The Heiress (13 page)

Jack sounded so sure, Daisy thought, sliding reluctantly into the seat next to her mother. Too sure for Daisy’s comfort, when her feelings were so confused. Yes, she wanted their baby to be born legitimate and have both a father and a mother in his or her life. But did she really want a husband? Or just a lover and a friend?

“What about you?” Charlotte asked Daisy steadily.
“Are you ready and willing to let Jack be the head of your household? Are you willing to gear your life to what he wants and says?”

Daisy would have laughed out loud at the outrageousness of the idea had her mother not been so serious. “Marriage doesn’t have to be a dictatorship,” Daisy countered stubbornly. In fact, that was one of her major frustrations, that Charlotte always deferred to Richard’s wishes, even when Daisy could see Charlotte not only disagreed but was in the right.

Charlotte took a delicate sip from the faded Vanderbilt Law School mug. “Your father and I expect you and Jack to either come to your senses immediately and annul this quickly and quietly—”

“Or what?” Daisy asked, knowing full well there was more. Lots more to the ultimatum being delivered to her.

Charlotte set her mug back on the table and regarded Daisy evenly. “Or act like rational adults and show the world this is indeed the real deal.”

Daisy didn’t even have to ask what Richard and Charlotte wanted. Her “father” wanted her to wed only on his timetable, to whatever moneybags he personally selected for her, and the disappointed look in Charlotte’s eyes gave her mother’s feelings away. “You want me to end it, too, don’t you?” Daisy guessed quietly.

Charlotte hesitated and glanced at Jack as if not wanting to offend him, when he at least had been so cordial to her. Turning back to Daisy, Charlotte said gently but bluntly, “Honey, a life without the kind of money you are used to is no life at all.”

Meaning, Daisy thought, as long as she was married to Jack, her parents would not reinstate her trust fund,
or give her access to her multimillion dollar inheritance. She’d have to live off what she and Jack earned, and while that was certainly more than adequate, it wasn’t the same as being an heiress.

Daisy glanced heavenward, almost too exasperated to speak. “And what would you know about that, Mother?” Daisy baited emotionally, annoyed to find herself having to defend her actions to her exceedingly uptight adoptive parents yet again. “You and Father were both born with silver spoons in your mouths. You both come from very old money.”

“Well, I suppose technically that’s so, but—”

“But what?” Daisy asked when her mother stopped in midsentence.

Charlotte glanced at Jack cautiously.

“You can trust him, Mother,” Daisy said impatiently. “He’s not just my husband, and as such the newest member of the Templeton family, he’s a company counsel for the Deveraux-Heyward Shipping Company. He knows how to keep a secret.”

Jack nodded, letting Charlotte Templeton know this was so. “Nothing said here today will leave this room.”

Charlotte took a deep breath and pushed on reluctantly, wringing her hands all the while. “I’ve never told you this, Daisy. I’ve never told anyone, but our life was not always luxurious.”

“Meaning what exactly?” Daisy said in mounting frustration.

“Meaning,” Charlotte continued in a strangled voice, “unbeknownst to Richard and I, both your father’s family and mine were slowly going broke when they arranged for us to marry. Our mutual near poverty was a cruel irony we discovered only after we had mar
ried, in one of the biggest and most lavish weddings Charleston had ever seen.”

Daisy recalled seeing the photos. Both Charlotte and Richard had looked ecstatic at the time, so different than they looked today.

Appearing determined to bring Daisy around to her way of thinking, Charlotte continued her recitation sadly, “For years we struggled, amassing more and more debt as we tried to keep up appearances and hold on to both Rosewood, your father’s family estate, and our home in the city, which was my family’s residence. It was such a relief when we finally got things turned around.” Charlotte paused, biting her lip emotionally. “I never wanted you to have to suffer that way, darling.”

Daisy could tell by the look on Charlotte’s face that it had indeed been difficult for a woman accustomed to having only the very best, but that didn’t mean that Daisy agreed with Charlotte. In fact, Daisy thought her mother was dead wrong. “We’ll be fine,” Daisy returned.

