Edith Layton (12 page)

“Please feel free to talk about it with me any time,” Helena said “But more important, please
remember you can talk about it with anyone you think might one day be a lover.”

“Little chance of that!” Daisy said.

Helena’s expression was sympathetic. “Was it so bad then?”

“Then? Oh yes,” Daisy said. She remembered Tanner’s groping hands and insistent body, and shuddered. “I didn’t like him, and so you can imagine how much I didn’t like
that
with him.” She gave Helena a clear-eyed look. “I’m not so stupid that I don’t think it might be different for different people, or with different people. But honestly, I don’t even like to think about it. Still, if and when Geoff asks me to marry him, I wouldn’t lie to him.”

She took a deep breath. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. In the meanwhile, thank you.”

Helena nodded, but looked troubled.

Daisy went back to the dressing table and fiddled with a rose in her hair, pretending it had come loose. She thought about seeing Geoff tonight, and thought that, yes, fair was fair. It was a thing she should talk about with him someday. He was so kind and gentle, she thought she could.

She thought about seeing Leland Grant tonight, and shivered, but not in revulsion. He made her forget what she was afraid of. That was amazing, and dangerous. And yet…Daisy wondered. Sometimes in the past she’d thought about how it would be with someone she cared for. How
would it be with someone who amused her? Just the fact that she was considering it could mean that she wouldn’t always find the act hideous. Maybe there was something to it. All she knew of it, after all, she learned from Tanner’s hands.

Daisy pushed Tanner from her mind. He was gone. And there were things here that she hadn’t imagined, so why couldn’t enjoyment in
that
be one of them, after all?

Helena said there was no harm in a kiss. Against all odds, Viscount Haye made Daisy wonder if there could be pleasure in one—or two.

I
t was not a party. Leland smiled, the earl groaned, and Daisy gasped. The dowager viscountess Haye had invited them to what looked like a grand ball.

“Are you sure you feel well enough to go to attend?” Daisy asked again, as the carriage stopped.

“As I said, yes,” Leland said in bored tones. “There’s nothing left of my wound but the memory.”

“Well, I think I have to go home and change,” Daisy said nervously when she peered out the window to see the long line of carriages ahead of theirs, waiting to discharge their passengers at the front door to his mother’s town house.

“I think you look not only proper, but wonderful,” Helena said from her quiet corner of the coach.

Daisy shook her head. “No. I’ll look downright shabby at a ball.” She thought of the golden gown she’d never dared wear and breathed a silent sigh of relief. If they’d let her go back, she could get herself up in it and look like she belonged.

Leland laughed. “It’s not a ball. It is, however, my mama’s idea of a party. There’s no dancing, unless someone gets drunk enough to bribe the fiddlers she has on hand to play a sprightlier tune. But they’d waste their money. There won’t be room to pick up a coin if you drop it. It’s just a fashionable
do,
with food and conversation, and it would never do to go to it dressed to the nines.”

“Gads!” the earl exclaimed, looking at the torchlights outside and the windows inside the house ablaze with light. “It looks like an anthill that was set on fire.”

“It will feel like one, too,” Leland said. “We won’t have to stay long but I think you ought to attend, my lord.
You’ll
be the belle of the ball. Everyone in my mama’s circle wants to see you; you’ve made yourself scarce to them. I can’t blame you for that, but it makes it an excellent place to bring Daisy. They’ll be so busy quizzing you, they won’t have a chance to gape at her. She’ll be eased into Society and plucked out again before her feet get too wet.”

“Very well,” the earl said, “If it’s for Daisy, I’ll do it.”

He smiled, and so did Daisy. But Leland, watching them, did not.

“My lord, how kind of you to come to my little soirée,” the viscountess said, as the earl bowed to her.

The babble of voices was so loud, Daisy could hardly hear what her hostess said. Still, when Geoff gestured to her, she inclined her head in a brief bow to the viscountess. She didn’t like this kind of party any more than Geoff did, but while he knew he’d always be accepted here, she had to find out if she could be.

“Mrs. Tanner,” the dowager said coolly. “How lovely you look this evening.” She ignored Helena completely, and turned to speak to her son. “Haye,” she said, “so you grace us with your presence, do you?”

He bowed. “As you see, Mama.”

For a moment there was, in the middle of all that babble, a complete silence among the viscountess, her son, the earl, and Daisy. Then the dowager turned to greet another new arrival.

“It’s done,” Leland told Daisy as they moved away. “Now, all you have to do is make nonsensical conversation with anyone who speaks to you. Don’t worry; no one will talk to you above a minute or two. The idea is to talk to as many people as possible, so you don’t miss anything.”

“Gads,” the earl said.

