Compromising Miss Milton

by Michelle Styles

  ‘You are laughing at me, now.’

  ‘Perish the thought.’

  ‘Yesterday was a day of upsets.’ Daisy clasped her hands in front of her. She tried to remember exactly how the speech went, the exact mannerisms she had planned to use and not to concentrate on the way his lips twitched or his eyes had turned golden. ‘But that does not mean we must be irrevocably linked. I suspect through a misguided attempt—’

  ‘Misguided. Surely you could have used a better word.’ He made a temple with his long fingers. ‘There is nothing misguided about my intentions towards you. But continue, Daisy, do. I am anxious to see where your speech leads.’

  ‘Please pay attention without interrupting.’ The urge to stamp her foot nearly overwhelmed Daisy. She had spent years being thought of as calm, cool and collected, but every time she came near to Adam, something inside her simmered to boiling point.

  ‘You should never play chess, Daisy. You wear all your emotions on your face.’ His eyes became sober. He leant forwards and lightly clasped his knee. ‘You remain in grave danger. These men kill. Whoever is behind this has targeted you because of me. I refuse to allow it to happen. That is where the matter ends. Your life is far more important than some illusionary independence.’

  ‘I wish to make my own decisions.’

  ‘Once we are married, you will be able to run the house.’

  Daisy pressed her fingertips against the bridge of her nose. ‘It is not what I meant. These clothes…’

  ‘Are yours. You may burn them for all I care.’ Adam stood up. ‘But then what will you have to wear? I have given instructions that your other garments are to be destroyed.’

  ‘You would not dare.’

  ‘Try me!’ He took a step closer and his fingers flexed. ‘Do you wish to be thought of as a governess or a woman?’

  The air between them quivered. A sudden exhilaration filled Daisy—he would kiss her again. And it shocked her that she wanted him to. She could remember Louisa’s whispered confidences about how pleasant things could be between a man and a woman, entirely the opposite view of her sister.

  ‘I take your point. The governess must go,’ she gasped out and her hands grabbed on to the desk for support. ‘I will spend my time altering the clothes. But when I wish to take a break or walk about the grounds, I shall.’

  The spell between them broke. He raised an eyebrow. ‘I am happy to see you have decided to be sensible, Miss Milton. I fear your speech-making is at an end. We shall go on as I deem fit.’

  He made a correct bow before closing the door with a distinct click.

  Daisy waited for a heartbeat and then tossed a handful of clothes at the door. Underneath lay a slim volume of poetry. Keats. Her heart skipped a beat. He had remembered she liked poetry. He may have bought enough clothes to outfit any mistress, but he had also bought a present specifically for her.

  She wanted to hate him, but found she was beginning to like being with him. And that would simply not do.

  * * *

  ‘Do you truly consider it safe to venture out without an escort?’ Adam’s sardonic voice greeted Daisy as she stepped out in the garden the next morning.

  Daisy put her hands against the small of her back and arched slightly, easing the tension that had come with several hours of sewing. Two steps. She had only taken two steps out of doors and he was there. ‘Are you trying to keep me a prisoner?’

  ‘Merely seeking to keep you safe.’ He folded his newspaper. ‘Webster has lost his wager.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘That I would be reading the newspaper when he returned.’ His eyes crinkled at corners. ‘You should know I would never wager on a lady.’

  ‘Polly went to see her aunt to ask about some ribbon. A breath of fresh air is all I require. We have been sewing all yesterday afternoon and well into this morning.’ Daisy pasted a smile on her face as her mind raced. She had anticipated Webster with his complaints about the weather, not Adam and his hooded look. ‘But as it happens, I am pleased to see you. I wanted to thank you for my gift.’

  ‘And which gift was that?’

  ‘The book of poetry. I have longed to read Keats properly.’

  His face changed and became lit with enthusiasm. ‘Have you read his “Bright Star” sonnet? It is one of my favourites.’

  Daisy stared at him in surprise. He had read Keats. Her insides twisted. She was guilty of prejudging. ‘I thought you didn’t like poetry.’

