The Inheritance (6 page)

Daisy had to confess that the flamboyant decorations matched Priss’s personality. Part of the reason she liked Priss so much was that her friend never based her decisions on what other people thought. She was true to her own muse.

Daisy envied her that freedom but had no desire to emulate her. She would have felt suffocated living in such crowded surroundings. Instead, she had chosen the furnishings at Severn for their simplicity and comfort. She ignored the trends and kept the furniture to a minimum so every room felt spacious. She not only had no heavy velvet curtains on her windows, several rooms had no curtains at all. Sunlight was allowed to stream in and brighten the space.

Daisy’s attention was drawn back to the matter at hand when Priss spoke.

“Who’s this?” she asked, surveying Colin critically.

“May I present Mr. Colin Calloway, from America. This is my friend, the Countess of Rotherham.”

Colin practiced his bow again and did a very creditable job of it.

“Well done,” Daisy praised.

Colin grinned. “I may just get the hang of this before I return home.”

Which reminded Daisy why she had sought out her friend. Colin and his father were planning to be
in England only long enough to liquidate the duke’s assets. Then they would be returning to Texas. Daisy was wondering how she was going to manage a private conversation with Priss, when the problem was solved for her.

Daisy watched Colin’s blue eyes widen and noticed the stricken look on his face as Priss’s seventeen-year-old stepdaughter entered the room.

“I heard a male voice,” the girl said. “Oh,” she said when she noticed Colin.

Colin stiffened as she approached him and looked up into his face—he was a good head taller than she—with open curiosity.

“Roanna,” Priss admonished. “Where are your manners?”

The girl flushed and lowered her lashes demurely. “I’m sorry, Priss.”

The two young people stood there tongue-tied, unable to move or to speak.

Daisy could see why Colin was bewitched. Lady Roanna Warenne was an English pocket Venus. She had blond curls that framed her face and wide-set blue eyes with long, feathery lashes and a complexion of peaches and cream. She was tiny, but her body curved in all the right places.

She was dressed in a princess sheath that was figure-fitting to below the hips. A row of dark blue buttons began at her throat and led the eye down below her waist. The bodice and skirt were powder blue, while the sleeves and overlay of the skirt were done in a contrasting fabric of dotted blue that matched the buttons. Fine white lace ringed her throat and her wrists.

However, it was Roanna’s open admiration of
Colin, as much as her looks, that held the young man spellbound.

Priss appeared undecided whether to introduce Roanna or send her away. Daisy took matters into her own hands. “Lady Roanna Warenne, this is Mr. Colin Calloway, from America. Colin is His Grace’s son.”

Colin’s heels snapped together so quickly they made an audible sound. His bow, only his third so far as Daisy was aware, was as polished as though he had been bowing to ladies for a lifetime.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Roanna.”

Roanna’s blush turned her cheeks rosy. Her eyelashes fluttered up once for a quick, impish look at Colin before they lowered once more.

Colin was smitten, Daisy saw. And realized suddenly how she was going to manage her private conversation with Priss. “Why don’t you show Mr. Calloway around the gardens, Roanna,” she suggested.

Roanna turned to her stepmother for confirmation that a stroll with the young man would be acceptable.

“Take your maid with you and a shawl,” Priss said. The countess called a footman to find Priss’s maid and to inform the maid to bring the girl’s shawl. Luckily, this was accomplished quickly, or the two young people might have burned up from the series of hot flushes that came and went on their cheeks as they tried not to stare at each other.

When Colin and Roanna were gone, Priss settled herself on a winged chair before the fire, which burned even in the summer, and gestured Daisy to the chair opposite her. “I’m not so sure that was a wise thing to do, sending them off together,” Priss
said. “They’re too attracted to each other for my peace of mind. Although, I must say, it isn’t like Roanna to be attracted to a young man her own age. And in such disreputable attire! Did I hear you say Colin is His Grace’s son?”

“I suspect Mr. Colin Calloway is more mature than an Englishman his age would be,” Daisy said. “And yes, he’s Nicholas’s son, though not legitimate, apparently.”

Priss raised a brow. “Does he know how to behave as a gentleman?”

“If he doesn’t, I’m sure Roanna will correct him,” Daisy said with a smile.

