Papa’s Joy

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Papa’s Joy Page 15

by Sue Lyndon


  “What of your father and your half-sister?”

  “I never saw them again.”

  “How very sad, indeed. But now you are married and happy, are you not? Why have you sought me out now if this happened years ago?”

  “Oh, Lady Miselda,” she moaned, “that is the most horrible and unexpected part of all. My new home is practically next door to the Hamiltons and what's worse, my papa is friends with them and has invited Lady Millicent to call upon me. I do not necessarily fear Lady Millicent for as I recall she was kind to me and we were friends, or at least as much as was possible between the daughter of an earl and the daughter of a governess. But, her mother, a most uncouth and vile woman, knows the truth—I was born out of wedlock. I am a bastard.” Her voice shook and she could barely say the word.

  “Surely my papa will not want to be married to me any longer when he finds out the truth of my parentage. It is all hopeless. It was foolish of me to believe in a happy ending.” She folded her arms and laid her head on the table and wept.

  She felt Lady Miselda’s soothing hands rubbing her arm. “Now, now child,” she said. “It cannot be as bad as all that. How can I help you?”

  “I do not know,” Daisy wailed. “There is no help for it. Soon my papa will know the truth and I shall be alone again. Where will I go? I have no one. I cannot go back to Talcott House. The only future for me there would be as a helper like Garland. I suppose it would serve me right for teasing her so over the years that I would end up just like her. Oh, it is rich, is it not?” She paused to take a breath and moved to a different option. “Perhaps I could join you and travel to fairs. Oh please, Lady Miselda,” she looked up at her hostess and gripped her hands, “I will be helpful and you could teach me to tell fortunes. Please, will you let me stay here with you?”

  “Stay? What about your husband … papa?”

  “It is all too shameful. I cannot bring such disrepute upon him, particularly not amongst his friends.” As she spoke, Daisy gained confidence in her decision. “Yes, I shall never go back and he can pretend we never met. It will be better that way. I am sorry about your prediction on my wedding day, but we are not soul mates. He will be better off without me.”

  “Please, child. Calm yourself.” Lady Miselda appeared more than a little flummoxed by Daisy’s request. “What about the man who is your father? You said he was kind to you. Would he not offer you some support?”

  “When I first arrived at Talcott House, I had hoped he would come for me. I used to look out the windows and down the long lane imagining the Hamilton family carriage arriving, my handsome father stepping out to take me back to live with him. But he never did. I am without anyone.”

  For a moment Daisy recalled the warmth of her papa’s arms and how safe and loved she felt with him. “I will always take care of you, Daisy. Always, no matter what.” The tender words he’d spoken to her not long ago filled her head, and she prayed the no matter what part would hold true if her worst fears were realized and Papa discovered her secret.

  “Is it possible,” Lady Miselda spoke softly, interrupting Daisy’s plunge into heartache, “you simply need protection from those who would do you harm?”

  “This is hardly a simple matter,” Daisy said with a sniffle.

  “Ah, child, there is always hope. And hope can lead to joy.”

  “I have no hope. Have you not heard what I have told you?” Not even Lady Miselda could understand the direness of her situation.

  With a smile, Lady Miselda waved both her hands above her head, the bracelets clinking and clattering as she did so. Then she lowered her arms and ran her fingers over the golden ringlets, finally settling on one which she removed and held out to Daisy. “This,” she said, “is a powerful bracelet. You might have noticed I have many adorning my arms, they are all for a different purpose.”

  Daisy took the proffered piece of jewelry and studied it. Her fingers tingled where they met the shiny piece of golden metal and with that tingle, a tiny sliver of hope formed in her heart. Looking closely, she noticed etchings in the surface. “Is it a lion?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Yes,” Lady Miselda answered. “The king of the jungle. The bravest of all the animals. He will protect you. None who wish to harm you will be able to do so, as long as you wear this bracelet.”

  Daisy gasped. “It cannot be true.”

  “Do you doubt my powers?” Lady Miselda asked and Daisy feared she may have offended the fortune teller so she slipped the bracelet onto her arm. A strange jolt of energy surged through her.