  ‘No, I do not like poetry being rammed down children’s throats. Poetry has its time and place. You should read the sonnet, Daisy. Then we can discuss it.’ His eyes glinted with a smouldering gold. ‘I look forward to discussing it with you.’

  ‘I will. Later.’ Daisy held out her hand. ‘But now, I should like to take a turn about the garden.’

  ‘As it happens, I have a moment of free time. Do you wish to walk down to the popping stone? We could have a look at the kissing bush and see if it lives up to its name. Or perhaps you would prefer a game of bowls.’

  Daisy automatically straightened her bonnet. The kissing bush. That was one place she did not intend on visiting with him. She had made up her mind last night. They had to be platonic friends. It was the only way she would get through this charade. It had come to her in the middle of the night. But she had to find a way to get him to agree. A game of bowls might be the answer.

  ‘Bowls, as we are already engaged. You have no need of Sir Walter Scott’s proposal place.’

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. ‘How well do you play?’

  ‘I used to be quite keen as a girl. And my pupil before Nella—Sheila Davenport—loved her bowls. It was the only way I could get her to recite her times table.’

  ‘Innovative.’

  ‘Effective.’ Daisy crossed her arms. ‘So I would say I am an expert at the game. I plan on winning.’

  ‘Despite Miss Davenport’s propensity to play, I suspect that I will hold the advantage due to my misspent youth.’

  ‘You are over-confident.’

  ‘Perhaps, but it will be a good match.’

  Daisy walked alongside Adam as he led the way to a pristine bowling green. The keeper allowed them to have a box of bowls and they soon began playing. From the way he bowled, Daisy could tell that Adam was naturally athletic and was extremely talented at the game.

  ‘You play very well,’ she said as the game grew to a close.

  ‘I doubt you can do better than that,’ Adam said as his ball stopped within a hair’s breath of the smallest ball, the jack. ‘We should have wagered on the outcome.’

  ‘I thought you did not wager on a lady.’

  ‘This would not have been wagering on a lady but with a lady. Remind me to show you the difference some time.’

  Daisy touched her fingers to her mouth and eyed the distance between ball and jack. ‘That is an easy shot.’

  ‘If you do it, then I would say you are indeed an expert bowls player.’

  ‘Shall we wager on that?’ Daisy asked, and her nerves became coiled. This was the moment she had been waiting for. She could not lose.

  ‘Done.’

  Daisy waited for a moment, forcing her neck muscles to relax. It was about more than winning the shot, it was about making Adam see who she was. She rolled the ball and knocked Adam’s ball out of the way. Adam gave a low whistle.

  ‘Victory is mine.’

  ‘What were we wagering for?’ Adam dusted his fingers with his handkerchief. ‘It is always best to define the terms before you begin. Shall we share a kiss?’

  His forefinger traced the air above her mouth. Daisy forced her mind from the sudden ache. He would not distract her this time.

  ‘Information. Why were you attacked? What jewels do you have?’

  ‘Is that what you want?’

  ‘I deserve to know the answer. These men want to kill me. I know it is why I have had Webster as a shadow.’

  For a long heartbeat Adam stood unmoving, the morni
ng sun touching his shoulders, making him look like some Roman god. She thought he was about to refuse, but then Adam withdrew a necklace from his breast pocket. The rubies and diamonds shone in the sunlight, making a dancing pattern on the green. A king’s fortune, but deadly. A cold finger of ice passed through Daisy.

  ‘They were after this. It belonged to a maharajah and supposedly is cursed.’ He ran it through his fingers and the stones appeared to light with some hidden fire.

  ‘How did you acquire it? After the battle?’

  ‘After the battle, it was given to me in payment.’ Adam’s mouth held a bitter twist. ‘I keep it to remind myself that there are some things more precious than jewels.’

  ‘What did you give for it?’

  ‘My heart and soul.’ A brief mocking laugh resounded over the bowling green. ‘What else?’

  Daisy regarded the shifting colours on the green. He had never said anything about love or emotions. Was this his way of telling her gently that there could never be any real feeling between them? ‘A heart can shatter, but it mends. It becomes stronger.’

