The Bride Raffle (18 page)

O
wen frowned. Reeling with the need to bash that smug look from Conrad Parish’s odious face, he clenched his fists again.

His whole body quivered, eager to deliver as many punishing blows as he could. So infuriated that he could scarcely see, Owen blinked. He made himself focus on the money on the barrel.

He could probably get more. Maybe he should try—for Daisy’s sake. Owen had already raised the ante once. That would help Daisy for certain. Parish was desperate, conniving and about as trustworthy as a bucket of rats. Owen didn’t believe he would keep his word not to slander Daisy. Until Owen could be sure…

Damnation. He could never be sure. That was the hell of it. “You won’t say another word about Daisy,” Owen specified.

“Never.” Parish touched his breastbone. “On my honor.”

At that, Owen almost laughed. Conrad Parish had no honor. His talk about Daisy—and his willingness to betray
her—proved that much. But he wanted the repellent man gone. He wanted him gone before Daisy wandered downstairs and discovered him there.

He wanted him gone. Period. So, coldly, Owen accepted Parish’s handshake. “Yes.” He bit out the words. “We have a deal.”

“Hurrah!” Laughing, Parish waved his arms. “Well. Now that
that
little chore is settled, why don’t we talk about—”

“Get out,” Owen said. “I never want to see you again.”

“Hold on!” Parish protested. “There’s no need to be rude.” He gave Owen a devious look. “In fact, why don’t you stop by the Lorndorff Hotel later tonight. I’m hosting a party there with Astair Prestell. It would only be fair if you’d join us for a game of faro. Give me a chance to recoup my recent investment?”

Investment?
He called abandoning Daisy and her baby a damn
investment?
Owen had never heard anything more heartless.

“Get out.” Blinded by rage, he made a fist. “Now.”

“No! Wait!” came another voice. “Not so fast.
Please
.”

At the sound of that femininely voiced
please,
Owen froze.

Daisy was here.
Daisy.
If she’d heard what Conrad Parish had said about her… Protectively, Owen turned toward her. The sight of her stricken, tear-streaked face left him little doubt. She
had
heard Conrad Parish. The man had hurt her—again.

Newly enraged at the realization, Owen tensed his entire body, ready to defend her. This was not the scenario he’d envisioned when he’d sent for Parish. This was not the outcome he’d expected when he’d gambled on wiring Parish that Daisy was expecting. This was a million times worse.

It was better, Owen told himself dismally, that Daisy knew
the truth now. It was better that she understood her baby’s father was a scurrilous, unfeeling bastard before she wasted even more time caring about him. But none of that made it any easier for Owen to take in Daisy’s wounded expression, her tearful eyes…her proudly held chin.

“Ah! Daisy.” Parish gave a mocking bow. His gaze swept over her. It lingered, with contempt, on her middle, then rose to her face with sham courtesy. “You’re looking…robust these days! Morrow Creek certainly does agree with you.”

“Yes. It does.” Daisy cast a tremulous glance at Owen. She closed her eyes. Then, after drawing in a wobbly breath, she opened her eyes again, fixing her attention on Parish. “I assume you’re responsible for bringing my luggage and books?”

“Well.” Another smirk. “
I
certainly had no use for them.”

“Of course not.” Daisy inclined her head. “Thank you.”

Owen shifted, frustrated with their polite exchange. Had Daisy not understood what a dog Parish was? Had she
not
heard?

Owen tried to catch her eye. Daisy was having none of it.

“Before you leave, Conrad,” she told her speaking-tour manager instead, “I’ll be needing something from you, too.”

“Oh?” The man sent an amused glance toward Owen. Belatedly, Parish seemed to realize Owen was
not
his ally in belittling Daisy. He sobered. “What might that be?” Parish hooked his thumb toward the stable’s doors. “I was just on my way out—”

“An apology,” Daisy said. “You owe me an apology.”

At that, Parish couldn’t contain his mirth. “An
apology?
”

“Yes. An apology for bullying me all these months,” Daisy said relentlessly. “An apology for hurting me. An apology for—”

“Look at you, making demands!” Parish interrupted
nastily. “Do you expect me to apologize for your bastard baby, too?”

Owen could scarcely breathe, he was so surprised by the depths of Parish’s meanness. But Daisy only shook her head.

