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“What is it?” Daffodil’s own hands rested on her stomach, pressing to keep the rolling waves from overtaking her.
Grace stepped closer. “Your name was mentioned in connection with Lord Rathemore.”
She lifted one of her hands from her stomach to cover her mouth. Her blood chilled in her veins. “No.” Once word spread, no man would have her. She’d be ruined, and what if this affected Violette as well? Her sister—her family—would never forgive her.
Grace’s hands flitted to her skirts. “What will you do?”
Daffodil closed her eyes. Did it matter? “Nothing.” She opened them again, forcing her lips into a smile. “My sister is marrying His Grace, The Duke of Waverly.” She reached for Grace’s hand. It had been exceptionally nice of Grace to warn her. She no longer read any of the gossip columns, it might have been weeks before she’d realized. What if she’d gone out in public unprepared? “I’m sure he’ll be able to help me.”
Grace nodded, her eyes cast to the side. “Oh, that is good news.”
She knew as well as Daffodil that any match the duke could buy would be inferior. If he would help her at all.
Daffodil was well and truly ruined.
Chapter Eleven
Rex listened from the hall, his gut roiling. He’d realized on the walk back to the house that he hadn’t handled the situation very well. In his imaginings, he’d caught Rathemore in a dark alley or perhaps alone in the park. A public beating had
not been part of the plan.
But Rathemore’s words had filled him with an anger he’d scarce imagined. He’d talked about Petal as though she were just another conquest. He couldn’t abide it.
Hearing Grace, however, he realized he’d also said her name. Bloody hell he’d really bullocksed that up.
He scrubbed his head with both hands. How bad was this? Theo was a duke and, as Petal had said, he could make a match for her. It would be with a lord who was most likely destitute or unwanted for some physical or social deformity. Or perhaps not a lord at all. Maybe a second son who’d gone into a profession.
That wasn’t nearly good enough for his flower.
Besides, it grated his senses to think of another man solving her problems. Especially when he’d made them. It was his duty to help her after what he’d done. It was his mistake to fix.
There was only one possible solution. He’d marry her himself. His gut clenched in fear. What if something happened to her the way it had Mary? Pushing off the wall, he started toward the stairs to change his clothes. He needed to help Jacob.
As he took the stairs two at a time, his thoughts pinged about his head. He’d been so young the first time he’d wed and desperate for adventure. The match had been made by their fathers. Rex hadn’t loved Mary, he’d married out of a sense of duty.
And Petal? He stopped at the top of the stairs. Bloody hell and fiery damnation, he was in love with her. He thought about Barbados and what had happened to his first wife. He’d never leave Petal alone. She would be his to protect, to cherish.
When had this happened?
But another voice drowned out the first. He had a habit of breaking things, even when he wanted to keep them dear. Just look at what he’d done to his precious Petal today. He had been trying to vindicate her and in the process, he’d mucked it all up. What if by marrying her, he inadvertently did the same thing?
Reaching his room, he slammed the door behind him and began yanking at his clothing.
At least, if he wed her, he could help Jacob. He hadn’t ruined that attempt.
Besides, there was no other choice. He wouldn’t leave her to fate.
With that in mind, he changed into work clothes and headed back to the kitchen. He stopped again, just outside the door to make sure Grace wasn’t still there.
At first he didn’t hear anything, but then the distinct sound of a sniff caught his ear. Then another. Petal was crying.
* * *
Daffodil stood in front of the stove as though she were still cooking, but her thoughts were somewhere else entirely. Without a dowry, she hadn’t had much hope on the marriage market with her peers. It wasn’t as though that had changed. Before her sister’s engagement, she’d assumed she’d make an arrangement with a doctor or businessman but she’d at least have a reasonably comfortable life. Children of her own. Now? With her reputation in tatters, she didn’t even know if that was a possibility. She’d told Grace that her brother-in-law would help because she didn’t want her friend to worry. The pity in Grace’s eyes had been too much to bear.
Honestly, though, she didn’t know His Grace from a stranger on the street. What if he cast her out? Daffodil’s stomach turned and tears welled in her eyes.
There was nothing to do but take matters into her own hands. She should have done it months ago when she’d first allowed Rathemore to touch her. She’d have to join the convent and forget about dreams of marriage and having children.
