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A loud bang sounded, and voices floated up from downstairs. Well, technically, they seemed to charge with all the force of angry rhinoceroses in the jungle.
Reggie untangled himself from Daisy reluctantly. “I believe we have company.”
She nodded solemnly. “I suppose now would be a good time to get dressed.”
He gazed reluctantly at her dress. “It does seem a pity.”
“Oh?”
Reggie grinned. He had the terrible impression that his grin verged on the salacious, and Daisy poked an elbow into him.
“Naughty,” she chided.
“Truthful,” he protested, then traced her pink buds, still visible through her thin shift.
He helped her sit up, then grabbed her thick emerald afternoon dress. “Arms up.”
She smiled, raised her arms above her head, and he pulled the fabric over her.
Footsteps pounded below.
“I believe your parents have discovered the stairs.”
“You don’t keep them very well hidden,” Daisy said.
Reggie smirked.
“And they have been here before.”
Voices could be heard arguing.
“I think Alistair is attempting to dissuade them from exploring the entire townhouse,” Reggie said.
“He doesn’t know Papa.”
“Your father doesn’t know Alistair.” Reggie crawled behind her and focused on her back. “There are many buttons here.”
“You can take pleasure in their fashionableness.”
“I’m going to take pleasure in your delicious back.”
“Delicious?”
“Everything about you is delicious,” Reggie said solemnly.
Daisy smiled. “You’re a silly man.”
“Perhaps,” Reggie said. “Though don’t tell that to your parents.”
Her face sobered. “Oh, do hurry.”
Reggie buttoned her dress quickly.
“I have the feeling my hair is not at its best,” Daisy said.
“If that feeling disturbs you, I would suggest not looking in the mirror.”
She scrunched her lips together.
“You always look adorable,” Reggie stated, smoothing a curly strand of hair back. He placed her arms. “Now, let’s see your parents.”
“The first stop is the mirror,” she said.
Reggie sighed, but obediently carried her there. He would carry her anywhere she liked, forever and ever.
After Daisy had smoothed her hair, he marched from the room. Alistair had left Daisy’s chair outside the room.
“I can simply carry you,” Reggie said.
She smiled. “I know. But I like my independence.”
Reggie nodded and placed her into the chair reluctantly, instantly missing the feeling of her warm skin pressed against him. She grabbed hold of the wheels and pushed herself to the landing, then glanced at him.
“Daisy Holloway,” her mother bellowed. “What on earth are you doing here?”
Reggie sighed.
“How did you get up there?”
Reggie joined Daisy. “I brought her here.”
“I knew it,” Papa said and shot Alistair an accusatory look. “You said you hadn’t seen my daughter.”
“Oh, she’s your daughter?” Alistair asked in an innocent voice.
Reggie snorted, then carried Daisy downstairs.
He held her in his arms and addressed her parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Holloway, I have some—er—news for you.”
Daisy’s parents glanced at them warily. Alistair ascended the steps to bring Daisy’s chair down.
“Your daughter has done me the indescribable honor of agreeing to become my wife,” Reggie said.
Daisy’s father blinked.
Daisy’s mother’s jaw dropped down.
“No,” Mrs. Holloway said finally. “That’s not possible.”
“It’s true, Mama,” Daisy said.
“But you’re—” Mrs. Holloway swallowed hard.
“I love Daisy, and I want her to be in my life forever.”
“But she wasn’t supposed to marry,” Mrs. Holloway managed to say finally. “That wasn’t the plan. She was supposed to stay with us. I-I don’t understand.”
“We’re in love,” Daisy said, and Reggie’s heart warmed.
Love.
That was precisely the emotion he felt. That described everything.
“We’re going to marry,” Reggie said.
Mrs. Holloway blinked.
“I forbid it.” Mr. Holloway paced the foyer. His shoes clinked against the marble and echoed through the large-ceilinged room.
“I’m not giving Daisy up,” Reggie vowed.
“But all the things...” Mrs. Holloway shook her head. “It will be difficult.” She glanced at her husband. “And we don’t have a dowry.”