“My baby is a gift and a blessing,” she said with her head high, “and nothing will make me believe otherwise. So, no. Don’t apologize for that. But
do
apologize for all the rest—and for making me believe I wasn’t any good at cooking and baking and home keeping, despite my credentials and experience and—”

“Well, Barker & Bowles
did
create several opportunities—”

“It’s got nothing to do with Barker & Bowles.” Daisy crossed her arms, appearing, Owen thought then, quite magnificent in her certainty. “It’s got to do with
me
. I didn’t know that before, but I know it now—thanks to being here. You lied, Conrad!” Daisy told him, her voice trembling with emotion. “You lied over and over again. You made me believe I’d simply gotten lucky, lucky to be chosen, lucky to be published by Barker & Bowles, lucky to be touring and speaking. But the truth is—”

“I don’t have to listen to this!” Parish cast a disgusted glance at Owen. “Our business is done. I’m—”

Listening,
Owen was about to demand.
Then apologizing
.

But Daisy beat him to it. “The truth is,” she continued doggedly, “I’m
very
good at cooking and baking and homemaking, Conrad. I’m good at speaking about all those things, too! I’m
excellent
at them. And it’s about time you told me so.”

Appearing momentarily speechless, Parish frowned.

Daisy, for her part, merely waited, appearing surprisingly formidable. Owen wasn’t sure where she’d found the courage to confront Parish this way, but he was glad she had. For her sake.

“Very well.” Parish spoke quickly. Peevishly. “You’re
eminently qualified, Daisy. You truly are. Barker & Bowles know it, and so do I.” He inhaled, looking pained. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Daisy’s hands shook. “That’s all I wanted.”

Parish darted her a skeptical glance. “That’s all?”

“Well, that…” Daisy skewered him with a fierce look. “And all the money you skimmed from my speaking-engagement fees, too. You owe me, Conrad. You took much more than your fair share.”

Stunned, Owen stared at her. He’d suspected something was amiss when Parish had quit discussing his current tour duties so abruptly. But it hadn’t occurred to him that Parish might have stolen outright from Daisy. The man just got worse and worse.

She was well shot of him, Owen thought. From here on, Daisy had Owen to take care of her. And her brother, Thomas. And she had Élodie—along with most of the townspeople—to love her, too.

She didn’t need Conrad Parish to approve of her or help her. Evidently, Daisy had decided the same thing for herself.

Parish swallowed hard. “The rest of my money is in my room at the Lorndorff Hotel. I didn’t expect to need more than—”

His gaze shifted tellingly to the cash on the barrel.

At the sight of it, Owen wanted to cringe. It was horrible to see it there—blatant proof of Parish’s disregard for Daisy.

“—that to see me through the afternoon.” Uncomfortably, Parish tugged his shirt collar again. “I’ll give you the money—”

“Along with a full accounting,” Daisy specified, seeming to draw strength from her success so far. “I know you kept a ledger. It should be easy enough for you to square up with me.”

“‘Square up’?” Parish snickered. “You sound like a yokel.”

Owen growled, frankly at the end of his patience with the man. His utterance, however primitive, got Parish’s attention.

“You’re lucky you have Mr. Cooper, here,” he told Daisy in a slightly more amiable tone. “He might be a bit…uncivilized, but he
did
get me here. That was more than you could have done.”

At that, Daisy’s composure wobbled, just a bit.

“I knew you were expecting, of course.” Parish gave an airy wave. “Any man would have. You were thick in the middle. You were vomiting constantly.” He ticked off those two items on his fingers, then reached the third. “You were annoyingly weepy—”

Owen stepped forward, making another threatening sound.

“No.” Daisy held up her palm. “I want to hear this.”

“All the signs were there,” Parish said blithely. “So when you jumped off my train to come here—” his scornful gaze indicted the stable, everyone in it and the neighborly town beyond “—I was glad to be rid of you. And now I’m glad to be leaving you.”

Appearing buffeted by his words, Daisy teetered. Visibly upset, she patted her skirts in place. Then she lifted her head.

Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. But when she spoke again, her voice was steady. “Yes. And I’m glad you’ll be gone.”

For a moment they only stared at one another—Parish with unconcealed malevolence; Daisy with sorrowful resignation.

She broke the silence first. “I’ll visit your hotel later to collect my fees. Thank you for your apology. You can leave.”

Parish smirked, obviously having no intention of complying with Daisy’s request. Owen felt increasingly fed up.