“I suppose you’re right,” Priss conceded. “Now, I’d like to know what sent you haring over here like this. Obviously, the new duke has arrived. What is he like?”

“He’s impossible!”

Priss raised a brow. “Oh?”

Daisy found it hard to sit, as agitated as she felt. She rose and began pacing in front of the fire. “He plans to sell Severn Manor! None of the land is entailed, and he wants to dispose of everything as quickly as he can and return to America.”

“Good heavens! What are you going to do?”

“What can I do? Find someplace to live and remove myself from Severn.”

“Without a fight?” Priss asked. “That doesn’t sound like the Daisy Windermere I’ve come to know over the past year. That Daisy would be making plans to change the duke’s mind.”

“She would?”

“She would.”

Daisy sat but fidgeted in her seat. “As a matter of fact, I did try arguing with His Grace this morning.”

“And?”

“He kissed me.”

“Why, Daisy, how wonderful! If the duke is attracted to you, that would solve everything. You can simply convince him to propose and—”

“What!” Daisy leapt from her seat again. “What are you suggesting, Priss?”

Priss sat forward in her chair. “It’s perfect, don’t you see? If you marry the duke he won’t want to go back to America. And if he stays in England, of course he won’t want to sell Severn Manor.
Voilá!
All your problems are solved.”

“Except I’d be married to that barbarian!” Daisy said. “Besides, I have it straight from the horse’s mouth, he doesn’t ever intend to marry.”

“No man ever intends to marry,” Priss said with a shrewd smile. “It’s up to us to convince them that they can’t live without us.”

Daisy chewed worriedly on her lower lip. “I don’t know. It sounds like a buffleheaded scheme to me. Besides, I wouldn’t know the first thing about attracting a man. I married Tony out of the schoolroom, and the match was arranged by my parents.”

“It’s easy,” Priss assured her. “You’ve got a head start if he’s already kissed you.”

“His Grace did that to intimidate me,” Daisy said with asperity.

“Did he enjoy it?”

“How should I know?”

Priss made a moue. “Come, Daisy, you aren’t that naive.”

“All right,” she said. “He enjoyed it. Or, at least, he was aroused by it.”

“The two—arousal and enjoyment—are connected for men, I believe,” Priss confided. “Now, we need a plan of attack.”

“I haven’t agreed to this,” Daisy protested.

“Have you a better idea?”

Daisy stopped in her tracks and stared at her friend. “The benefit to me is obvious if I marry His Grace. What is he going to get out of it? I tell you it won’t work.”

“Daisy, Daisy,” Priss admonished. “Has it been so long since Tony died? What is His Grace going to get out of it, indeed! A charming and beautiful hostess for his table, an able helpmate dealing with his tenants, and a lovely companion in his bed.”

Daisy flushed.

“Have I spoken too bluntly? But I thought we could say anything to each other,” Priss said. “It also seems to me that this is a time for plain speaking.”

“Yes, it is,” Daisy said, dropping into the chair across from Priss once more. “I came here today hoping that if I spoke with you I could come up with some course of action that would save me from the disaster that looms, both for myself and the tenants and servants of Severn. I hadn’t thought to make so great a sacrifice.…”

“You see marriage to the duke as a sacrifice?” Priss asked incredulously. “Is he unhandsome, Daisy? Or cruel, do you think? Or profligate, perhaps?”

Daisy chewed on her lower lip. “He’s quite good-looking, in a savage sort of way,” she confessed. “I
don’t think he’s particularly kind, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call him cruel, either. I have no idea whether he’s a wastrel or a spendthrift. To be honest, I don’t know very much about him.”

Except he makes your toes curl when he kisses you
.

Daisy cleared her throat before continuing. “I would gladly sacrifice myself in a marriage to that barbarian if I thought it would make a difference to those who depend on Severn for their livelihoods. Perhaps as his wife I could convince him to stay here.” Daisy flushed as she realized what inducements she might use to bind the duke to her and to Severn. “Only I have no earthly idea how to get him to propose.”

Priss snorted. It was a totally uncountesslike sound. “You underestimate yourself, Daisy. You’re a beautiful young woman. He’s a man. There’s no reason why you can’t get him to propose marriage.”