“All I want in my life is to be with her,” Reggie said.
“And you promise you’ll take care of her,” Daisy’s father asked.
Reggie nodded somberly. “Most certainly.”
Mr. Holloway nibbled on his bottom lip. “I’m not happy about it.”
“You should be,” Daisy said sternly. “I’m happy.”
“You don’t understand life,” Mr. Holloway said.
“I do,” Daisy said, keeping her voice icy and firm. “Your protection only hurt me.”
Mr. Holloway flinched.
“I almost lost a chance at happiness with the duke because of you,” Daisy said.
“I don’t want you to become unhappy,” Mr. Holloway said, but his shoulders slumped, and Reggie thought Daisy’s father might understand what he’d done.
Alistair cleared his throat. “Tea and sweets are in the drawing room to celebrate the betrothal.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Holloway’s eyes rounded, and Reggie nodded gratefully at Alistair.
“Shall we?” Reggie swung his arm toward the drawing room.
Mrs. Holloway glanced at her husband hopefully.
Mr. Holloway gave a rigid nod. “It seems we have something to celebrate.”
Daisy’s parents strode into the drawing room.
Reggie bent down to Daisy. “I think everything will be just fine. Just give them time.”
“I believe you’re right,” Daisy said, and she beamed.
Butterflies fluttered through Reggie’s chest, and he pushed her into the drawing room, toward their new, shared life.
*
HAPPINESS FLITTED THROUGH Daisy. The servants carried more treats into the room. Evidently, Alistair had urged them to bring everything from their larders. Sweets piled the table, glistening delightfully. The housekeeper lit the candles, perhaps mindful of the waning afternoon light. The flames danced around them.
She glanced at Reggie, half-expecting him to disappear, half-expecting this all to be some pleasant dream as the carriage moved from Bath. Reggie was still here, though. He would always be here. He would be her husband.
“What will you do after the wedding?” Mama asked Reggie.
He shifted in his seat.
“Mama,” Daisy said. “We haven’t even discussed that.”
“Well, then you must,” Mama said.
“I meant in private,” Daisy said, though the happiness that bounded through her made it impossible for her to be too upset.
“No doubt they want to stay in Bath.” Papa glanced at Reggie. “Isn’t that so, Your Grace?”
“Perhaps sometimes,” Reggie said.
“I forgot about your boxing schedule.” Papa scrunched his lips, as if he’d bitten into something sour, and not the cook’s tasty scones. “You can’t expect to haul Daisy across the country like some trunk.”
“I don’t plan to,” Reggie said calmly.
Daisy straightened. “I don’t want to be separated.”
“I have no intention of that either,” Reggie said.
“What did you intend?” Papa asked.
“Daisy always speaks highly of London. I assume we can find some doctors there for her. I would like to settle there.”
“Truly?” Daisy blinked.
“Yes.” Reggie picked up a scone and slathered it in clotted cream and jam. “I think that would be nice.”
“I think that would be nice, too,” Daisy said softly.
“Then I suppose it’s all settled,” Papa said, his eyes wide.
“Indeed.” Reggie bit into his scone and grinned.
Mama glanced at him. “Perhaps it would be useful to tell the servants not to take our luggage to France.”
Papa bounded up. “Good—er—point.”
“Since there will be a wedding to plan,” Mama said gaily.
“And I require my attire.” Papa hurried from the door and glanced at Daisy. “You’re coming with us.”
“But!”
“You’re not married yet, sweetheart.” Mama’s eyes danced, and she pushed Daisy from the room.
“One thing before you leave,” Reggie said.
“Oh?” Daisy stared at him.
“Yes.” He nodded solemnly as he narrowed the distance between them. Then he cupped Daisy’s face with his hands and kissed her. Deeply.
“Oh, my,” Papa said.
“Heavens.” Mama stretched a hand over her heart.
The duke grinned. “I’m going to call on you tomorrow.”
Daisy nodded happily, then Mama pushed her from the room.