by Sue Lyndon
“Are you an angel fallen from heaven, miss?” he asked with uncharacteristic humor as he leaned closer to the girl.
An impish grin overtook her features. “I don’t think anyone has ever mistaken me for an angel, my lord.” She giggled, and her laughter was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
Edward glanced up long enough to deduce that Lord Grayson and Miss Heathrow were indeed in agreement about getting married, Miss Wickersham was wearing an expression of dire exasperation as she assisted the older girl who’d fallen on the chair, and the formerly pistol-wielding lord was escorting the other young lady from the room.
It was at that moment the vicar walked in. The elderly man stopped in his tracks and clutched a book to his chest, his surprised gaze sweeping around the room.
Well, Edward supposed he ought to give Lord Grayson and Miss Heathrow some privacy to exchange their vows. He would not and could not force Miss Heathrow to marry him since she so obviously desired to be with Lord Grayson. He had never seen a couple look so in love as they stared at one another. When Lord Grayson glanced up, Edward gave him a polite nod, silently conveying that he did not plan to interfere with their nuptials, however unorthodox they might have come about.
Edward turned the dark-haired beauty in his arms and guided her out of the study, still unable to take his hands off her. It was most improper of him to keep touching her waist, and he quickly started to understand Lord Grayson’s plight.
A fierce and sudden attraction for the young lady in his arms burned through Edward, and he realized with startling clarity that if any man tried to pull this girl from his grasp in this moment, he would do away with such a man swiftly and violently. He felt downright deranged and animalistic as he led the girl into the great room and helped her sit. He sank onto the sofa next to her and boldly draped an arm around her.
“Are you all right, little miss?” He eyed her with concern. “Should I call for a doctor? Or, if I remember correctly, you have a nurse in residence at Talcott House. Shall I take you to the nurse?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, please don’t take me to see Nurse Lister,” the girl said. “She’s a most dour woman. Grumpier than Miss Wickersham is when she hasn’t yet had her breakfast and so very bossy. Even bossier than Garland, and you would not believe how bossy she is, my lord.”
“Very well, then,” he said with amusement building. He found her the most fascinating girl. Talkative and adorable and filled with energy, she was an absolute delight. Her mere presence made his worries and the darkness in his heart melt away. He grasped her delicate gloved hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon the back of her hand. “I am Edward Kensington, Earl of Sterling, and I am so very pleased to make your acquaintance, young miss. Would you please do me the honor of telling me your name?”
The prettiest blush stole over the girl’s face. “My-my name is Miss Daisy Smith. I am pleased to make your acquaintance as well, Lord Kensington. I hope it is not too bold of me to tell you how sorry I am that your morning has not gone as planned, but I admire you for not standing in the way of true love, for it is my opinion that Cynny and Lord Grayson are deeply in love. Did you see the way they looked at one another? My mother always said love matches were as rare as a flower that blooms in moonlight, which by the way I have never seen happen—do you know what kind of flower she was talking about?—but as I was saying, you did a kind and noble thing by allowing their marriage to take place this morning. I do so dearly hope that you do not feel too sad, my lord. Perhaps one day you will meet your love match. I advise you to keep your eyes peeled,” she said with utmost seriousness as she chattered fast as a little hummingbird might flap its wings, “for my mother also once told me that true love can strike in the most surprising places and between the most unlikely of people.”
Edward stared at her in silence for several seconds, feeling his jaw start to drop, but he quickly pressed his lips together and allowed himself a moment to digest everything she had said. In her sweet innocence, he realized, she was not even talking about herself when she advised him to keep his eyes peeled for his true love. She wasn’t trying to attach herself to him as a pushy eligible young miss might attempt to do at the balls and other social festivities Edward preferred to avoid. She was simply trying to comfort him.
At that precise instant, a piece of his heart broke off and attached itself to her. His throat tightened and he swallowed hard, as unfamiliar emotions—not sadness as she had feared, but something else entirely new and exciting—rolled through him.
“My lord? Are you going to cry?” she asked, her eyes going wide with sympathy. “Oh, my lord, as I said, your time for true love will surely come one day, and perhaps it will come soon. Please do not cry, but if you cannot help it, just say the word and I will stand guard at the entrance to the great room so no one interrupts you. I don’t like it when other people see me cry.”
He had the strangest urge to grab her and kiss her soundly. But he didn’t. He had only learned her name seconds ago, and until a few minutes earlier, he had still been betrothed to another.
Instead of grabbing her and kissing her, he found himself laughing. A real laugh, the first laugh he could recall having enjoyed in a long time. This sweet young lady had enamored herself to him without even trying. She had made him smile and laugh and wish he could drag the vicar into the great room to perform another wedding ceremony this morning. Miss Wickersham might have thought Miss Heathrow was the best choice for Edward when she’d arranged their betrothal, but Edward now very much questioned the headmistress’s matchmaking skills. It was this sweet young miss with the dark hair and the adorable blush—the lovely Miss Daisy Smith—who was perfect for him in every way. He had never been more certain of anything in his entire life.