  He held the stones up once again, covering her in their red fire. ‘Perhaps you are right. Perhaps the cost was only a shattered heart. I bow to your governess expertise in this.’

  ‘What is the curse?’

  ‘For the righteous, the love of a lifetime, and for the wicked, death and destruction after a life without feeling.’ He shrugged, but his eyes showed a shadow of pain, which Daisy longed to erase. Surely he couldn’t believe that he had given up all chance of love in exchange for the necklace’s cold beauty. ‘I took a chance and lost.’

  Daisy put her hand to her throat. ‘I don’t believe in curses.’

  ‘It is what the men were after. It is what they believe in.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘You will have to forgive me, but I hid it in your basket for a while, thinking you were an innocent bystander. But the men learnt about your brother and this is why—’

  ‘You did what!’ Daisy stared at him in astonishment. ‘When?’

  ‘Before we met the men on the bank, I took precautions. Daisy, I had fought them once, but I was in no fit state to fight them again.’

  Daisy’s stomach churned as she remembered the man’s burning eyes. ‘They could have taken that basket on the riverbank! That man, the one with the foreign accent. You allowed me to confront him.’

  ‘How could I have stopped you?’

  Daisy stared open mouthed at him. ‘You casually put me in danger.’

  Adam developed a sudden interest in the balls. ‘Not intentionally. It was your choice to go after the basket. I have never claimed to be a saint, Daisy. Far from it. I was only able to retrieve the necklace after Nella dropped the basket in the schoolroom.’

  ‘You should have told me about its existence before now.’ Daisy put her hand on her hips as all manner of scenarios raced through her brain. He should never have done that. The ends did not justify the danger he had deliberately placed her and the Blandishes in. ‘What if they had done something to Nella? She carried the basket around. You should have said something when Lord Edward brought me to the hotel. I would have returned it immediately to you.’

  ‘Stop speculating, Daisy. All was well. I refused to take the risk in a public place such as a hotel lobby.’ Adam’s face became a cold arrogant mask as if he could not believe she would challenge his word.

  ‘You are only telling me now because I won the wager.’ Daisy struggled to maintain control of her temper. All she was to him was a pawn to be moved about in some elaborate game of chess.

  ‘If you had been more attentive in clearing out the basket, perhaps you would have brought the stones to me, but you weren’t. Luck was on our side. I dread to think what would have happened if your attacker had discovered them.’

  ‘I am not sure we are on the same side. You lied to me!’ Daisy ground her teeth. She longed to shake him until he understood the hurt coursing through her. ‘You deliberately put me in danger. You played with my life without any consideration. How long was I to remain in blissful ignorance?’

  A myriad of emotions flickered across his face, finally settling on remorse. A stab of triumph shot through Daisy. Maybe there was hope for him. Even in his arrogance, Adam knew he had made a serious error.

  ‘I was planning on telling you when the time was right,’ he said in a low voice. ‘This seemed to be a good opportunity. But I want you to think well of me. You see, because of you I am developing a conscience. I can’t undo the past, Daisy. I can only make the future better.’

  ‘How did you get the necklace? And, Adam, I want the truth.’

  ‘This was given to me as proof that the maharajah was in league with bandits. The woman felt a British officer might be able to stop the murders. I took it, but before I could organise a rescue, the maharajah acted. He was going to burn her on a funeral pyre. Your brother saved her, but when I tried to return the necklace, she told me to keep it as a reminder.’

  ‘The woman was Kamala, Tom’s wife,’ Daisy said with sudden insight. ‘That is why you are so insistent about protecting me. They want to harm me because of my brother’s actions.’

  ‘How was I to know who your brother was? I cannot believe how our paths have crossed here in Gilsland. It is imperative to keep this necklace out of their hands.’

  ‘I had told you my name.’

  ‘Milton is a common enough name,’ he said with maddening complacency.

  ‘That is supposed to make me feel better? What else do you have planned for me? How do I fit into the scheme? Have you ever thought of me as a person rather than a pawn?’

