Edith Layton (11 page)

The countess’s brilliant blue eyes grew larger; that was the only way Daisy could read any reaction. “Surely you don’t mean to stay in a hotel forever?”

“Well, no. But I don’t know where I want to settle yet.”

“Mrs. Tanner will probably settle down with a husband before long,” Leland said. “So there’s little sense in her buying or renting a house now.”

“I see,” his mother said, without looking at him. “Have you anyone in mind, my dear?”

“My lady!” Leland said with an exasperated laugh. “Bow Street wouldn’t ask her such personal questions.”

“Would they not?” the viscountess asked. “So what
have
they asked?”

Daisy sat up straighter. The lady might be elegant, and far above her touch, but her conversation was presumptuous. She herself had been raised to act like a lady, and if the countess wasn’t behaving like one, she would.

“Bow Street hasn’t asked me anything yet,”
Daisy said calmly. “If they do, I’ll tell them all. The thief that stabbed your son was after my purse, and when the viscount here rushed to protect me, he got stabbed. I wish he hadn’t had to; it wouldn’t have happened if I’d my wits and remembered I had my knife about me. But not my barker. I usually carry one, too, but I’d left it home that night. That won’t happen again.”

“A
knife
?” the viscountess asked, her brows going up.

“And a pistol,” Leland said with amusement. “Don’t worry about me, Mama, if you are, that is to say. I’ll be perfectly safe now that I’ve got a bruiser like Mrs. Tanner to protect me.”

Daisy laughed. The countess didn’t. Daisy wondered if she could.

“Of course I worry about you, Haye,” the viscountess said without a trace of emotion. “I understood the wound was not serious. At least that’s what the message the earl sent to me said. So why then are you still abed?”

“It’s his wish,” Leland said. “He feels responsible for me when I’m under his roof. I’m getting up tomorrow and going home soon after.”

“That relieves my mind,” she said in the same cool tones. “Even so, I will ask for a personal interview with him. You always make light of everything, Haye. I want to know what he really thinks.”

Daisy felt chilled. The woman called her son by his titled name, and scarcely looked at him.
There seemed to be no emotion in her. Yet she’d produced a laughing, exuberant son like Daffyd. Daisy guessed that must have been because he’d gotten more of his Gypsy father’s blood. But how could this cold creature have produced a merry care-for-nothing sensualist like Leland, Lord Haye?

The viscountess turned her penetrating gaze on her son and asked him how he felt, at last. He told her. And told her. She sighed at his long list of ridiculous mock complaints. She didn’t tolerate them for long.

Soon, she arose. “I don’t want to tire you, Haye. I’ll just go down and ask the earl a few more questions, and then will be on my way. Stay well. Good morning, Mrs. Tanner, until we meet again.”

And then she left the room.

Daisy finally let out her breath.

“Tingling toenails is
not
a disastrous symptom?” Leland asked. “Pity. If I’d known, I’d have told her that one first.”

Daisy didn’t answer.

“Touching, wasn’t it?” he asked her in a tired voice. He laid his head back against his pillows and seemed infinitely weary, and maybe in some pain.

“Are you all right?” Daisy asked immediately, coming close to him. He looked paler than he had when she’d first arrived. “Is there anything you need?”

He turned his head to look at her. He had the same color eyes as his mother, but they seemed gentler even in that severe masculine face. Unlike his mother, his eyes didn’t pierce, they sparkled. He smiled, and those larkspur eyes danced. “What I need, Daisy,” he purred, “is not what I can have here and now.”

She stepped back and frowned at him.

“My dear,” he said softly, “I’d have to be two days dead not to say something like that to a woman like you. Actually,” he said in a different tone, “I feel like I am. She does that to me. She leaches the life from me. I suppose she can’t help it anymore than I can help the way I am, but I wonder how my father got me on her without dying of frostbite first. Sorry,” he said, seeing her expression of surprise, “I don’t mind my manners as I should.”

“It’s all right,” she said absently, taking one of his hands in hers, responding to the pain in his voice and not what he’d said. “I don’t mind. I’ve heard worse. Are you ill? I mean really sick, or is it just that she upset you?”