She tilted her head, giving him a puzzled look. “What is so funny, my lord? You were being so awfully quiet that I feared you might start crying, yet now you are laughing as if you don’t have a care in the world.”
He reached for an errant lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear, letting his fingertips trail ever so lightly along her flesh. It wasn’t proper. Not at all. But he couldn’t help himself. It was all he could do to keep from pressing her down on the sofa and placing kisses along her neckline. “I was being quiet, my sweet, because I did not wish to interrupt you. You are the most talkative and delightful little miss I have ever met, as well as the most beautiful and endearingly sweet.”
She gave a little gasp and appeared surprised, and he wondered with an aching heart if anyone had ever told her how pretty and sweet she was. A girl like her deserved to be showered with compliments and praise on a daily basis, and he longed to be the man to dote upon her in such a fashion. His feelings for her were so strong and sudden that he didn’t experience the slightest bit of heartache when the wedding party passed the great room and bustled outside.
Miss Wickersham paused in the entryway of the great room and crooked a finger at Daisy. “You!” the older woman said in an accusing tone. “I will be back to deal with you very soon, little girl. Eavesdropping is not an acceptable pastime for a proper young miss, and this is not the first time I have had to remind you of it.” Then the headmistress all of a sudden seemed to realize Edward was holding Miss Smith with far too much familiarity, and she promptly placed her hands on her hips and turned her glare on him. “Lord Kensington, I will thank you to take your hands off my little charge. There will be no canoodling at Talcott House. ”
With great reluctance, Edward unwrapped his arm from around Miss Smith and held his hands up in a gesture of mock surrender. Miss Smith giggled beside him and folded her hands in her lap, and the two of them straightened in their seats and conveyed an exaggerated air of innocence to Miss Wickersham until the older woman finally walked away after someone called her name.
“Oh, you naughty, naughty lord,” Miss Smith said with a waggle of her eyebrows. “You better run and hide or Miss Wickersham might take her ruler to you.”
Finally, he released the chuckle that was building in his chest alongside his growing joy at merely being in the presence of the lovely Miss Smith. “I will take my chances,” he replied with a wink. “In fact, I think I will take my chances again very soon. What do you say, Miss Smith? May I call upon you this week? Perhaps even...tomorrow morning?”
“Wha-me?” Her eyes grew rounder and she peered at him with confusion.
He grasped her hands in his and brought them to his lips, kissing the back of her gloved hands each in turn. As he did so, he imagined his kisses were marking her and branding her as his. And she would belong to him soon, very soon, if the plan that was forming in his mind came to fruition. “Yes, sweet girl. You.” He rose up and released her hands, smiling down at her as his heart filled with happiness and gratitude at having met such an extraordinarily little miss. “Farewell, my little flower. I will see you tomorrow. I promise.”
“Farewell, my lord,” she said in a shaky breath.
He gave her a gentlemanly bow before departing the room.
The second she was out of his sight, he missed her already.
Chapter 3
One week later…
Daisy could hardly contain her excitement as she sat inside the colorful tent belonging to Lady Miselda. The morning sun peeked between the slits in the fabric walls and a tingle ran through her body at being in such an exotic location with a most unique companion. A real, honest to goodness, fortune teller. She could not wait to tell Rosie all about it, though Rosie would likely scold her for leaving Talcott House without permission. And not only without permission, but against Miss Wickersham’s express orders—such dire warnings had never stopped Daisy before.
Though she was Daisy’s best and dearest friend in the entire world, sometimes Rosie was a wet blanket, in Daisy’s opinion. But, she thought, as a wave of melancholy caught her off guard, she would miss Rosie most of all once she left Talcott House.
Her bit of sadness vanished as Lady Miselda lit a stick of incense, the foreign scent filling the small enclosure and Daisy inhaled deeply, the aroma nearly as enticing as that of fresh baked cake. The multiple bracelets on the soothsayer’s wrists jangled as she reached for Daisy’s hand.
“Hmmm, you are looking forward to a special event, are you not?” the woman said, holding Daisy’s palm in her wrinkled hand and tracing the lines with one of her pointed fingernails. Excited anticipation wound through Daisy as she stared at her palm; she couldn’t wait to hear what Lady Miselda had to say about her future. In addition to her uncanny knowledge of Daisy’s impending special event, the fortune teller had the most remarkable twinkling dark eyes which Daisy imagined could easily see beyond the physical world. What wonderful truths—and not so wonderful truths—about other people had this woman with the clinking bracelets glimpsed during her lifetime?
“Yes,” Daisy finally said, peering closer to see what the fortune teller observed in her hand, “I am getting married today.” Simply saying the words sent a jolt through her. In only a matter of hours, she would be Lady Kensington and have her very own papa.
“Today! For heaven’s sake, child, what are you doing here on your wedding day?” The fortune teller glanced at Daisy, genuinely surprised.
“I could not sleep and I wanted to visit the fair yesterday, but Miss Wickersham—she’s my guardian and the headmistress of Talcott House where I live—forbid any of the girls to go, even though I am soon to be a married woman and will not have to follow any rules.”
