A Wallflower’s Wish
Books 1-3
Maggie Dallen
Katherine Ann Madison
Swift Romance Publishing Corp
Copyright © 2020 by Tammy Andresen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
A Duke for Miss Daisy
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
A Lord for Miss Lily
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
A Marquess for Miss Marigold
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
A Hero for Lady Abigail
About the Authors
A Duke for Miss Daisy
Prologue
Three summers ago…
Daisy flew through the doors leading to the Eggertons’ garden and slammed them shut behind her. Her heart pounded furiously but she breathed out a sigh of relief as a crisp breeze cooled her burning cheeks. A drop of rain landed on one of her closed eyelids but she ignored it.
Out here, at least, she could not hear the laughter that had followed in the wake of her latest dancing blunder. She squeezed her eyes shut at the memory of Lord John’s irritated sigh as she trod on his toes, and then the sound of ripping as she stepped on the hem of her own gown and went down flailing.
She groaned softly and another raindrop landed on her nose.
No, she did not mind the rain if it meant she could find some solace. A little drizzle merely meant the garden would be blissfully empty—well, empty but for the flowers.
Her lips twitched up at the thought and she opened her eyes to peer into the darkness. Sure enough, she caught a glimpse of pink over by the hedge and then a hand darted out of the shadows to wave.
She headed over to Miss Mary Gladwell, who was all but invisible. Miss Mary, Daisy had learned this season, was quite adept at hiding.
“Who are we avoiding this evening?” Daisy asked with a smile as she approached.
Mary dipped her head with a blush that matched her gown. “My mother, as usual.”
“Ah.” Daisy sighed in commiseration as she sank onto the bench beside her new friend. “Intent on forcing you to speak to young gentlemen this evening, is she?”
Mary nodded and Daisy patted her knee. Poor Mary was painfully shy and her mother’s attempts to make her socialize were the sweet girl’s worst form of torture.
“What about you?” Mary asked.
Daisy wrinkled her nose. “I attempted to dance again.”
Mary winced in sympathy. “I am sorry.”
Daisy shrugged. “I’d rather be out here with you anyway.” She looked around to find their other friend, the third of their little wallflower trio they’d formed to weather this season. But she didn’t see their other member hiding anywhere.
Before she could ask about her, the doors flew open again and Miss Laura Upton was calling out to them before the door had even shut. “There you are!”
The tall, slender redhead bunched up her skirts and went off the path to wade through the wet grass—a more expedient route, to be sure, but Daisy had no doubt it would ruin her silk slippers.
“I was hoping I’d find you out here,” Laura said as she sat beside Daisy with a sympathetic look. “Are you all right, Daisy?”
Daisy nodded. “I will be fine. I just needed an escape.”
“And who could blame you?” Laura said. “This ball is the most tedious one yet.”
Mary giggled softly beside her and Daisy grinned. “Well, at least we have each other.”
“For that I am so grateful,” Mary said.
“We wallflowers need to stick together,” Daisy said. She’d said something similar at the first ball of the season when they’d congregated together on the sidelines and watched the other young ladies dancing.
Laura made a sound of agreement before her tone turned thoughtful and her gaze roamed over the garden before them. “What type of flower is the wallflower exactly?”
Daisy smiled and nudged her friend with her elbow. “Why a Daisy, of course.”
Mary laughed. “There out to be a flower named Mary. I believe I fit the image of a wallflower to perfection.”
The other girls could hardly argue. The petite and bashful brunette was forever trying to blend into the background. She hated being the center of attention. Mary’s kindness was beyond compare, and she was intelligent and witty, if one could get past her crippling shyness.
But few tried so no one but Daisy and Laura realized the gem that was in their midst.
“Perhaps I shall call you Marigold,” Laura teased, making Mary laugh with delight.
Laura was the exact opposite of Mary in just about every way. Her brazen personality did not shy from attention, but she also made no attempt to fit the image of a proper young lady. She was too outspoken, too impatient, too...just too, Daisy decided.
But that was precisely why Daisy liked Laura. The girl was a force of nature, and she encompassed a joie de vivre that made everything more entertaining. Daisy turned to her now. “Then what shall we call you?”
“Yes,” Mary added. “What shall your wallflower name be?”
Laura pursed her lips as she gave it some thought. “Lily, I suppose. That must be the closest to Laura, don’t you think?”