“Just?”
he asked with a weary, tilted grin. “Lord, I wish there was a ‘just’ about it.” His hand clasped hers. She noted it was cold, and held it tightly. “You say your father didn’t care for you. But you cared for him, as he must have, in
some
way, for you, however ill advised or inept that care was. Because I’ve heard you quote him. That’s good, no matter how bad he was,
because at least he never intentionally hurt you, did he?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“My mama never cared that she did. Oh, blast,” he said, wincing. “Listen to me. I
must
be sick. Here I am with a lovely woman inches away from me, and I’m blathering on like a schoolboy sent to bed early, whining about my parent. Forgive me again.”

She leaned down to pull a pillow up behind his head. She heard him take in a breath and looked down at him. They were very close.

“Did you know,” he asked with interest, his eyes on hers, “that you have the scent of heartsease in your hair? That’s rare. I didn’t know they could make perfume from them. You know, those pretty little flowers with tiny faces that smile up at you from the lawn. It’s a fragile scent, so vague it only reminds you of spring, never insisting on it. Of course you know; what a foolish question.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “You probably have a bottle labeled ‘heartsease’ on your dressing table, just to break the hearts of men.”

She shook her head, and slowly eased her hand from his. His words were lovely to hear, but they dismayed her. Or was it his tone? How could the tender tone of his voice soothe her even as it upset her?

He let her hand go. “Well, that’s so,” he said gently, using the hand she’d released to trace the edges of her cheek with his fingertips. “And did
you know that you’ve the most damnably tempting mouth I’ve seen in many a day?”

But that she knew how to answer, though her voice didn’t have the bite she’d normally have used. “You find many mouths tempting, sir,” she said. “You’re famous for it.”

“So I am. So that makes me an expert, right? And I say yours is not only the most tempting, but the most impudent. I can resist beauty, but why couldn’t you be dim?” he asked in mock despair.

She smiled, though she’d meant to step away.

He slowly ran a finger along the outline of her cheek, and she felt his touch down every seam in her body. Her eyes widened.

He smiled, put his hand at the back of her neck, raised his head as he drew hers down, and gently touched her mouth with his.

She felt her body tingle even as her mouth did. She closed her eyes and bent toward him. She felt the easy strength of his clasp; she’d never known such gentleness at a man’s hands. His mouth was warm, soft velvet. She felt his lips part and the light tentative touch of his tongue. She opened her lips and tasted the dark sweetness of his mouth. Her hand went to his neck, and she felt his warm blood beating beneath her fingertips. His kiss set her own blood to humming, and she yearned and sighed into his mouth, drew closer still—and then suddenly remembered what a kiss led to.

All the sweet promise had only one end to it: sweating and pushing, grunting and shoving, and the pain of humiliation.

She pulled away, straightened her back, and stared down at him. “I don’t do that,” she said jerkily. “Please forget that. And don’t do that again. I must leave.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, but she was gone and out the door.

Leland scowled, angry at himself Wrong of him, of course, to try for a seduction here and now. But he hadn’t meant to. That was new. Her kiss had been so sweet. She’d ended it abruptly and run from him in fear. That was absurd. She wasn’t a schoolroom miss or an ingénue. He never attempted them. She was a warm, ripe woman, and her obvious sympathy and understanding made him behave rashly. But not that rashly! What could he have done to her, after all? Especially here, in the earl’s house. She should have known that; she’d been a married woman.

And yet she might have been right; who knew what he’d been trying to do? It was as much of a surprise to him as it had been to her. Her reaction hadn’t been anger so much as fear. But he hadn’t been attempting rape; surely she knew that. She must know there was nothing much in a kiss.

But there had been in this one. There’d been solace and understanding, desire—and terror, at the end, for her.

Leland lay back, frowning. Now, why should that be? He wanted to know as much as he wanted another kiss from her.
No,
he thought. There was nothing he wanted more than that.

T
he earl paced his study. “So far as you know, then, Mrs. Tanner has no enemies?” he asked Helena.

“None,” Helena answered.

“There haven’t been any other visitors or incidents?”

“None,” Helena said again, then added quietly. “If there were, you’d know of them, because Daisy hasn’t gone many places without you.”