  ‘I think about you as person, Daisy. It was my weakness that I did not retrieve the necklace before you left me that day.’ His voice dropped to seductive purr. ‘I was far too intent on trying not to kiss you again to see if your lips really did taste of strawberries.’

  Daisy crossed her arms over her breasts and attempted to ignore how they seemed to ache and grow under his gaze. He would not distract and control her that way. ‘Am I to be the bait to lure them in? Is that why you kissed me? Why you seduced me so you could use the gang’s desire to kill me for your own ends?’

  ‘You are the one saying those words.’ Adam shook his head. ‘It takes more than a few kisses for a seduction. Seductions are far more involved. But despite your prim-and-proper exterior, Daisy, there is a passionate part of you that longs for it and the enjoyment it will bring.’

  Daisy clasped her hands to her head, blotting out the sound of his honey-laden voice. He was far too aware of his power over women. Whatever happened, some day Adam Ravensworth would see her as a person. He might not love her, but he would respect her integrity. Otherwise marriage became another term for slavery. ‘You destroyed my reputation! And all I ever did was to save your life.’

  ‘I am trying to save yours.’ He reached out and his bare hand brushed her cheek. It was the lightest of touches, but enough to provoke a fiery response deep within her. She tightened her stomach and forced it to vanish. ‘There is something between us, Daisy, do not try to deny it. I could have made you my mistress, but I made you my fiancée. Think about the difference.’

  She stepped away from him and focused on the jack ball. She should turn her back on him and leave now for Warwickshire and Felicity. But she couldn’t. The danger was real. The killers were out there.

  Worse still, in the logical part of her mind, she understood in part why he hadn’t trusted her. Would she have trusted him? The important thing was not her pride, but finding the culprits. Even so, she refused to tie herself to such a man for ever.

  ‘I will be your fiancée because I gave my word, but after the culprits are caught, we will part. It is my price and you owe me. We will have a platonic relationship. No more seduction. Or whatever you call it.’

  ‘And that is the price for your continued cooperation?’ Adam’s mouth quirked upwards as he allowed his hand to fall to his side. ‘That is your demand? What happens if you
insist?’

  ‘I won’t,’ Daisy said far more confidently than she felt.

  ‘Very well. No seduction until you insist. This should prove…interesting.’

  ‘I am deadly serious.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘As am I.’

  Daisy ignored the tiny pang in her heart. He had capitulated so easily. She wanted him to protest or take her in his arms. But instead he regarded her with hard speculative eyes, and a sardonic smile. The necklace hung from his fingertips, glinting in the sunlight, mocking her.

  ‘I would like to wear the necklace at the ball tonight,’ she said quickly, slamming the door on her misgivings. All he offered was kisses without meaning or heart.

  ‘At the ball?’

  ‘The Shaw’s is having its first ball since the death of William IV. Everyone is sure to be there, including whoever is the mastermind behind these foul deeds, if you are correct in your assumptions.’

  ‘One of his men will be there. You may count on that.’

  ‘I wish to demonstrate to whoever is searching for it that it remains in your possession. The sooner they are caught, the sooner our association will end.’ Daisy said the last words quickly, hoping against hope that he did not guess she meant the opposite. She enjoyed crossing wits with him. After each encounter she felt far more alive. Life had suddenly become more than simply existing and trying to cram unwanted knowledge into Nella or another child’s head. She already dreaded the final parting, but it would not do to become dependent on him.

  ‘And you have a gown that would be suitable for a viscount’s fiancée?’

  ‘Yes, of course, I have a serviceable gown for the occasion. Mrs Blandish liked to see Nella briefly presented at small dances.’ Daisy fingered her throat, her mind working fast. Her old gown might do for a quick visit, but would it do for capturing everyone’s attention? She could alter it in time for the dance. She knew she could. The neckline could easily be lowered and sleeves made more off the shoulder. It was two hours’ work, three at most. ‘It is the best way, Adam. I have no desire to remain here, waiting like an animal afraid to venture out. It is no life.’