Mary nodded. “I like it.”
Daisy tilted her head to the side, eyeing the light coming from inside. Hearing the faint sound of music as it drifted out from the ballroom. “Daisy, Lily, and Marigold,” she mused. Then she grinned. “It’s perfect.”
Laura’s head tilted back with her laughter. “Next time Abigail and her friends refer to us as the wallflowers, they won’t know how right they are.”
Daisy turned to Mary. “What do you think, Marigold?”
“I love it.” Mary’s voice was stronger than Daisy had ever heard it. “After all, they cannot laugh at us if we’re already laughing ourselves.”
Chapter One
The day Daisy met her duke, the world stopped spinning.
Or rather, she stopped spinning and her dance partner crashed into her.
“Oof.” The noise that came out of Daisy’s mouth was hardly befitting a lady, but it was a
very natural response when one’s toes were being trampled by Lord John.
The second son of the Marquess of Lassiter, Lord John was the poor soul who now suffered his way through a dance with her.
“Miss Daisy, are you all right?” he asked. His tone was filled with concern and his expression—
Well, she couldn’t see his expression. She was too busy staring at her duke.
The duke. Not her duke, she reminded herself.
Hers or not...he was here!
The world gave a dizzying tilt that had nothing to do with the fellow dancers now careening past her. The air suddenly seemed too thick, the room too hot. And she was certain that her heart was attempting to escape her tight bodice with its incessant thudding against her ribcage.
Daisy tried to tear her gaze from the tall, handsome duke who’d entered through the garden doors, but it was impossible. She stood there in the middle of the dance floor, still as a statue because now...he’d spotted her.
Of course he’d spotted her. She’d just caused a scene in the middle of the ballroom and the dancers around them were turning to whisper and glare at the girl who’d botched this elegant dance number with all the grace of an elephant.
When his dark gaze clashed with hers, she could not have looked away if she’d tried. She was trapped.
Heat scorched her neck and crept up into her cheeks, but she still couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dark, glowering gaze of the noble, handsome, eloquent, and kind Duke of Dolan.
Truth be told, she did not know for a fact that he was kind.
Or eloquent, for that matter. She’d never actually heard him speak before. That would have meant being close enough to overhear him, and the extent of Daisy’s relationship with the duke—if one could call it a relationship—was more akin to a puppy chasing after its master.
For three summers her family and his had shared adjoining estates in the North. That, of course, had been before his father died. Before he’d inherited the title and its obligations, and no longer had time for fun and games in the countryside.
That had been before she’d been old enough for him to notice her. Not the way she’d wished him to, at least. Not the way a kind and thoughtful gentleman of society looked upon a young lady he admired.
She’d been thirteen the last time she’d seen him, and nearly a decade had passed since. But still, she recognized that sharp jawline, the brooding brow, the aquiline nose with his ever-dignified air from the other side of the room.
She’d seen that face in her daydreams so often, she would have recognized him from miles away.
“Miss Daisy, are you hurt?” Lord John’s voice close to her ear finally broke her trance and had her looking back to her dance partner with a wince.
“I am so sorry, Lord John,” she said.
His smile was kind. “Think nothing of it, my dear.” His hand came to her elbow and she let him lead her off the dance floor to the small gathering of chaperones and partygoers who stood along the sidelines watching the merriment.
“Would you like a refreshment?” Lord John asked.
She blinked up at him, not because the question was so very baffling but because his behavior most certainly was.
She’d fully expected Lord John to sneer at her on the dancefloor after she’d made a spectacle of them both. At the very least she’d expected a sniff as he looked down his nose at her.
That was the response she’d thought was coming—actually, it was the response she knew to expect.
How did she know all this exactly?
It was the way he’d reacted last season when she’d fumbled her steps during a dance at the Worthingtons’ annual ball.
Daisy was not exactly a natural born dancer, and her grace and coordination left a lot to be desired, but the fact that she’d now twice made a scene while attempting to dance with Lord John was just bad luck.
“You look piqued,” Lord John said as he escorted her over to her mother. “I shall fetch you some lemonade.”
“Oh, I—” I do not like lemonade. That was what she wished to say. But he looked so hopeful and she was so amenable to having a moment to herself, she ended with, “I would love that. Thank you.”