He looked up at that, because of the flat tone of her voice. “You disapprove?”

She lowered her gaze. “It’s not my place to approve or disapprove, my lord.”

“But you do or don’t. I’ve had to work for my supper in my time, and I know opinions are free
to everyone, just not freely given to those we know can harm us. I wouldn’t harm you whatever you said, you must know that.”

“Yes,” she said, looking at him directly. “But I don’t know Mrs. Tanner or you well enough to make any judgments.”

He studied her. She seemed to be a sensible woman. She was not young, yet not in her middle years, and always looked neat and calm. Her hair was worn plainly, drawn back prim as a nun’s, but nothing could disguise the fact that it was a rich deep brown. Her face was sweet, and even in her modest gown, he could see she had a trim figure. She spoke well and behaved modestly, but he’d been in servitude once, and though he knew Daisy was a kind employer, he knew that no kind of service was as pleasant as being one’s own master.

“Nicely said, though I don’t believe it,” he said. “But let it be. You might well disapprove of her spending so much time with me. I’m not sure I don’t myself. She should be with lads her own age. I’m twice that. I feel it, most of the time. But not when I’m with her.”

Helena looked down at her hands tightly clasped in her lap. If he said too much, he might later regret it and tell Daisy to turn her out. But he’d already said too much for her to hear, and so she didn’t know what to say to him.

“My lord?” the butler said from the doorway. “Viscountess Haye wished to see you before she left.”

“Send her in,” the earl said.

The viscountess came in so quickly that Helena realized she must have been waiting in the hall. She ignored Helena and came right to the earl.

“I couldn’t leave without thanking you again, my lord,” she said with a hint of warmth. “My son is lucky in his choice of friends.”

“You’re welcome, my lady, but there’s no need for thanks,” the earl said.

The viscountess’s smile was bitter. “But what am I saying? I meant, my
sons
are lucky.”

Helena wished she were anywhere else. It was true that so far as the lady was concerned, she wasn’t there, but even so, she didn’t know what to do except pretend that she wasn’t there, too. She stared at her slippers. Of course the world knew, by rumor and observation, that the viscountess was mother to the bastard half-Gypsy Daffyd. But it wasn’t discussed in her presence.

“You’ve been kind to both of them,” the viscountess went on. “
Kind?”
Her laughter was hollow. “Ridiculous word, say rather benevolent, and necessary.”

The earl looked embarrassed. “It wasn’t kindness. I like them both. In Daffyd’s case, like a son. In Leland’s, as a good friend.”

“You’ve a positive knack for taking young persons under your wing,” the viscountess said, smiling. “Daffyd, first. Then, when you returned to England, my son Haye. And now Mrs. Tanner.
You’re very good with young people, my lord. You should be congratulated on your patience and charity.”

Helena bit her lip. That was close to ridicule. Did the viscountess mean it that way? Was it because she suspected Daisy’s plans for the earl? More interesting was the way the earl’s face grew ruddy. Did he already return Daisy’s feelings, or was he just embarrassed by praise? It mattered to Helena, though she hated the fact that it did.

“I’d like to show my gratitude, but I know you need for nothing,” the viscountess said. “I also know you don’t care for the social whirl, but Mrs. Tanner seems to appreciate it. So why not bring her to my home next Friday? I’m having a small party. Haye should be out of bed by then, so you’ll have someone to talk to if you don’t care to dance. I know it is late notice, but this way perhaps you’ll agree before you think better of it. What say you? May I count on your presence?”

The earl laughed. “I’m not exactly a hermit. So, yes, thank you, I’d be delighted. I’ll ask Mrs. Tanner as well.”

“You will have the invitation in your hand within the hour. And so will she. Thank
you,
my lord,” the viscountess said. “I look forward to it.”

“I don’t,” the earl murmured after she’d swept from the room. He smiled at Helena. “I
am
a recluse, in point of fact. Or rather, I’ve become one.
I know that’s not a good thing. I’m glad Daisy came to me. She saves me from myself.”