Again, Charlotte shook her head. She looked even more distressed. “Daisy, you’re used to fine things, designer clothes. The money to travel and do whatever you like. Whether you realize it or not right now, those things are the key to your happiness.”

Wrong, Daisy thought. She would have traded it all when she was growing up—the money, the social position, the entrée to all the best schools and parties—to live in a house filled with love and laughter with parents who were warm and loving and understanding. Where what mattered was sticking up for each other through thick and thin instead of worrying about what the others in blue-blooded Charleston society would think. With
out trying to have the most luxuriously decorated houses, the most exclusive parties, the best lifestyle, the most lavish vacations. But that would never be the case in Charlotte and Richard’s home, where separate bedrooms for the mistress and master of the house were the norm, and Charlotte filled her emotional needs by doing good deeds for others.

Charlotte leaned forward earnestly and caught Daisy’s hand. “It’s still not too late, Daisy. Your father and I can make a good match for you, just like we made a good match for your sister, Iris.”

Daisy just bet they could. She wasn’t, however, about to let them. She pulled her hand away from her mother’s and bolted from her chair. “Randolph Hayes IV was an old goat,” she declared flatly.

Charlotte looked as horrified as always by Daisy’s outspokenness. “Daisy, I won’t have you talking that way about such a fine man.”

Daisy made a face as she continued to pace the breakfast room. “That man was thirty years older than Iris, Mother! He spent the last fifteen years of their life together in a wheelchair, surrounded by a bevy of male nurses.” What kind of marriage was that for someone as young and vital as Iris? Daisy wondered, upset. Especially when there was no love, no companionship or true friendship whatsoever involved, at least not that she could see.

Charlotte glared at Daisy. “Randolph was also very very good to Iris financially. And unlike many lusty young husbands, he didn’t run around on her.”

With good reason, Daisy thought. There was no way Randolph Hayes had been capable of the sex act in his frail condition. Absolutely no friggin’ way. Not that sex seemed to matter at all to Iris after what Daisy now
knew was Iris’s failed love affair with Tom. No, Iris had seemed content to live the life of a dedicated career woman, albeit a very rich and privately lonely one. Just as Daisy probably would have done if she hadn’t met Jack and learned just how great lovemaking with a handsome, virile, kind man could be.

Not that she should let herself get used to such incredible pleasure, in any case, Daisy reminded herself wearily. Not when she and Jack were together because of a night of reckless passion, and the baby who’d resulted, and that was all. Not when—like everything else important or valuable in her life—it could all be taken away from her at any moment. Leaving her bereft and alone.

“What are you thinking, dear?” Charlotte asked while Jack looked at Daisy as if wondering the very same thing.

That I could tell you about the pregnancy, and the cries for an immediate end to my marriage to Jack would probably stop.
But Daisy didn’t want to make things even worse than what they were, because contrary to popular opinion, she did not enjoy fighting with Richard and Charlotte, or bringing their considerable disapproval down on her shoulders. Not at all.

Aware Charlotte and Jack were both still waiting for her answer, Daisy drew a deep, bolstering breath and looked her mother straight in the eye. “I’m not going to get an annulment, Mother. I made the decision to marry Jack and I’m sticking to it.”

Charlotte took a moment to absorb that. She handled the news with amazing tranquillity. “Well, then—” Charlotte gave them both a bracing smile “—I guess we move forward with the official announcement of your marriage.”

Daisy held up a hand, stop-sign fashion. “There’s no need for that, Mother. Word will get around.”

As always when she disagreed, Charlotte simply ignored Daisy’s protests and charged on. “Your father and I were already planning a soiree tonight with one hundred of our dearest friends. We will simply use that party to honor you and your new husband,” Charlotte said calmly. Charlotte looked at Jack. “The dress is formal. I assume you have a tuxedo?”

Jack nodded, suddenly looking, Daisy thought, every bit as tense and wary as she felt.

“Please be sure you wear it, then.” Charlotte smiled at Jack, then turned to Daisy as she rose with quiet dignity and prepared to take her leave. “Cocktails will be served at eight. We would like you both there then.”

