicately.
Her face bloomed with color.
“Extraordinary,” he murmured, so quietly that she struggled to hear him. “Quite extraordinary.”
And then, he was gone, moving back into the shadows and leaving her feeling more alone than before. Forcing herself to put a smile on her lips that she did not feel, Daisy turned to make her way back towards the fireplace, not even hearing the door opening softly and certainly not seeing the other gentlemen who stepped inside. They all found places to hide and shadows to cover them before Daisy had even made her way to the fireplace, and had it not been for her belief that the men of the League did as they promised, Daisy would have felt entirely alone.
“Lord Stevenson.”
The moment the door opened, every single part of Daisy burst to life. She saw him hesitate, then step inside but left the door ajar.
“Miss Williams,” he said gruffly. “This is a little unorthodox.”
She tried to smile but could not quite manage to do so. “I am fully aware that it is not quite within the bounds of propriety,” she answered, trying to inject a sense of lightheartedness into her voice, “but there are some questions I must ask you before I can give you my answer.”
He came closer to her, ambling slowly with his gaze locked upon her own, giving her no chance to look away. “Your answer?”
“To your question of courtship and marriage,” she answered, seeing how he ducked his head at once as she spoke. Had he forgotten he had asked her such a thing? “I have a thought to accept you, Lord Stevenson, but I have one or two questions I must ask you at the first.”
Lord Stevenson cleared his throat gruffly, then wandered to the small table to his right, where he poured himself a large whiskey. The smell of it filled the room almost at once, mingling with the heat and the smoke of the fire. “What is it you wish to ask me, Miss Williams?” he asked, sitting down heavily in a chair and gesturing for her to do the same. “I am a gentleman of wealth, with a good title and excellent family. I have told you that I require a wife and that I find you a suitable candidate. What else is there for you to know?” He appeared almost angry that she had asked him such a thing, but Daisy did not permit his demeanor to affect her in any way.
“It is only that it is very sudden indeed,” she stated, quite calmly. “And given that you do not know me very well at all, I must wonder what it is that you see in me that makes you believe that I am a suitable lady?” She did not sit down as he had asked but took a step closer to him. “Or is it to do with Lord Fitzherbert?”
She heard the slight shake in her voice but held her gaze steady, looking at him and seeing how the glass in his hand began to shake. His eyes widened; his mouth opened, but no sound came from him.
And then, he slammed the glass down hard on the table, sat forward in his chair, and shook one finger at her. “You do not wish to accept me, Miss Williams? Then that is all you need say! There is no need to try and find some sort of explanation, some sort of excuse! All you need do is tell me the truth.” He threw up his hands and made to get out of his chair. “Thinking that I should care a jot about Lord Fitzherbert and what he does.”
Daisy did not move an inch, holding her ground and refusing to allow him to bat away her question so easily. “You know Lord Fitzherbert.”
“What of it?” he exclaimed, now standing up in front of her. “He is a fool and I— ”
“And you are not a fool,” she answered quietly. “Nor am I, Lord Stevenson. I will tell you the truth if you are prepared to listen. And you need only then confirm whether I speak the truth or not.” Watching Lord Stevenson closely, she studied every inch of his features, seeing the slight flicker in his eyes, the tightness of his frame and the angry workings of his jaw. The gentleman was more upset than he was willing to show.
“What is it you believe you know, Miss Williams?” he asked, a slight sneer to his voice. “Do you think that I have fallen in love with you and that is why I wish to steal you from Lord Fitzherbert’s attentions?”
Her chin lifted, and she looked at him until the smirk left his face and until his eyes grew a little downcast. “No,” she answered quietly. “No, I do not think that you are in love with me, Lord Stevenson. Rather, I think you are afraid of Lord Fitzherbert.” She saw him jerk his head up, an angry look in his eyes but held up one hand, ready to calm him again. “I do not mean to say that you are afraid of him out of some sort of weakness in your character but rather that there is a fear in what he might do.” Moving a little closer to him, she saw the suspicion in his eyes. “Lord Stevenson, I am fully aware that my father knew both you, Lord Fitzherbert, and two other gentlemen whom, it seems, are now dead and gone.”
Lord Stevenson stared at her as though she had told him something truly horrific. His mouth opened and closed again, his cheeks a little pale and the anger seeming to leave his eyes.
“He did it then,” he muttered, turning a little away from her and rubbing his forehead. “I did not think he would.”
Daisy’s stomach began to churn as she saw the tormented expression on his face. “Lord Fitzherbert, you mean?” she asked softly. “Was he the one to kill my father?”
Lord Stevenson swallowed hard and sank back down in his chair, his elbows on his knees and his hands in front of his face. He said nothing for some minutes, filling the air with such tension that Daisy could hardly stand it. She wanted to shout at him, to pull him from his thoughts and to force him to answer her but knew she could not do anything of the sort. This was evidently a shock to him, and she had to allow him the time to think through what she had said.
“I am trying to keep you from a gentleman so cruel and calculating that he would do nothing but bring you harm,” Lord Stevenson muttered eventually, his face in his hands. “That is all, Miss Williams.”
“You know I cannot believe that,” Daisy answered swiftly. “There is too much written on your face for it to be so.”
Lord Stevenson let out a loud groan, and Daisy sat back down in her own chair, half wishing that she had poured herself a small whisky before Lord Stevenson had arrived, given how she was now feeling. “Tell me the truth, Lord Stevenson,” she begged, keeping her voice soft. “I must know it.”
Lord Stevenson shook his head, dropping his hands and looking at her with such a tormented expression that Daisy caught her breath.