But another woman could as well, Helena protested in her heart. Still, she only said, “Yes. She’s a tonic, a true original, and a delight. Excuse me, my lord, but if you’re done with me, may I rejoin her? It isn’t the thing for her to be alone with the viscount in his bedchamber. He’s bedridden, but not incapacitated, and who knows what his mother might think if she chose to go upstairs again for any reason.”

The earl looked startled. “You’re right!” he said. “I’ve done with questions. We should rejoin them straightaway.”

But when they got back to the viscount’s room, he was alone. Leland lay on his back, studying the ceiling.

“Where’s Daisy?” the earl asked.

“I devoured her,” Leland said in annoyance. “How the devil should I know? She left a few minutes ago, and I’m not permitted to follow.”

“We must have just missed her,” Helena said. “She’s probably waiting for me downstairs.”

Daisy was waiting in the front hall. Her face was a bit paler than usual. “Are you well?” the earl asked.

“Very,” she said. “But it’s time to go.” She smiled at Helena. “I deserted the viscount when I realized that. I
am
learning proper behavior again; aren’t you proud of me?”

Helena would have been if she hadn’t seen the
distress beneath Daisy’s words. The woman might have lived a life that would harden most people beyond recognition, but she was still a transparent liar.

“There’s no way you won’t be the belle of the ball,” Helena said.

Daisy nodded glumly. There was no fault she could find with Madame Bertrand’s latest effort. Her gown was yellow, with a low neck and long sleeves, and a pink sash beneath her breasts to show her figure to advantage. Her hair was done up with pink roses, and her maid had dusted a puff of rouge across her cheekbones. It might have been too much by day, but she’d glow in lamp and candlelight.

“I don’t want to be sensational,” Daisy said. “I only want to be able to enjoy myself.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Helena asked.

Daisy hesitated. She’d been aching to talk to someone about her problem, but wasn’t used to confiding in anyone, much less trusting them. It was true Helena was older, and better acquainted with Society, and yet Daisy wasn’t sure she could share with her. It had been hard for Daisy since that morning she’d kissed Leland. She’d steeled herself, and had visited him again. They’d both pretended nothing had happened. But she could see the knowledge in his eyes, as well as the desire for more. She, too, felt the lure of him; it was intense and undeniable. It frightened her, and
she hated to be afraid. She knew he wouldn’t embarrass her in public. She was very worried about what might happen in private.

Daisy dismissed her maid and sat down on the edge of a chair. She picked a nonexistent thread from her skirt, smoothed it, and then without looking up, finally dared.

“What do you think of Viscount Haye?” she asked Helena. “I mean, really.”

“It’s not my place—”

“Bother!” Daisy said impatiently. “I asked, so it is.”

“So it is, I suppose,” Helena said. “Then I’ll tell you. I think he’s very attractive, though it’s hard to know precisely why.” She smiled. “He has the reputation of a rake, but he’s so amusing that it seems to be something he invented to laugh at. In brief, I’d say he’s charming and intelligent, and that for all his reputation, there’s no real harm in him.”

Daisy nodded. She pleated a bit of her skirt in her fingers. She had to ask more so that she’d know what to do next. The
ton
lived in a world alien to her, but not to Helena Masters. If she wanted to live in that world, she had to trust her companion. “He kissed me,” she told Helena. “How do I go on with him after that?”

Helena frowned. So did Daisy. She knew she’d asked a question that a girl of sixteen might, not one a widow would.

“You mean socially?” Helena asked carefully.

“Aye, that,” Daisy muttered. “And any other way.”

“Did you protest? Or slap him? Or…”

“
I
kissed him back,” Daisy said bitterly. “I can’t blame him except it was like he’d thrown some sort of spell over me. I didn’t protest, or slap him, but I did run away.”

“Was it so distasteful?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” Daisy said. “Well, I do,” she muttered to the floor. “It was nice, very nice. But I knew what comes after, so I got out of there fast as I could. There’s nothing worse than what comes after, and I want no part of it. The question is: How do I prevent it in future without getting him angry? Because I do like to see him and talk to him, and I will, because he’s Geoff’s good friend.”

