Rules for Reforming a Rake(110)
He sighed and patted her shoulder once again. “I know it’s taking a while, but there’s no reason to fear. The signs still point to a healthy birth. The babe’s a bit reluctant to leave the comfort of his mother’s womb, that’s all.”
She nodded.
“Why don’t you girls try to get some rest as well.”
Daisy was exhausted, but she was too distressed to sleep. No doubt her sisters were just as overset. “We couldn’t.”
“Then have Mrs. MacTavish fix you the light repast you ought to have had hours ago. Keep up your strength, or you’ll be of no use to Mrs. Peebles or to me.”
“I am a little hungry,” she admitted “The twins must be, too.”
Since the household had quieted once more, she decided not to bother the staff. Most had returned to their beds by now and she knew her way about a kitchen well enough to manage on her own.
As she stepped into the hall and started downstairs, she saw Billings at the foot of the stairs, looking perplexed.
She cast him an assuring smile. “Why are you still awake, Billings? You mustn’t worry. His lordship and her ladyship will recover.”
“I have faith they will, what with you and your uncle close at hand. But begging your pardon, Miss Daisy, there’s someone here to see his lordship, claims to bring news of vital importance. Waiting until morning may be too late, this person insists.”
Daisy wasn’t certain what to do. Graelem was in no condition to see anyone right now, but what if the vital news concerned Gabriel? “I’ll see the gentleman. Show him into the library.”
Billings shook his head, now appearing quite distressed. “The visitor isn’t a gentleman.”
“A lady?” She frowned. “At this late hour? Very well, show her in.”
“Can’t very well call her a lady either. She isn’t the sort one would allow into one’s home. I’ll send her away. I shouldn’t have troubled you, but she mentioned Lord Gabriel—”
Daisy gasped. “Bring her into the library at once.”
“But—”
“Do as I say, Billings.”
Daisy hurried to the library and lit the oil lamp perched atop Graelem’s desk. She decided against ordering the servants to light the fire, for she doubted the visitor would stay long. Now anxious, she busied herself by clearing off a space on the desk and fumbling in the drawers for quill pen and ink. She wasn’t certain why she’d thought to pull out paper stock and writing implements, only that they might be useful. In any event, she was on edge and needed to do something to keep her hands from trembling.
Laurel’s life and that of her baby were in danger. Graelem was injured and in a laudanum-induced stupor. Uncle George was exhausted and probably snatching a desperate hour of sleep. She was exhausted, hungry, and about to face a stranger delivering bad news. Very bad news.
Daisy uttered a silent prayer that Gabriel was unharmed, but she feared it wasn’t so. Was he hurt? Captured? Dead? He’d only been gone a day or so. Too soon to have engaged the French, unless Napoleon’s agents had followed him and Edgeware, attacking them on a quiet stretch of road.
A gentle knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. “Come in.”
Billings entered, followed by the most beautiful woman Daisy had ever beheld. She was tall and slender, and had lush red hair and smoky, cat-like eyes. Even in the harsh lamp light, she appeared to have perfect skin and a peach complexion.
“Lady Laurel?” the woman asked once Graelem’s butler had closed the door behind him to lend her some privacy.
“I’m her sister, Daisy Farthingale. Er... um...” I’m Lady Dayne now. Oh, well. It seemed irrelevant at the moment. “And you are?”
“Ah, I see,” she said with a surprisingly wistful laugh. “My name is Desiree St. Claire. I’m a friend of Lord Gabriel Dayne.”
“A friend of Gabriel’s?” Daisy gripped the corner of the desk tightly. She recognized the name and knew Desiree was more than a friend. She was Gabriel’s mistress. Don’t cry! Don’t be a ninny and cry!
She had been told such women were brazen, tawdry. But this beauty was graceful and carried herself with regal bearing. She dressed in the latest fashion, her gown a shimmering, sapphire blue made of the finest silk, and the matching fur-lined cloak was of the finest quality. Gabriel had spared no expense on his amour, she realized with dismay. “You have news concerning him?”
Desiree nodded. “I do,” she said in a refined French accent, “but I think it best that I speak to Lord Graelem.”
“What possible interest could his lordship have... er, in any way relevant to your position with his... er, cousin?” she finished lamely, not sure why she hadn’t just come out and told Desiree that she was Gabriel’s wife. In truth, it hurt that this woman knew Gabriel better than she did. It quietly tore her heart to pieces that Gabriel liked this woman better than he liked her.