“T
HAT WAS IT
?” Jack said moments later, as soon as Charlotte had left. “Your parents are going to accept our marriage just like that?” He seemed stunned by Charlotte’s about-face.

Well used to her parents’ defensive actions by now, Daisy shrugged and leaned back against the kitchen counter. She folded her arms in front of her. “They don’t want a scandal. They’ll do anything they can to avoid that, even if it means sweeping their true feelings about what we’ve gone and done under the rug. They are both ever so efficient at that.”

Jack studied her with a half smile. Finally, he shrugged. “Do you want to even go to the party then, knowing they aren’t sincere?”

As if it were that simple, Daisy thought with no small trace of irony. Doing her best to keep the bitterness out of her voice, she said, “I have to.”

“Why?” Jack cupped gentle hands around her shoul
ders. “If it’s going to stress you out and make you unhappy?”

Oh, she liked how this man thought, how he constantly wanted to protect her, even if his approach was wrong, wrong, wrong. Aware he was waiting for an answer, as well as an explanation, Daisy released a beleaguered sigh and let him take her all the way into his arms. “Because they won’t give up on the idea until they do publicly honor us in some way. They have their reputations to maintain, you see, and if we don’t show up, it will only make gossip worse. Which in turn will cause Charlotte to hound me, and sic both Connor and Iris on me, as well. And, as if all that were not enough, I would then be called in to receive some stern lecture from my adoptive fath—from Richard.” Daisy let her head fall forward to rest on the solidness of Jack’s chest. “It’s easier to just go tonight and get it over with, and be done with it.”

“Is that the only reason?” Jack asked, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down her back.

Daisy cuddled closer to Jack’s warmth. “It’s not like they could disinherit me,” she murmured against his chest. “They’ve already done that. They cut off my access to my trust fund months ago when I refused to call off my search for my birth parents.”

Jack tucked a hand beneath her chin and tilted her head up to his. “You know what I mean,” he said softly.

When they were close like this, Daisy found it hard not to smile. “Actually, I’m not sure I do.”

Jack inclined his head slightly to the side. “Maybe now that you do know the truth about yourself, and why they did what they did, even if it was misguided,” he suggested softly and compassionately, “you’d secretly
like to make up with them. Let bygones be bygones. They are your family, after all.”

How had he known? Daisy wondered. And why did it bother her so much that he did see that vulnerability in her, the need to be liked and loved and accepted by Richard and Charlotte, the way she had always longed to be, and had never been in the past. Even when she was seven and too young and too sweet and too innocent to cause much trouble at all. Even then, her family had—with the exception of her decade-older brother Connor—looked at her as if there was something wrong with her that only they could see, something not quite acceptable. And Daisy had felt their mute disaffection to her bones.

Eventually figuring if she wasn’t going to be liked for herself anyway, she might as well do something to make herself unlovable in their eyes, she had begun acting out. That way, she had reasoned subconsciously as a very young child and a teenager, at least her world sort of made sense. Then she had known precisely why they were unhappy with her—she hadn’t used proper table manners, she had sworn in front of the ladies at tea, she had tracked mud on the one-hundred-year-old Aubusson rug in the grand foyer. It had been, while she was growing up, a lot easier to simply misbehave and take her punishment than go on wondering if they were looking at her funny or distastefully because they just didn’t like her nose. Or more likely still, knew something shameful or awful about her mysterious beginnings they just didn’t want
her
to ever know.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Daisy said. As much as she might want it to… Daisy sighed, shook her head. “I gave up wishing for the impossible years ago. But
as for the party tonight—that might not be so bad.” And, in fact, Daisy thought with her customary perverseness kicking in, it might be fun to watch them squirm.

T
HAT EVENING
, Daisy insisted Jack dress and shower first, then shooed him out of the master bedroom and bath. An hour later, he decided it had been worth the wait. Daisy was absolutely gorgeous, and she smelled every bit as glamorous and sexy as she looked as she swirled around, giving him the full view of her evening attire.

As Daisy ended her pirouette, she paused. Some of the pleasure left her eyes. “You don’t like it. Do you?”