The woman rose an eyebrow in reply. “Why were you so eager to attend the fair, young miss?”
“Oh, I could see many people milling about enjoying themselves as well as the festive banners from my bedchamber window. Besides, I have never been to a fair. I could hear the music and I wanted to be part of the fun. I could only imagine the astonishing things happening and Miss Wickersham unjustly prevented me from attending, especially since I have been an exceptionally good girl lately,” she explained in a breathless rush.
“Have you, now?” The fortune teller looked a bit skeptical as she poured a cup of tea for each of them and passed one to Daisy. “Drink,” she said.
“Yes, I have,” Daisy said, taking a sip of the hot beverage. “I know all of us breaking through the ceiling of her study made Miss Wickersham cross, but it could not be helped. You see, my friends, Cynny, Rosie and I were trying to find out what all the shouting in Miss Wickersham’s study meant, so we used the secret peephole in the upstairs closet.”
“Shouting? And you broke through the ceiling?” The Romani woman’s dark eyes widened and she gave Daisy her undivided attention. “I should like to hear about that.”
“Oh my, a great deal of shouting, even more than the day I carried a piglet inside and it got loose in the dining room.” Daisy reached back and rubbed her bottom. “Miss Wickersham almost wore out her ruler on me. I do not know why it made her so angry, such a small and loveable animal. Not nearly as messy as the time I brought the chickens in to keep them warm during a snowstorm.”
“But why,” Lady Miselda redirected her, “was there shouting in Miss Wickersham’s study and how on earth did you manage to fall through the ceiling?” Lady Miselda held her tea in both hands and gazed at Daisy expectantly.
Never one to shy away from telling a dramatic story, particularly if she had an eager audience, Daisy set about regaling her hostess with an engaging tale of the time, a mere seven days prior, when several events conspired to change the future for Daisy and her dear friend, Cynny.
“And now,” Daisy finally paused after a vivid retelling of the entire tale, “who do you suppose is going to marry Lord Kensington?”
“You!” the woman said with enthusiasm and surprise.
“Yes! Can you believe it? Even though she was angry about us eavesdropping and breaking the ceiling, Miss Wickersham has agreed to allow the marriage. However, Rosie and I did get punished for spying.”
“Miss Wickersham sounds like she can be strict when you are naughty.” Lady Miselda’s dark eyes sparkled with humor and a smile tugged at her lips.
“You are right about that,” Daisy said. “I have had to spend a lot of time in the naughty chair at Talcott House, but Miss Wickersham can also be very nice. She has taken all of us girls in and given us clothes and a safe place to live. And she finds papas for everyone, well, everyone but Garland.” Daisy felt a warm glow in her chest thinking about her own papa, Lord Kensington. Between visiting the fortune teller and getting married, today was the most exciting day of her life, thus far. She exhaled a shaky breath, feeling increasingly giddy over her present location and her impending nuptials to the handsome and kind Lord Kensington.
“A papa?” Lady Miselda reached for a decanter and poured a bit of brown liquid into her tea.
“Yes, a papa is a man who is also a husband and wants a little lady to spoil and love and care for. Miss Wickersham says because we all had difficult lives as children, we deserve to be spoiled so she finds papas to provide for us forever and ever.”
“And Lord Kensington is going to be your papa and your husband?”
“Exactly. I scarcely believe it.”
“Then why have you come here? Why are you not at Talcott House preparing for your wedding?”
“I am still a bit nervous. Can you tell me, will Lord Kensington and I be happy together? Will he love me as much as I love him?”
Lady Miselda smiled at Daisy. “I should be most surprised if he did not find you completely lovable, my child, but let us see what the tea leaves have to say.” She picked up the tea cup which Daisy had emptied after her lengthy explanation. Lady Miselda turned the cup in her hands and tilted it toward the light, her brow furrowed and her bracelets jangling with her every movement.
“What does it say? Please, you must tell me.” Anxiety skittered through Daisy’s body and she wondered if perhaps she had made a bad decision when she sought out the fortune teller. Perhaps she preferred not to know.
After what, to Daisy, seemed like an eternity, Lady Miselda set the cup down and looked at her. The air of mysticism in the tent thickened as the fortune teller’s gaze suddenly took on a faraway look, as if she was truly glimpsing future events in the life Daisy would share with the handsome Lord Kensington who made her tummy flutter every time she thought of him.
“I foresee a long, happy marriage between you and Lord Kensington, but it will not come about without a certain amount of pain and heartache. Both of you have lessons you must learn before true happiness and love can bloom in your marriage.”
“What kind of lessons?” Unease rolled through Daisy.
“You must contend with your impulsiveness and tendency to overreact and jump to conclusions, as well as your tendency to give in to your insecurities. Lord Kensington, on the other hand, is a serious man with a darkness in his past he’s been trying to outrun, but he must learn that one cannot outrun their past, one can only learn to live with it. He must also learn to be more flexible, especially when it comes to you, as he is far too set in his ways. You will help him find the joy which has been missing from his life for so long, and in return he will give you the love, acceptance, and security you’ve always dreamed of, as well as the guidance you require.”
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