The Undoing of Daisy Edwards (A Time for Scandal) by Marguerite Kaye Read Free Book Online

Daisy,’ he said softly. ‘I recognised it the moment I saw you. But it’s not just that you’re scared. It’s not just that you don’t want to have your heart broken again. That’s not the only reason you’ve got more armour-plating than a tank. You’re alive, Daisy, and he’s not. You can’t bring him back, but you can make sure you don’t enjoy what he hasn’t got. Sounds like guilt to me.’
    ‘And I bet it sounds familiar, too!’ I whipped round to face him then. ‘Is that why you won’t use your title, Lord Harrington?’ I threw at him. It was a low blow, and I was betraying Grace’s confidence, which I’d told myself I wouldn’t do, but I was hurt and angry and furious because he was right.
    ‘I don’t use my title because it’s not mine,’ Dominic said, his face set, obviously as angry as me, though a lot more in control.
    ‘It is yours. Just as that great big country estate is yours. Closing it up and pretending it doesn’t exist won’t bring your brother back, but what it will do is allow your mother to keep on pretending he’s not dead.’
    ‘Is that what Grace says?’ Finally, I bit my tongue. ‘She does,’ Dominic continued, ushering me out of the restaurant. ‘Did she also tell you that my mother can’t bear to look at me? That one of the reasons she put an ocean between us is because every time she sees me she wishes I was Jeremy?’
    We were back out in the street. ‘Dominic, I’m sure that’s not true.’
    ‘It’s late,’ he said, hailing a passing hackney cab and opening the door for me.
    I could have kicked myself. He was so determined not to let me see he was hurt, I knew it must be bad. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said pathetically.
    He shrugged. ‘Don’t be. You were right. We’re not ordinary people. Dinner was my mistake.’
    He closed the door and gave my address to the driver. He didn’t come with me. I couldn’t ask him to. I watched him as we drove away. He didn’t move. Just stood there on the kerb staring. I didn’t sleep.
    Dominic
    I didn’t think she’d come. Two weeks since that night at the Renaud’s restaurant, and there had been no communication of any sort between us. A lot of thinking on my part. A lot of talking between myself and Grace. My sister sailed for New York in a couple of weeks. I told her that I didn’t have any sway with the police there. She laughed and said she’d just have to try a lot harder not to get arrested. Things were—better between us. Not good, but better. She made me promise to sort out Harrington House. She also made me promise to see Daisy. The first I wasn’t so sure about. The second I needed no persuading.
    Still, I didn’t think she’d come. I knew she hadn’t seen Grace. I also knew from Grace that she’d been keeping away from the Café de Paris and all the other places where she used to prop up the bar. She could have been drinking her martinis at home, but when she walked into my office at the airfield, she didn’t look as if she’d touched a martini in a while.
    Black. She was wearing black. Long coat, lying open. Underneath it she had on one of those dresses that looked as if she’d been stitched into it. Demure. Long sleeves. High neck. But that just drew attention to the body beneath. And that body made mine tense with anticipation.
    She closed the door behind her, behind my fascinated secretary and equally fascinated accounts clerk, and shimmied over to my desk. ‘I didn’t think I’d hear from you again.’
    ‘I’ve been busy.’ I pulled out a chair for her. ‘Thanks to you, I’ve been busy.’ I told her about Grace.
    ‘New York,’ she said. ‘That’s a big new city to get into trouble in.’
    I laughed. ‘My sister’s words, almost exactly.’
    ‘You think the change of scene will do her good?’
    ‘The war isn’t there, in New York. Not in your face. And our mother
is
there. Grace seems set on—on opening her eyes, is how she put it.’
    Daisy raised her brows. ‘Did you