  Daisy stared at the exotic Lady Miselda then at the bracelet. Dared she to hope?

  “Now, run along, child,” Lady Miselda said. “I am sure your husband is wondering where you got off to.” The fortune teller dropped a kiss on Daisy’s forehead and a sense of peace flowed over her.

  She hugged Lady Miselda. “Thank you. I promise not to take it off. Ever.”

  She hurried back to Kensington Manor, the magical bracelet firmly around her wrist. In her rush, she forgot about Hamilton Manor and turned up that block instead of the street on the opposite side which she had used earlier. When she realized her mistake, she rubbed her hand over the bracelet and scurried past the house of bad memories and did not let out her breath until she reached the last post of the exterior fence.

  Just past the park, she could see Kensington Manor. Only a few more steps and she would be inside and Papa would be none the wiser. She congratulated herself on the many bits of good fortune which had befallen her thus far and felt confident she would achieve her goal.

  The front door to Kensington Manor opened and she froze in place as she saw Papa bidding good-bye to Lady Hamilton and Lady Millicent. No, no, no. She did not expect them to call on her today. The appointment was for next week. And if they had spoken to Papa he knew she was not at home. Furthermore, Papa had told her only Lady Millicent was going to call upon her. He hadn’t said a word about Lady Hamilton joining her daughter on the visit. Oh, how could this be happening?

  Blast them. Not only was Papa going to be angry with her, but more immediately, the two women were headed in her direction. Despite her faith in Lady Miselda’s bracelet, she jumped between two shrubs and did her best to blend into the hedgerow. She would have liked to burrow deeper into the underbrush but the Hamilton women walked more swiftly than she expected so Daisy decided to hold still rather than risk movement which might attract their attention.

  Clasping her wrists together so she could feel the outline of the lion on the bracelet, Daisy hoped for a measure of invisibility, as though such a thing were possible. She gasped when she caught sight of them. Though several years had passed and Lady Hamilton had moved firmly into middle age while Lady Millicent had matured into an attractive young woman, seeing them sent Daisy back to some of her earliest memories: her mother teaching Lady Millicent in the nursery while Daisy did her own lessons off to the side. Her mother’s attentions were meant solely for Lady Millicent while she was on duty, though Lady Millie had been as confused by the situation as Daisy. “But, do we not both need to learn French?” she had asked. On those mornings when Lady Hamilton was making calls and catching up on neighborhood gossip, Daisy’s mother had tutored both girls together. Those were happy times in the schoolroom. Occasionally Lord Hamilton even stopped in to check their progress. He was always very attentive to Daisy’s mother which made Daisy think very well of him, even more so than for the kindnesses he had extended to her.

  Daisy’s throat closed off from emotions and she forced herself to breath carefully so as not to alert the passersby to her presence.

  “Honestly, Mother, why must you always visit people when they are least expecting you? It is rude and unladylike.”

  “Given enough advance warning, even a pauper can put on a show for a few minutes and fool most of the people most of the time. I have no confidence in Edward’s choice to select a bride from a-a foundling home.” Lady Hamilton harrumphed emphatically and stopped directly i

n front of Daisy’s hiding place. “It is the intermingling of the classes which will bring the downfall to our society.”

  “Perhaps he loves her,” Lady Millicent said.

  “Pish. He could have loved you just as easily if only you had tried a bit harder.”

  “Mother,” Lady Millicent took a forceful position in front of her mother and only a hair’s breadth from Daisy’s face. Beneath her fashionable skirt, Millie’s leg was shaking, but to her credit, she stood up to her mother. “I shall acknowledge that years ago—I had feelings for Edward. However, those were the emotions of a girl who had rarely interacted with gentlemen.”

  “And now you have had a season and you think you know all there is to know about men and marriage, is that it?”

  “I know I shall only marry for love. I have seen the toll an unloving marriage takes—on an entire family.”