On the contrary, he thought, sorry he had inadvertently hurt her feelings. He liked the way she looked, maybe too much. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said, studying the silky white stretch tank top that cupped her small high breasts like a lover’s hands, and ankle-length pale blue chiffon skirt with the uneven ruffle at the hem. “You look absolutely stunning.” And more like the incredibly wealthy heiress she had grown up to be. The one that was way, way out of his league.

“Thank you.” Daisy beamed, pleased. “It’s something I’ve had for a while and it’s Armani.”

“But—”

Daisy grinned mischievously, knowing full well what he was about to say as she went up on tiptoe to lightly, teasingly brush his lips with hers. “My navel is showing?”

Fighting the urge to say the hell with the damn party
and appeasing the Templetons, and take her right back to bed, where the two of them communicated best anyway, Jack caught her against him, so the softness of her breasts were pressed against his chest. He wanted to kiss her until she couldn’t so much as catch her breath, but he couldn’t do that when they would be attending a very proper party announcing their marriage. So Jack told himself reluctantly, the lovemaking would have to wait for a more appropriate time, while the two of them dealt with the dilemma at hand.

He looked down at her sternly. “Somehow, I doubt this—” enjoying the silky feel of her fair freckled flesh, Jack dragged his palm lightly across the exposed skin of her still-flat abdomen and felt her quiver in response “—is what your mother had in mind, Daisy.” In fact, Jack was certain that Charlotte and Richard both would expect Daisy to show up tonight in something a lot more conservative than what she had on now. But that was apparently tough, as far as his new wife was concerned. If Daisy was going to do this, she was apparently going to do it the way she did everything else—on her terms.

Jack tried not to think how this latest rebellion of Daisy’s might complicate things as Daisy shrugged. “I’ve got to be me,” she announced as if that were that. “You look nice.” She turned her attention to straightening his bow tie.

Her expression admiring, Daisy ran her hands over the expensive black fabric, caressing his shoulders and chest. “It looks new.”

It was his turn to shrug as he said gruffly, “I didn’t want to embarrass you—or your folks. And I figured, given the way we got married…” He left the thought hanging.

Daisy’s eyes sparkled as she fervently leaped to his defense. “You wouldn’t embarrass me if you went to the party in beach shorts.”

Jack grinned at the hilarious image that conjured up. He had a feeling that was about what the Templetons expected, given the fact he had more or less grown up on the docks. And if not for Tom Deveraux’s mentorship and steady belief in him, might still be there, too. But that was neither here nor there. Knowing they were already late, and this would probably be frowned on, too, Jack offered Daisy his arm. “I can see where you’d get a charge out of that,” he commented dryly. Jack had been trailing Daisy long enough to know there was nothing she’d liked better than to create a stir when things got too oppressive. One thing was certain, Jack thought. Life would never be dull as her husband.

Jack could tell by the way Daisy babbled nonstop during the drive to the Templetons’ residence that she was nervous. As he listened to her cheerful monologue, he laughed occasionally, smiled often and silently promised to make the evening as easy as he could on her. Lord knew, her adoptive parents wouldn’t. And that was a feeling confirmed the moment Jack was taken through the crowd of guests into an alcove beneath the stairs and introduced to Richard Templeton. “So, you’re the upstart who eloped with my Daisy,” Richard said. His tone and cordial smile said he was teasing, his eyes did not. They were cold, assessing and hard as flint.

Daisy looked uneasy. She might not care so much about herself, but it was clear she didn’t want Jack taking any slings and arrows from Richard. Tensing visibly, she asked Richard with remarkable poise under the circumstances, “Have you made an announcement?”

“I’m about to.” Ignoring the hurt radiating from Daisy’s eyes, Richard stepped up onto the grand staircase that divided the formal rooms at the front of the mansion where a hundred or so guests were all circulating, champagne glasses in hand. With a nod, he indicated Daisy and Jack should both join him then gestured broadly and waited until he had everyone’s attention.