“Goodbye, Conrad,” Daisy said more firmly, holding her head high. “Please leave me alone and don’t ever come back.”

Parish opened his mouth. He stared at Daisy. He frowned. Then, as though suddenly seeing the woman he’d abandoned and betrayed through new—and ashamed—eyes, Parish hung his head.

That was purely fitting, Owen knew. He’d be ashamed too, if Daisy were as disappointed and hurt by something he’d done.

Seeming downright cowed by Daisy’s certainty, Parish nodded. Perhaps he’d finally glimpsed the truth, Owen thought—that Daisy was a better person than he could ever hope to be.

“I won’t bother you again,” Conrad said. “Good luck, Daisy.” Then he scurried away, suit coat flapping, leaving the stable with as much dignity as, Owen surmised, he did anything.

Which was no dignity at all. Heartily glad to see the knuck pull foot, Owen released a pent-up breath. He turned to Daisy, feeling the tension whoosh from his shoulders instantly. For her sake—for all she’d just accomplished—Owen felt elated.

“First,” he said, “you were remarkable! I’m truly impressed by the way you stood up to Parish.” Fondly, Owen grinned. “I don’t think he knew what hit him! He flopped like a carp, then folded like a gambler with a bad hand. Good for you, Daisy.”

Oddly enough, she didn’t look at Owen. She only gazed out the open stable doors, watching Conrad Parish disappear.

Slowly, Daisy turned. “‘First,’ you said? What’s second?”

Her tone sounded…peculiarly distant. Wondering at that,
Owen frowned. But he wanted this ugly endeavor finished, once and for all. So he scooped up the wad of bills from the barrel. He reached for Daisy’s hand. Tenderly, he squeezed her fingers.

“This is second. And final. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. But since it has…” Owen pressed the bundle of money into Daisy’s palm. Solemnly he closed her fingers around the whole sum. “For you,” he said. “Now you’ll never have to worry again. You’ll never have to struggle. You’ll never have to depend on a lying, cowardly bastard—on a scoundrel of a man like—”

“Like you?” Daisy asked.

Stricken, Owen stared at her. “No. Like Parish.”

Maybe she was joking, he thought. Maybe she was over-wrought, strained and distressed by the events of the day.

Daisy frowned down at the cash. To his bafflement, she did not accept it. “But aren’t you forgetting something?”

“I don’t think so.” Why didn’t she take the money?

Daisy pushed the whole bundle back at him. With conviction, she said, “You’re forgetting to take your share. Take it.”

“My share?” Owen frowned, not sure what she meant.

“In fact,” she said, sounding increasingly upset as she pushed away the money, “take it all! I don’t want any of it.”

“But I got this money for
you
,” Owen said, still mystified by her reaction. This was the most valuable assurance he could have offered her. Didn’t she understand that? He hadn’t
wanted
to resort to bargaining with Parish. He still felt sullied by the effort. “I got this money for you and the baby.”

“Truly?” Daisy jerked up her chin again. “And if I hadn’t come downstairs to the stable at just that moment? If I hadn’t overheard you making your awful deal? What then, Owen? Hmm?” With more tears in her eyes, she jabbed his chest. “Would you have upped the ante once more? Would you have
made an even bigger bet against me, like a true gambler? Or would you have sold me out for even less scratch, just to feel a part of the game again?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I have to give you credit,” Daisy went on, her voice cracking. “You’re almost charming enough to sell me on your innocence. If I didn’t know you, I might actually believe you.”

That was low. And markedly confusing. Giving up for now on peaceably giving her the money, Owen pocketed the lot of it for safekeeping. Gutted by the accusing look on Daisy’s face, he reached for her. “What do you think was happening here?”

“Well. I’d say that’s fairly obvious, isn’t it?”

“No.” Owen reached for her. She jerked away. “Tell me.”

“You met me—alone and vulnerable,” Daisy said, her voice quivering with emotion. “You knew yourself—a born gambler and thief, eager for some fast takings. So you wired Conrad—”

“To come fetch you! To be with you!” Stonily, Owen stared at her, hardly able to believe Daisy would throw his past in his face this way. “I thought that you loved him,” he choked out, “so—”

“So you took me to your bed? How did that fit into your grand scheme, Owen?” Daisy’s plaintive gaze collided with his…then swiveled away sadly. “I never loved Conrad. I loved—”