Daisy and the Duke by Elizabeth Cole
Chapter 17
At Wildwood Hall, Daisy hadfinished teaching French lessons for the day, and helping the younger students with their reading as well. It was a tenet of Bloomfield’s Academy for Young Ladies of Quality that everyone had a duty to serve to the best of her ability. Daisy took that tenet to heart perhaps more than any other, for she loved to see people smile when their burdens were lightened even for a little while. It soothed her own aching heart.
For just over a week now, Daisy had been employed as an instructor, primarily for the younger girls. She was grateful to have any position. She would have worked as a maid. Mrs. Bloomfield merely laughed at that notion, telling Daisy that teaching little girls to be young ladies was quite grueling enough.
“You’ll have your hands full,” Mrs. Bloomfield said. Which was true. Daisy worked as hard as possible, not just to prove herself to Mrs. Bloomfield, but also to try to forget why she was at Wildwood Hall in the first place.
That was a more difficult task, for whenever she closed her eyes, she saw Tristan. And every time she heard a footstep or an approaching voice, she worried it was someone come to find her and haul her back for questioning.
At dinner one night, when the instructors who lived at the school all gathered for blessedly grown-up conversation, Daisy asked what she ought to do next. She was well aware that she could not remain at the school forever.
“You could go to London,” suggested Mrs. Cannon, a gray-haired woman who taught mathematics, Latin, and Greek to the older girls. “Find a position as governess. But London is a terrible place.” She shuddered at the thought of living in the city.
“It’s not a terrible place,” Mrs. Bloomfield said with a chuckle. “And some of Daisy’s good friends live there, so she’d not be without company. But the life of a governess is perhaps not fulfilling enough for a young lady like Daisy, who has other interests and skills.”
“Not to mention that a letter of reference will be hard to come by,” Mrs. Cannon muttered.
“Really, dear,” Mrs. Bloomfield said, “it would be best if you returned to your home to sort this mess out. We know you’re innocent of any charges of theft—the whole idea is ludicrous—but the longer you stay away, the more difficult it will be to settle the matter.”
Daisy looked down at her plate, where most of her meal remained uneaten. “I know that would be the right thing to do, but I’m not brave enough to trust that I’ll get a fair hearing. My stepmother seemed to believe it, and the vicar is very influential, and the duke said nothing to support me…” That hurt worse than anything. Though Daisy had kept the full extent of her relationship with Tristan to herself, Mrs. Bloomfield certainly understood that she had fallen in love with him, and was worse off for it.
“You need someone who knows the law to defend you,” Mrs. Cannon said.
“And where would she locate a man willing to take that case on, against a baroness and a duke and the whole shire?” Mrs. Bloomfield frowned. “I wish I had funds to pay for such a person, but I’m afraid…”
“Oh, no!” Daisy put her fork down, rather more forcefully than she intended. “You have been so kind to take me in. You mustn’t spend a penny more on me. I promise I will decide what to do soon…just not yet.”
“You may stay here as long as needed,” Mrs. Bloomfield said, patting her hand. “But remember, the world rarely waits until a person is ready for it.”
Daisy nodded. How true. She didn’t feel prepared for a single thing that happened to her lately, whether it was meeting Tristan in the woods one day, or being showered with a mysterious gift, to being accused of theft in front of the whole county…
But at least Wildwood Hall was a haven. Daisy was so grateful to be there, among the young students and the familiar rooms and the books in the library that she’d read years before. One day, the youngest class decided to play hide and seek. The weather had turned cold, so no one could hide in the gardens, like Daisy had done when she played it. But the many corners and tucked away closets of the Hall provided many hiding spots, and squeals echoed through the building as girls found each other.
It was a fun game…as long as one did not mind being found. Daisy briefly imagined playing such a game at Lyondale, perhaps with a little girl who had her blond hair and Tristan’s eyes.
The thought swept her back to the night they’d lain together, and how she’d been so overcome with passion that she threw all her good sense to the wind just to be with him. Was she possibly pregnant now? After only one time? Daisy knew it was possible, though unlikely. Tristan had taken care to avoid the outcome. And even if she were, would she ever approach Tristan and tell him? A duke would probably not welcome news of a bastard, though she guessed that Tristan would support the child. But Daisy was not at all sure she’d want him to know. In fact, she wasn’t sure of anything, except that she ached for Tristan, and would give just about anything to hear him say her name again. Or to kiss her and tell her that everything would be fine, and that their troubles were over. And then he’d sweep her into his arms and kiss her…
“Miss Merriot?”
“Yes!” Daisy’s attention snapped back to the present moment. “What is it, Joanna?”