“You all know our beloved Daisy,” Richard said as a white-coated waiter handed Daisy and Jack each a crystal flute of champagne. “What you may not know is that her last name is no longer Templeton. It’s now Templeton-Granger.” Richard smiled as if genuinely happy as a murmur of surprise swept through the formally dressed crowd. “Daisy and Jack eloped in Tahoe a few days ago. She didn’t give us a chance to give her a proper wedding, but Charlotte and I are determined to make up for that, and plan to give Daisy and her new husband something very special from our private stock of antiques at Rosewood—”

An envious murmur swept through the crowd.

Doing an excellent job of feigning both warmth and delight, Richard turned to Jack and Daisy. “So let’s lift our glasses to them in toast. Daisy, Jack…we all wish you the very best.”

Richard’s words were seconded by the crowd as glasses clinked all around and everyone smiled and sipped champagne. Richard Templeton put a proprietary arm around Daisy’s shoulders, and, leaving Jack to follow in their wake, proceeded to take Daisy through the crowd so their guests could congratulate them one by one. On the surface, Jack noted, Daisy appeared to handle it well. But he could tell by the tense set of her shoulders and the slight brittleness of her smile that she
was just going through the motions for her family’s sake. And that she resented the absence of her older sister Iris.

After about fifteen minutes of playing the doting father, Richard left Jack and Daisy to circulate on their own. They had just made their way back to the front hall, when the fifty-something Winnifred Deveraux-Smith, the social doyenne of Charleston, and her long-lost great-aunt Eleanor Deveraux, about whom all of Charleston was still buzzing, entered.

Jack wasn’t surprised to see both women there. A party wasn’t truly considered on the A-list unless Winnifred showed up. And since Winnifred and Charlotte Templeton both chaired steering committees on all the most important charitable organizations in the city, it made sense Tom’s sister had been invited. Winnifred and the eighty-year-old Eleanor made a beeline for Daisy. Looking as stunning as usual in a shimmering red evening gown, the dark-haired Winnifred made introductions briefly then said cheerfully, “What have we missed? Anything?”

Daisy looked at one of the true beauties of that generation and said quickly, as if wanting to get it over with, “Jack and I got married.”

Given the compassionate understanding way Winnifred was looking at them, Jack guessed Tom had finally confided the situation with him and Daisy and Iris and Grace to his only sister, something he had apparently been reluctant to do until now. However, the rest of the Deveraux family seemed suspiciously absent from the gala.

But Tom hadn’t yet told Winnifred about the marriage. And about
that
Winnifred Deveraux was very surprised.

“When?” Winnifred gasped, still looking a little stunned. Beside her, the frail but energetic-looking Eleanor simply looked pleased.

Daisy’s cheeks flushed slightly at the romantic expression on Winnifred’s face. Jack knew how Daisy felt. He kept wanting to correct people, too, so it wouldn’t feel so much like they were simply lovers, living a lie. “A few days ago in Tahoe,” she said.

Winnifred turned back to Jack, politely doing her best to hide her concern. “How does my brother feel about the nuptials?” she asked.

Good question. The cynical part of Jack was still waiting for another punch to the jaw, while the naive kid in him—the kid who had looked up to Tom for what seemed like forever—kept hoping it would all work out for the best in the end. And that he and his boss could put all the disillusionment and disappointment behind them. Not quite sure how to answer the woman, Jack said finally, “I think he’s still getting used to the idea.”

Ever the romantic at heart, Winnifred smiled. “Well, you two will simply have to come by for dinner some evening and tell Eleanor and me all about it.”

Jack smiled back, knowing the invitation was a genuine one. “What have you two grand ladies been up to?”

“Well, this afternoon, Eleanor and I were over at 10 Gathering Street. Lauren and Mitch were showing us their plans for the secret room.”

Jack knew, as did Daisy, they were referring to Tom and Grace’s son Mitch and his wife, Lauren. Lauren had received the historic twenty-four-room mansion as a gift from her father, Peyton Heyward, in exchange for dating Mitch for one week. Lauren and Mitch had ini
tially resisted the plan—which had smacked of an arranged marriage from days of old—but eventually they agreed to Peyton Heyward’s terms when Peyton also promised a business merger of the Heyward and Deveraux shipping firms, which Mitch had wanted for some time. Neither Mitch nor Lauren had expected to fall in love with each other during their week of prearranged marathon dating, but they had, and now were married and living happily ever after in the gifted mansion.