Daisy rose and began pacing again, like a sleek cat in a small cage. “Don’t, Priss. Can’t you see how impossible all this is? I simply can’t do it. I’m not like you. I don’t know how to flirt. I haven’t the vaguest idea how to attract a man’s attention.”

“You got him to kiss you,” Priss retorted.

Daisy flushed. “That may be true, but I’m not sure exactly what I did to provoke him into it.”

“Trust me. You’ll figure it out,” Priss said.

“Do you really think a savage like His Grace can be tamed enough to make a docile husband?”

Priss shook her head. “No, of course not. But you wouldn’t want a docile husband.”

“Tony—”

“Tony is dead and best left in the grave,” Priss
said. “Whatever he was, he wasn’t a husband to you. Not in the year I knew you before he died, anyway.”

“How dare you—”

Priss rose and confronted her friend. “I dare because I’ve come to care about you over the past two years. You’re the sister I never had, Daisy. I’ve never before said a word against Tony, but I’m warning you, don’t hold him up to me as the model of a good husband. He wasn’t.”

“But I loved him!”

Priss put a hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “Yes, you did, more’s the pity. He didn’t deserve you. But that was then, and this is now. You have to start thinking about yourself and what you want.”

“I want to stay at Severn Manor,” Daisy said. She would never have children, but there were others for whom she could and did care. “I want the servants and tenants to be taken care of. And I want to have some say in the management of the estate. I don’t want to give that up.” She needed to feel useful. She needed to feel like her life had purpose.

“Fine,” Priss said. “What are you willing to do in order to achieve those things?”

“Are you asking whether I’d be willing to marry the duke?”

“If necessary,” Priss said.

Daisy’s lips firmed. Her shoulders straightened and her chin came up. “I’d do anything to protect Severn Manor. Even marry a barbarian.”

“What’s that about a barbarian?”

Daisy whirled and found herself facing the Earl of Rotherham. “Nothing of consequence,” she said.

He bowed. “Welcome to Rockland Park, Your Grace.”

“I wish you would dispense with such formality, Charles,” Daisy said with asperity. “I consider you my friend. If Priss is willing to accede to my wishes, I don’t see why you won’t.”

“Very well,” he said with a grin. “I’ll just ignore you and say hello to my wife.”

Gray streaked the earl’s black hair at the temples, but even though Charles Warenne was in his early forties, he had the look and build of a younger man. When his dark-brown eyes lit on his much younger wife, they were filled with love.

Daisy was happy that Tony’s friend should have found so much joy in his second marriage. Not that the earl’s first marriage hadn’t been a love match as well, but Charles had lost his wife to childbirth and had been alone for fifteen years before he found Priss.

Priss reached out a hand, and the earl twined his own with hers. Daisy should have felt embarrassed by the demonstration of so much affection between man and wife in public, but she had learned, over the two years since Priss had come into the earl’s household, to accept such gestures as natural behavior between them.

Daisy felt a constriction in her chest and realized she wanted that kind of love for herself. There was little chance of that now. Not if she married the duke. And it began to seem more and more likely that she would. If she could just figure out a way to have him propose.

“Has the duke arrived?” Charles asked Daisy.

“Yes, he has.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing him.”

“Perhaps that can be arranged,” Daisy said.
“Would you and Priss be able to join us for dinner later in the week?”

“Name the day,” Charles said, “and we’ll be there.”

The earl’s dark brows rose speculatively when his daughter entered the drawing room with a young man close at her heels.

“There’s someone else you should meet,” Daisy said. “May I present Mr. Colin Calloway, the duke’s son. This is the countess’s husband, the Earl of Rotherham.”

Colin bowed. “How do I address you, sir?” he asked with a hesitant smile.

The earl ignored Colin’s inquiry. “Your name is Calloway? How is it you’re the duke’s son?”

“My father wasn’t married to my mother.”

The earl frowned as he looked from Colin to his fetchingly pretty daughter and back. “Have you two been out walking together?” he asked his daughter.

“Yes, Papa,” Roanna said. “I’ve been showing Mr. Calloway the gardens.”

Charles turned a stern eye on his countess. “And you allowed this?”

“But whyever not?” Priss said.

“I should think that would be perfectly clear,” the earl replied, eyeing Colin once more.

“It isn’t clear to me, sir,” Colin said, his color high.