Daisy looked around. There were masses of people everywhere: on the stairs, in chairs, and standing in groups that kept changing. The men dressed in black, blue, dun, and gray, with only an occasional glimpse of a red waistcoat to liven them up. She was surprised to see so few dandies, tulips of the
ton,
or Corinthians, because she’d expect those paragons of fashion to be at such a party. But most of the male guests were older men, and most were dressed conservatively.

She’d also expected to see gaggles of young women in white, as befit ladies in their first Seasons on the Town, and had wondered if there were any she could speak to since she wasn’t that much older herself. But she saw only a few dispirited-looking young girls. There were many more women of a certain age, wearing gowns in every color of the rainbow. Many wore large plumes in their hair that bobbed up and down as they talked, as though they were weird birds of some sort, pecking at something on the ground. And how they talked!

It wasn’t hot so much as airless, or loud so much as deafening.

Daisy nodded her greetings to everyone she was introduced to, but none of them seemed interested in her. It was the earl they’d come to see. He was immediately cornered by a pair of old neighbors who kept asking him questions about
how he’d been keeping. Then an elderly couple greeted him and told him stories about their son, whom he’d evidently known in his youth. And then a trio of gentlemen, friends from his schooldays, wanted to know if he meant to stay on in London or if he’d visit with them in their country homes.

Daisy found herself standing apart, not knowing what to do. She tried to entertain herself. There was no way to see what the viscountess’s home really looked like because of the crowd. She could only see that the ceilings were embossed, gilded, and high. If this was the
ton’s
idea of a gala, then Daisy decided she’d prefer a tankard of sudsy beer with a few roistering friends on the beach, like in the bad old days in the colony.

Helena had been lost in the crowd; one moment Daisy had seen her, the next, she’d been swallowed up in the throng of guests. And so all Daisy could do was pretend to be interested as she stood and smiled until her jaw ached and her head swam.

“They’ve opened the doors to the terrace,” Leland said as he appeared out of the crowd and came to her side. “Come along.”

She hesitated.

“You look like you need the air,” he said. “I realize you want to make a splash, but swooning at a party has been done, and it’s
such
a cliché.”

Daisy glowered, but put her hand on his arm
and let him lead her away. “Where’s Helena?” she asked.

“Hired away by my mother. Carried off by Gypsies. I’ve no idea. She won’t come to harm wherever she is. She might even be enjoying herself; do you begrudge it to her? Ah, here we are,” he said without giving her time to answer.

She stopped before a long windowed door, dug in her heels, and glared at him.

“Why do you hesitate?” he asked. “No stigma need be attached to your stealing away with me, at least not here. It’s as crowded in my mama’s garden as it is indoors, but there’s more air there.”

She went with him.

The terrace was not as crowded as the salon. It was also not as bright; only a few torches lit the plain, square garden. But though there was enough room for a couple to speak privately, there were no deep shadows where anything illicit could be going on. The whole area was filled with partygoers.

He was right, Daisy thought as she stepped out; at least there was fresh air. She took a deep breath and felt a little better. “Do they really think this is having a good time?” she asked him quietly.

“Yes and no,” he said, leaning on the low balustrade of the marble columns that marked off the terrace. “Yes, because if they hadn’t been invited, they’d have been crushed. And no, because they
are
being crushed, and that means it was a
party they’d have hated to miss. But most of them are too old for this.

“Mama’s soirées usually have a broader cross-section of the
ton,
” Leland murmured, as his eyes roamed over the guests. “It might mean that she fancies Geoff.”

Daisy’s head turned around so she could meet his eyes.

“Young women are harder for her to compete with,” he said blandly. “You’ll note there are few here, which means she wishes to compete. Mama is rich, titled, and however cold at heart, warm of body. Excessively so, to judge by her past record. She’s been a widow for a long time. I believe she’s bored with it now.
Affaires
of the heart are fine when you’re young, but now I think she might prefer someone to sit around the fireside with. And Geoff is rich, titled, intelligent, and good-looking, for his age.”

“For his age,”
Daisy repeated in a fierce whisper. “The man is not eighty. I don’t know why you keep going on about his age.”

“Don’t you?” he asked mildly.

She was still.

His voice softened. “Daisy, my dear,” he said quietly, “he isn’t ancient but he is nearly twice your age. Why should that rankle? It’s only truth. Those years have made him what he is, and he certainly isn’t ashamed of them. Why should you be? Oh well, I might as well ask now as ever. What are your intentions?”

She stared at him.

“I know that’s what a papa asks of his daughter’s suitor, and Geoff’s a man whose papa is long gone,” Leland explained. “But I have a care for him. As do his sons. They like you; indeed, I do, too.”

“Oh,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Such a care for him that you attempt to seduce his friend?”