“What secret room?” Daisy interrupted curiously.

“The one behind the library, where I used to tryst with Captain Douglas Nyquist,” Eleanor said, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes that oddly enough reminded Jack very much of Daisy. Yet another indication, he supposed, of the Deveraux blood coursing through her veins.

“I visited there undetected for years,” Eleanor said as she used her silver-handled walking cane to ease into a chair, “because no one knew about the room or the secret passageway leading to it from the garden. But when Lauren received the house from her father last spring, she found both. As well as all the mementos of my love affair that I had hidden there. Of course, it caused quite a stir in the family, because at that time they didn’t know I was still around.” Eleanor smiled, reminding Jack and Daisy how she had faked her own death years before to escape the terrible scandal and resulting curse surrounding her ill-fated love affair. “But now they do, and they’ve welcomed me with open arms.”

Jack knew that to be true. The delightful Eleanor had quickly become a treasured member of the Deveraux clan once again. And the legacy of failed love that had followed the Deveraux for years had also been broken,
as all four of Tom and Grace’s legitimate offspring were now very much in love and happily married.

“How wonderful that you’ve become a part of the family again,” Daisy said sincerely as she pulled up a chair to sit beside Eleanor. “And how romantic to actually have rendezvoused in a secret room!”

Jack could see where the clandestine nature of such an affair would appeal to his adventure-loving wife. Happy to talk about something other than her elopement for a change, Daisy continued chatting with Eleanor. “I used to look for secret passageways in this house when I was a kid,” Daisy said, “but I could never find any.”

“Neither could I,” Connor said, coming up to join them. He gave Daisy a hug. “Hey, sis.”

“Hey yourself, Connor.”

“Jack.” Connor shook Jack’s hand.

“Do you have any secret places in your house?” Daisy asked Winnifred.

“No secret rooms, but we do have a passageway from the attic that leads to the outside.” Winnifred smiled. “When you and Jack drop by, I’ll show it to you.”

“If memory serves, there was one at Rosewood, too,” Eleanor said.

“You’re kidding!” Daisy turned to Richard, who had noticed Winnifred and Eleanor’s arrival and come over to welcome them. Daisy looked at Richard, her eyes shining with excitement. “Eleanor says that there’s a secret room at Rosewood.”

Richard cut off Daisy’s enthusiasm with a genial shake of his head and discounting smile. “That rumor has been around for years, but there is absolutely no truth to it. I know that mansion inside out. There are
no secret rooms or passageways, or if there were, they were uncovered and opened up years ago. I’ve had it checked out by an architect and a structural engineer.”

Before he could go on, a guy with a camera slung around his neck and a notepad in his hand, pushed his way forward. Daisy turned to get a look at the tuxedo-clad interloper. And all the color drained from her face.

F
OR A LOT OF REASONS
, Bucky Jerome was the last person Daisy wanted to see tonight.

“And here I thought tonight was going to be just another party,” Bucky remarked with a cheerful smile that didn’t fool Daisy in the least. He lifted his camera and snapped what had to be a particularly unflattering picture of her and Jack standing side by side. “Just so you’ll all know to look for it—” Bucky let the camera fall back against his chest “—that will be in tomorrow’s newspaper.”

“Great,” Daisy said. That was just what she needed. Another item about herself on the society page.

Bucky picked up his pad and pen. He looked Daisy over from head to toe in a way that was not only bound to irk Jack but reminded her of things she would much rather forget. “So how long have the two of you been seeing each other?” he asked in a bored, disrespectful tone.

“Long enough,” Daisy said tensely, wishing Bucky Jerome would just go away. And stay away. Before the conversation turned any more personal.

Bucky turned to Jack. Waited for what seemed an interminable length of time before Jack deigned to answer.

“Daisy and I like our private life to stay private,”
Jack replied politely. “So just report the facts—that we eloped in Tahoe—and leave it at that.”