“The headmistress would like to see you in her office,” the younger girl said, eyes round at the thought of going to such an august place. “She didn’t say why.”
“Ah, must be a new student coming to Wildwood. I’m to give the tours now.” Daisy put her book away and rose to her feet, gently running her palms across her skirt to flatten out any wrinkles. Since she had very little clothing to her name now, she treated everything she did own with utmost care.
She took a quick glance at the mirror to be sure her hair was in place, and that the younger students had not left paint on her nose. All she saw was her own plain face, her cheeks a little pinker than proper for a lady.
When she reached the office door, Daisy knocked politely. “It’s Daisy, Mrs. Bloomfield.”
“Come in, come in.”
Daisy entered and sat on the polished walnut chair across the vast desk. She was in no fear that she’d done anything wrong, but she could not think why she’d been summoned.
“Daisy, you have a visitor.”
Mrs. Bloomfield turned in her seat to indicate a figure standing by the window. Daisy hadn’t noticed anyone until now, but her heart dropped to her stomach when she saw Tristan in the light.
“Miss Merriot,” he said, very formally. “I was hoping we could speak.”
“Your g-grace,” she stammered out. “I did not expect…”
“No you wouldn’t, considering that you didn’t tell anyone where you went, and I’ve got a lot questions about how you managed it.” As he spoke, he approached her, and Daisy instinctively leaned back, expecting censure.
But Tristan stopped short a few feet away and bent his head down in supplication. “But none of that really matters now. What matters is that you hear me out.”
“Hear you out?” she echoed, confused. Wasn’t she the one in trouble?
“Perhaps you two would like to take a stroll around the grounds,” Mrs. Bloomfield suggested. “Meet me back here in a half hour so we may discuss the next steps.” Her meaning was clear—Tristan could talk to Daisy in relative privacy, but no misbehavior would be tolerated.
Tristan was still wearing his coat, so Daisy murmured that she’d fetch her cape before they went outside.
The gardens of Wildwood Hall were quiet, the plants dried and brown, the trees bare. Winter hovered, about to sweep in any day now. Daisy walked down the brick paths, unable to say a word. At last, Tristan said, “You have no idea what it’s been like since you left. Never has a person vanished so completely. I thought you were dead.”
“How did you find me?”
“Miss Bella remembered the school and suggested you might have come here.”
“So you rode out here on a whim?”
“I’d ride over the whole island to find you,” he said simply, and Daisy’s heart pounded at the emotion in his words.
“I was scared,” she admitted.
“Understandable, but my God, Daisy, you scared the hell out of me by disappearing like that.”
“My apologies, your grace. It was not my intent to worry anyone.”
He stopped and took her by the shoulders to make her face him. “No, I’m the one who needs to apologize. I should have defended you at that moment, but I didn’t. I failed you, Daisy. It was a mistake.”
Daisy felt wounded. Was he going to apologize for the time they made love? “Don’t apologize for that, your grace. I encouraged you by going with you to your room.”
“I’m not going to apologize for that, Daisy.” He held her hands, as if afraid she’d vanish if he let her get too far away.
“Then what?”
“For not being there where you needed me. For being so…useless in the one moment I should have been defending you. Forgive me.”
She felt a bit stunned, so all she said was, “I never blamed you for that. You were suffering. It wasn’t your fault. Tristan, it’s not up to you to defend me.”
“It is,” he said. “And I promise that I’ll set everything right.”
“How can you do that? The law will take its course…”
He shook his head, pushing her words aside. “Daisy, listen. It is very important that you return to Lyondale.”
“I’d rather not,” Daisy said. Hornthwaite and the baroness might well be assembling witnesses against her at that very hour. “I don’t think I am wanted there.”
“I want you there, and I will not let anything happen to you, Daisy. Please trust me.”
Daisy’s stomach was in knots, and she wanted so badly to believe Tristan. But a part of her held back. “I don’t know.”
“How can I convince you?” Tristan suddenly bent his head, gathered her close, and kissed her. Daisy protested for half a second before her body melted in response to his touch. She raised her hands to his chest, feeling the rise and fall as his breathing quickened. Her eyes closed as she reveled in the touch of his lips on hers. This was what she wanted, Tristan and her together, entwined, forever.
But she broke off, whispering, “We can’t do this here.”
“Then come back to Lyondale,” he countered. “I will set things right, my love. I’ve been working and Jack’s been working, and others too. We will get to the truth, but I need you there. Please. I swear I’ll never betray your trust again.”
The look in his eyes undid her, and she would have promised him anything in that moment. She took a deep breath, then nodded. “Very well, I will return.”
But what would she walk into when she arrived?