His smile had her eyes widening in surprise as he turned away.
Lord John’s smiles were still very new for Daisy and she wasn’t quite sure whether she liked them. She thought perhaps she preferred when he’d been rude to her last summer instead. At least then she’d known where she stood with him.
Last year she’d known where she’d stood with everyone.
Out of sight and out of mind, for the most part. Last season she’d been invisible, especially to eligible young gentlemen like Lord John. Daisy and her friends had embraced their roles as wallflowers and enjoyed the freedom that came with invisibility and low expectations.
This season…?
Well, she still planned to have fun with her friends, but her mother had other plans.
“The Duke of Dolan is here, did you see?” her mother asked the moment Daisy reached her side and Lord John was out of hearing.
“Yes, I did,” she said mildly. No need to tell her mother that it was the sight of the stoic and upright paragon of nobility had been the reason for her dancing downfall. Perhaps her mother hadn’t noticed…
“Really, Daisy,” her mother muttered from behind her fan. “I do not know why we spent a small fortune on dance instructors if you cannot manage the simplest of steps.”
Daisy pressed her lips together, opting to ignore the question, which she assumed was rhetorical.
“What do you suppose brings the duke to the Glendales’ garden party?” she asked instead. Because truly, his presence here was quite a surprise.
After he’d married, the duke had all but taken leave of society—or at least, he’d stopped attending balls and garden parties or any other event where Daisy might have run into him. He spent his time in London, she’d heard, his head buried in parliament business and managing his vast fortune and estates.
From what she’d overheard by eavesdropping on her mother and her friends, aside from the occasional soiree that his wife hosted for close friends, the duke and his wife did little entertaining.
Daisy had never met the Duchess of Dolan personally, though she’d heard rumors of her beauty and charm. She’d been a diamond of the first water, by all accounts. They’d made a quick match and Daisy had cried for no less than three days straight when the banns were read.
She felt her mother’s gaze on her. “Did you not hear?”
Whatever news it was that Daisy had missed out on, it was lost in a flurry of activity as her mother's friends approached in a barrage of laughter and gossip about the sudden arrival of the Duke of Dolan—and the tragic blunder that was Daisy’s dancing.
That dratted heat was back, making her wish she could fade into the wallpaper rather than be the object of these old biddies’ amusement. She spotted salvation outside the French doors leading outside in the form of red hair and a pink gown.
“Mother, I see my friends in the garden. Would it be all right if I step out to say hello?”
“I suppose, but do not dally out there all night,” her mother said. “There are gentlemen who still wish to dance with you...though heaven knows why after that performance with Lord John.”
The last part was tacked on for her friends, and tittering laughter followed her as she hurried off toward the door.
She’d lost sight of Marigold and Lily, but she knew they would be out there. Where there was a garden, the wallflowers could always be found.
It was several years ago, during their first season, that the three girls had come up with their wallflower nicknames. The conversation had come about after they had been watching the other girls dance for a solid hour. Lily had asked, What type of flower is the wallflower exactly?
Why a Daisy, of course, Daisy had joked.
Daisy’s name truly was Daisy, but that evening Miss Mary Gladwell had become Marigold
and Miss Laura Upton had adopted the name Lily. It had started as a jest but the names had stuck over the years.
Marigold had said it best. They cannot laugh at us if we’re already laughing ourselves.
Daisy smiled at the memory as she narrowly dodged a servant carrying a tray of champagne. Fresh air and laughter amongst friends called to her as she weaved her way through the crowd. The last thing she needed was to create another spectacle before she got there.
At last! She reached the glass doors and threw them open—
“Oof!” The low grunt sounded just as the door she’d thrust open hit something—or someone.
“Oh, I—”
I am so sorry.
I apologize.
I did not see you there.
These were all the things she meant to say but as the gentleman she hit came into view as the door fully opened and the glow of the chandeliers lit his magnificent features, all that came out was, “I hit you.”
“Yes, I deduced as much.” His voice was little more than a growl and his eyes narrowed on her like he was a predator and she were his prey.
The Duke—her duke. He was looking at her.
Her mouth went dry and she lost the ability to breathe.
He was even more handsome up close. Those dark eyes were even darker, the brow more brooding, the set of his jaw more stern, and he…
A Wallflower's Wish Boxed Set: Three Regency Romances Page 1