She kept her eyes on the floor. The truth was, she couldn’t forget that kiss. For a miracle, it had actually tempted her to try for more. She’d left him before
that
madness, and madness it would be. But she couldn’t forget the feelings he had woken. She hadn’t felt them in years, since before Tanner, in fact. They weren’t desires she wanted, but she couldn’t repress them. They made her squirm and ache, and even came to her in dreams she tried to forget when she woke.

“So what do I do?” she asked, scowling fiercely. She’d planned every step of her way back to England, and it was hard to find something that might block her goal here at the last.

“Do you intend to do it again?” Helena asked. “I mean, kiss him?”

“God, no!” Daisy said.

Helena remained silent a moment. Then she cleared her throat. “Stealing a kiss from a grown woman who seems to know what she’s about isn’t such a sin,” she said. “Not even stealing two or three. Nor should it discourage your friendship with him if you make it clear it can’t happen again. But what concerns me is the rest of what you said.

“Daisy, ‘what comes after’ isn’t worse,” she said slowly. “Well, I suppose it is if you’re not married to the fellow and have no plans to be. You know what gossip is. But if it were done with discretion, no one would mind, or be surprised. You’re a widow, you have more leeway, and the viscount is a single man. Of course, it would be wrong to have an
affaire
with him. Apart from the risk of bearing a child, which I assume he would be clever enough to make less possible, if you had an
affaire
and he left you, someone might find out. That wouldn’t do wonders for your reputation. Actually, he’d be a brilliant match for you. He’s intelligent, wealthy, has excellent address, and he doesn’t have to answer to anyone. In fact, it would be quite a coup. But I don’t say it could be done. He’s defied matchmakers for years now.”

Daisy’s head snapped up. “I don’t want to
marry
him!” she said in horror. “All I want to
know is how to go on with him comfortably now after that kiss.”

“You go on as you did before,” Helena said. “He’ll understand so long as you make it clear, by word or attitude, that you don’t wish to have any more of it. But why do you say what comes after a kiss is so terrible?” she persisted. “It isn’t, it’s wonderful if you’ve the right man.”

“Wonderful?”
Daisy said in surprise. “No, thank you;
that
it is not. I suppose the viscount can’t help it because that’s the sort of man he is, a slave to his passions, and when he likes a woman all he can think of is having her. One of the best things about Geoff is that he likes me and yet doesn’t expect that sort of thing. Maybe because he’s older, maybe because he has such fine sensibilities, but he’s above that.”

Helena sat down quickly on a nearby chair. “Daisy!” she said breathlessly. “That’s just not so. I’m sure it isn’t. He’s a man; the fact that he’s older doesn’t mean he’s
dead.
Sensual pleasure is the right of any man of any age, and women, too. If the earl cared for a woman, naturally he’d want to have relations with her. I’m not saying he doesn’t care for you, because clearly he does. But maybe because he has fine sensibilities he wouldn’t steal a kiss unless he’d plans to marry you.”

Daisy fiddled with the pleat she’d made in her skirt. “The truth of it is, Helena, that I don’t like it.” She looked up with sudden hope. “But you’ll
agree that an older man doesn’t want to do it that often?”

Helena laughed in flustered surprise. “I don’t know. I really don’t. The best thing to do would be to ask him.”

“
Talk
about it?” Daisy asked in shock.

“Why not? If the moment’s right, of course. If you’re seriously considering marrying him, you must discuss it. It’s true Society may produce girls who have no idea of what to expect in the marriage bed. You do. The men you meet expect that. You’re a woman grown, a widow to boot. The earl, or any grown man, will have certain expectations. It wouldn’t be fair to enter into a marriage without discussing how you feel about the act of love with him first.”

“Act of love,”
Daisy muttered. “A pretty way of talking about a rude thing. It really is, you know. Like the way a person’s entrails work: It’s a thing of the body that polite people don’t discuss, unless they use flowery or scientific speech. I came from a place where people said what they meant. They didn’t say they had to find the ‘withdrawing room’ at the end of dinner, I can tell you that. And they didn’t talk about ‘the act of love,’ neither. Instead they said f—” She paused. “I suppose I am too much of a lady—or you are—for me to go on, so I won’t. But thank you. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”