“How else to find out her intentions?” He laughed. “Not so. I tried for my own reasons. Gloves off then, Daisy, because you and I are too intelligent to hint and feint and bluff, at least at something like this. I’m asking your intentions toward him. Are you merely a friend, or are you angling for more? You must know it’s odd for a woman of your youth, beauty, and wealth to be making such a dead set at a fellow like Geoff. Or at least, to give him credit, because he is a remarkable man, for you to do so the minute your feet touched England’s soil again. There are other suitable men, and you haven’t even tried to meet one. Do you mean to marry him?”

She was as startled by his presumption as by how direct he was. She knew she could slap him and storm off. But she didn’t want to create a scene. She darted a glance around. No one seemed to notice them, but if there was a quarrel, they would. She could laugh and say something cutting and witty. But she didn’t feel very witty. Or
she could pretend to blush and hide her face. That was paltry.

Instead, she could only stare.

His eyes never left hers, and his voice was so soft and confidential that she’d forgotten other partygoers surrounded them, until he’d shocked her. Again he seemed to have woven a net around her, becoming the only person in her immediate world. She had to respond in some way.

“I don’t have to answer that,” she said.

He shrugged. “No, you don’t. But you don’t deny it, so that’s an answer in itself. So I’ll ask another. Are your intentions honorable?”

Now she did laugh. “Yes, of course,” she said. “Look, my lord, I come from prison, but I committed no crime. I lived among criminals for years, so I, of all people, know the penalties for mischief. But why would I want to make any? Have you thought of that? I just want to live in peace and tranquillity. That’s my goal; those are my intentions.”

He leaned back and looked at her with lazy amusement.

“And now I’ve a question for you,” she said. “If Geoff’s your good friend, then why are you making such a dead set at me yourself?”

He laughed. “If I knew Geoff was serious about you, my dear,” he said softly, “I wouldn’t go near you. But I don’t know that. Do you?”

She shook her head. “No. But if he was, I’d like it, very much.”

“I see. And why don’t you think I’m your friend?”

“Because friends don’t try to seduce friends.”

He laughed again “I can’t argue that,” he said. “But what better way to make friends?”

Now she knew he was joking. She studied him. Again he dominated the scene and made her forget all others. But why? He was tall, fair, and not very handsome. For reasons she still didn’t completely understand, he was also undeniably and utterly desirable.
There!
She’d thought it and wouldn’t deny it. It was amazing that he made her feel such stirrings that she’d even
think
about such a thing.

But he was more than seductive. She believed he was, even with his less than honorable intentions toward her, an honorable man. She hadn’t met many, but she knew one when she found one. He deserved an answer.

“Geoff was a gentleman to me when no one treated me like a person, much less a lady,” she told him. “When I was sixteen I married a man I hated, because it was my father’s wish. And, I admit, I was afraid of what would happen to me if I didn’t. It was hell. Now I’m free, but I find I’m not. I can’t be, without a husband. I don’t want
affaires,
or amusements, or a life in the heights of Society. I just want to be left in peace. I want to be loved by a good, decent man and not plagued by
others. That’s it, that’s all, but that’s what I want. Now, can you see anything wrong with that?”

It was his turn to study her. Then he looked over her shoulder. “There,” he said. “Look there, to your left. That woman in the yellow gown?”

She turned her head to see a brown-haired woman of middle years, with a thick body that showed too plainly in her thin, expensive silken gown. If she hadn’t had such a disagreeable expression, she might have been somewhat attractive. But the expression seemed part of her general slumped, disconsolate pose.

“Lady Blodgett married at seventeen,” he said softly. “It was a match made by her family, which is not uncommon. She’s had four children in the seven years since. I know, as the world does, that she despises her husband, Lord Blodgett.”

As Daisy tried to register the fact that the woman was near her own age, Leland went on, “And there, behind her. The lady in scarlet with the improbably red hair? Nothing like the glorious natural sunrise of your own. But do you see the redhead with so many plumes in her hair she looks like a demented macaw? She’s the life of every soirée and a dashing and desperate flirt. She was married, at eighteen, by her family’s decree, to a man more than twice her age. He’s not her love, or anyone else’s; he’s a thoroughly nasty piece of work. But Lady Blodgett is the one that has affairs, not the chattering macaw. She only drinks her way through every social occasion.”

He looked at her again. “I’m sorry, Daisy, but however terrible your circumstances, they weren’t unique; you’re not the only female ever forced into marriage with a lout. You were in prison, true. But theirs was the prison of convention. Yes, you faced privation. But theirs wasn’t an easy path, either. Do you think it matters? Do you think if they’d a second chance, if their husbands keeled over tonight and set them free, that they’d be content with mere
peace
in the future? I doubt it. They’d look for joy. Life is to be lived while it can be, Daisy. Peace comes to all of us sooner or later, the eternal kind. Turmoil isn’t all bad, and life can never be lived in peace until you find it for yourself, within yourself.”