Page 45 of Daisy and the Duke
“Yes, I can’t wait to see you there. Don’t tell me your costume! I want to be surprised. You know, this is only going to be tolerable with you there, Daisy.”
Daisy bit her tongue. So Mr. Kemble hadn’t passed on her regrets. Or perhaps he had tried, but Tristan hadn’t listened. And she had so hoped that she wouldn’t have to refuse his invitation personally. Regardless, there was no way she could appear at a formal event at Lyondale in what she called her best dress. She just couldn’t.
She opened her mouth to tell him she couldn’t attend, but what came out instead was, “That’s…that’s most kind of you.”
“It’s not entirely kindness,” Tristan said cryptically, not noticing her discomfort in his own distraction. He glanced back toward Lyondale. “Damn, I wish I could stay with you longer, but I should go back. I had a devil of a time getting out for this short ride. There are too many things to do.” He smiled at her again. “There will be fireworks.”
“So I heard,” she replied, unable to meet his eyes.
His smile faded. “There will be more than one kind, possibly.”
“Oh? What?” she asked, curious despite herself.
“That’s a secret. And perhaps it won’t come to pass.”
“You’re being very mysterious, your grace.”
“I like it better when you say my name.” He looked at her with an expression of both heat and longing and it stirred a fire in her belly. “Daisy,” he said then, his voice raw. “No matter what happens…”
“Tristan?” she asked, alarmed at his tone. “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”
“God, Daisy, there’s so much I want to tell you and I don’t have the time, but maybe at the ball…”
“About the ball—” she began to say.
“No, don’t make me think of it. The fact that you’ll be there is the only reason I’m tolerating the notion. Unfortunately, I can’t stay. I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression.” He gave her a crooked smile, and moved back to Stormer, mounting up before looking around the meadow. “It’s pretty here. Is this one of the places you keep as meadow for the livestock?”
“Yes, your grace.”
“See? I’m learning! God, I can’t wait till this stupid party is over and we can talk about planting schedules again. Did you know you can make any topic riveting, Daisy?”
“I do my best, your grace.”
“Tristan, sweetheart. I told you I don’t want anyyour gracesfrom you. Good night!” He rode off.
She felt a smile spread over her face as she listened over and over to the memory of him saying her name.
Daisy felt a little shiver, and shook herself. She was letting her daydreams get quite out of hand again. It didn’t matter anyway. She couldn’t go to the ball, because she had nothing to wear. “But Iwantto go,” she said out loud, and knew it was true.
“I want to go,” she said aloud to the gathering night. “I want to go. I want to go to the ball. Please.” She wasn’t sure who or what she was asking, but she remembered her conversation with Mr. Kemble about the need for a miracle. She looked at the sky and found one of the first faint stars. “I wish for a miracle,” she said to it, her voice rising slightly. “Just one evening withhim. Please let me go to the ball.”
Chapter 12
The next morning, Daisy roseearly, because her whole day would be devoted to preparing the baroness and Bella for tonight’s event. She pressed the gowns, she stitched the hems, she heated the hair curlers, she tied ribbons, she pulled out stockings, she polished jewelry.
When the ladies stepped out, they’d be marvels—perfect confections of female beauty, dressed in the very latest fashions, bedecked with glittering gems, and glowing with excitement as they traveled to join a rarified world, while Daisy would be left behind to tend the kitchens and clean up the ladies’ bedchambers in the aftermath of their preparations.
“It’s not fair,” Daisy whispered.
She felt the defiance behind the words. She had spent so long repressing the truth that it was shocking to say it out loud. Keeping Daisy away from the ball wasnot fair. The baroness could make any excuse she wanted, but the fact was that she knew Daisy cared for Tristan, both as a friend and as something more. And she was determined to prevent them from seeing each other again.
“I am sorry you can’t attend,” Bella said once, while Daisy curled her hair into ringlets. “You were invited, after all.”
“Perhaps another time,” Daisy replied, thinking of how nonsensical a comment that was. How many times did a duke host a ball thateveryonewas invited to? Surely once he settled into his life, probably with Bella at his side as the new duchess, only the true aristocrats would cross the threshold of Lyondale. And Daisy was no longer one of that class.
It isn’t fair, she thought again.
When Bella was fully dressed, she did look exactly like a snow princess, ethereal and regal and fair. Her gown was bedecked with pearls, and the fur-trimmed cape draped around her slender shoulders. Bella even had a tiara of icy silver and pearl. Daisy had no idea how the baroness had acquired it, but she shivered to think of the cost. But the final effect was dazzling, and she couldn’t deny that Bella would turn every head at the ball. Including the duke’s.