  By this time Daisy had both hands over her mouth to prevent numerous audible gasps from exploding out of her. Millie was not the sweet, agreeable girl Daisy remembered. She was impressed with her fortitude, for Lady Hamilton was not a woman to be taken lightly.

  “Your father would have loved me. If not for that...that governess.” The final word fell from her lips as though it were the bitterest of pills which Lady Hamilton simply could not swallow.

  “Perhaps,” Lady Millicent said, her tone taking on a hard edge, “had you not used flim flam to gull Father into proposing, he might have come to care for you.”

  Daisy crammed her knuckles into her mouth to prevent herself from gasping at such a shocking admission, though upon reflection, she believed the claim sensible. Even before she knew the truth of her relationship to Lord Hamilton, Daisy had often wondered at the circumstances which had brought two such poorly suited people into marriage. Her mind whirled. What sort of trickery had the devious woman used?

  Lady Hamilton gaped at her daughter, then narrowed her eyes and spoke with an ominous hiss, “Why, you impertinent brat. I ought to slap you and believe me, if we were not in public I would. There was no chicanery involved. Your father simply needed a helping hand in moving him along.”

  “Bah, and once he learned of your deception, he was too much of a gentleman to cry off.”

  Daisy dared a glance at Lady Hamilton and a knot formed in her stomach. The woman was positively enraged, her eyes wide, nostrils flaring.

  Lady Millicent continued. “Are you so filled with vitriol the idea of any happy marriage causes you to wish for its demise? Is that the reason for your eagerness to see to the failure of the new Lady Kensington?”

  “Has it not occurred to you, my as yet to be courted daughter, that the more gentlemen who find brides through non-traditional means—ways not in keeping with tradition and expectations—the fewer suitable spouses will be available for the right people. Proper young ladies such as yourself, from the right families.” Lady Hamilton turned on her heel and stormed away from her daughter.

  The blood drained from Daisy’s face and her heart thudded so loudly in her ears she did not catch Lady Millicent’s reply to her mother, but to her vast relief the daughter followed after the mother. Once they made the turn onto their property, Daisy slowly let out the breath she had been holding, Lady Hamilton’s harsh words and Lady Millicent’s shocking disclosure ringing in her ears.

  Chapter 16

  As she watched Lady Hamilton and her daughter complete their journey home, Daisy’s head spun. Although she had already realized the woman who had caused no small amount of pain and grief to her mother and then to Daisy herself—Lady Hamilton—lived only a matter of yards from her new home with her beloved papa, seeing her again after so many years stabbed Daisy with anger and humiliation as though no time had passed at all since the day she was banished from Hamilton Manor.

  Feverish and ill, spirited off by Lord Hamilton’s trusted steward, she had huddled next to the man who had been ordered to take her in the gig—the smallest of all the Hamilton family’s conveyances. It had no roof and she was forced to hold the satchel containing the few items she had been permitted to take along—although a maid had packed her belongings, Daisy learned that effort was simply to erase any evidence of her existence. Too ill to notice or care, Daisy realized the maid had kindly slipped some personal articles and mementos from Daisy’s mother into a modest case which made its way to the gig and Daisy clutched it to her chest as they sped away from the only home she had ever known.

  Once they were outside of the city, the carriage had stopped and Vickers had taken off his coat and draped it over her. “My apologies, miss,” he had said, “Lady Hamilton’s orders are to take you to the workhouse and leave you there.” Even in the fog of her fevered brain, Daisy understood enough for a tremor of terror to shudder through her body.

  “P-please,” she had begged, “please do not abandon me. What shall I do?”

  “That old bat has been running roughshod over the lot of us for years and I have had my fill. If she ever finds out, it will cost me my job and any chance at a reference, but I have another idea.”

  “Anything else would be better. Please, you must help me.”

  “Do not worry yourself, miss. Try to get some rest. I expect we will be at Talcott House before noon.”

  “Tal...what?”

  “Hush. You need your rest.”

  Sleep overcame Daisy and the next thing she remembered was arriving at the front gate of Talcott House. She looked up and saw Miss Wickersham’s face filled with consternation and she had reared back in fear. “Do not be afraid, child,” she had said, “I am not angry with you, but with the circumstances which have brought you here. Come along. Your new life awaits.”

  Thinking back, Daisy could not help but chuckle now. She wondered if Miss Wickersham had had any idea then of the amount of trouble Daisy would cause her over the years.

  But now, she was back in Lady Hamilton’s crosshairs, though Lady Hamilton had no idea of Daisy’s identity. Yet. It was one thing for Lady Hamilton to dislike her due to the circumstances of her birth, it was quite another for her to hate her without even having met her.

  It did not surprise Daisy in the least. Evil emanated from Lady Hamilton. Daisy ran her fingers over the bracelet from Lady Miselda. She wanted to have faith in the power of the bracelet with the lion on it, but she wondered if Lady Miselda had any idea the type of person who threatened Daisy’s happiness.

  Somehow she had survived that horrible experience and now she had a new home and a papa who loved her.

  And who would assuredly tan her hide as soon as he found her. From her hiding place in the bushes she noticed a great deal of activity in the gardens of Kensington Manor. No doubt Papa had sent them all in search of her once the vexatious Lady Hamilton had called—a whole week early and herself not even part of the invitation, no less—and revealed Daisy’s absence. Without trying, that woman had a way of making Daisy’s day disastrous.

  She ought to go back home and let the household know the search could be halted as there was no cause for alarm. She hated the idea of anyone worrying or spending their time scouring the area for her.

  More than that, however, she needed time. Time to think in solitude. Once Papa found her, the most dire of punishments awaited her and she could not dispute she deserved it. She needed just a short amount of time to prepare herself for the confrontation and to sort out all of the things which had happened in the short time since breakfast.

  She could not hide in the bushes. Where could she spend some time undisturbed? Then she recalled the bedchamber at the end of the hall on the second floor. Papa had taken her inside every room on the second floor, save this particular room. He’d been vague about his reasons, but he had expressly forbidden her from ever opening the door.

  She suspected perhaps the room had belonged to a departed loved one and had decided to not question him at the moment, for a look of sadness had entered his dark eyes. Furthermore, she had been driven to distraction by his earlier promise of claiming her thoroughly in hi
s bedchamber once their tour of the second floor was complete. After noting the flicker of sadness in his gaze, she had hoped the intimacies he had planned for them would lighten his mood, or at least distract him from his sadness, and she had decided the sooner they reached his bedchamber, the better.

  Hopefully the door to the bedchamber at the end of the hall would not be locked, though if it was, she supposed she could attempt to pick the lock with a pin from her hair.

  * * *

  Despite the army of servants searching for her, Daisy had no trouble gaining entrance and making her way to the second floor of Kensington Manor without detection. Had she not perfected the ability to get past the ever vigilant Garland? Papa’s servants were mere chawbacons in comparison.

  “This room is to be kept closed up, and you are not to enter it—you are not even to attempt opening the door to peek inside—under any circumstances, young lady. Is that clear?

  Papa’s orders to leave this room alone echoed in her head and sent a cold shudder through her, but she pressed on, taking a pin from her hair to pick the lock and slip inside.

  Leaning against the door, her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. Making her way to the large window, she pulled back the heavy drapes and allowed some light to enter, which enabled her to take in her surroundings properly.

  Slowly her gaze moved around the room, her heart thudding in her chest.

  A woman. A woman lived here. Or had. The feminine decor bespoke a lady had resided here as loudly as Papa’s bedchamber announced his masculinity.

  Though only in residence at Kensington Manor for one week, she had not seen or heard mention of a lady in the house. Why had her papa not told her? He had said he lived alone before Daisy’s arrival.

  A whirl of possibilities spun in her brain, everything from a princess in hiding to a madwoman sheltered from society. With extreme caution, she peeked beneath the bed, wondering if the mysterious occupant might be cowering there, but all she saw was the high shine of a well-polished floor. So, at least some of the help had been admitted to the room. Why had she not heard or seen them?

 
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