Chapter Twenty

I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.

—JANE AUSTEN, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

“Daisy, love, the way that old bitch from the brothel talked to you that time . . . it’s no wonder you don’t want to believe me. All your life she was runnin’ you down, dragging you down, tellin’ you you were rubbish, a joke, tryin’ to make you less than you are. God, darlin’, how you grew up with that and came out the other end so strong and sweet and decent—”

She made a small muffled sound of denial.

“Yes, you are. You’re like . . .” He searched his mind for a way to make her understand. “You’re like Damascus steel.”

“Steel?” She pulled a doubtful face.

“Damascus steel is famous—the best quality steel ever. It’s well-hammered in the making, tempered by fire and quenched in dragon’s blood—that’s you, growing up tough. Swords made of Damascus steel are the finest in the world.”

She squinted up at him, as if wondering whether he was serious. “Gawd, Flynn. I reckon I know who the dragon was but really . . . You reckon I’m like one of them swords?”

“You are,” he assured her. “Strong, beautiful, flexible, and wonderfully sharp. And greatly prized.”

She snorted. “And here I was, thinking I was the sheath and you was the sword.” Her hand moved to caress his “sword” and he laughed.

They made love again. But when it was over and they lay quietly, listening to the dripping of the rain in the pipes and the rattle of the carts over the cobbles, he knew he hadn’t yet made her understand. That she’d turned it into a joke because it made her uncomfortable to think that she was good and fine and worthy of love.

“I can see I’m goin’ to have to explain it, where I got that ‘finest lady’ notion from—or rather, where I think I got it from, for God only knows how some ideas get lodged in our brain.”

He tucked her against him. “I told you about me mam and da’, back in Ireland, and how it all ended.”

She nodded.

“For years I tried not to think about them, tried not to remember. It was too painful.” She slid her arms around him and hugged him, half draped across his chest, warm and soft. She didn’t yet trust that he truly loved and wanted her, but she was a loving, generous little soul, his Daisy.

“Since I’ve been in London, I’ve been remembering more and more. Would you believe it was a blue teapot that started me thinkin’.” He told her about the tea setting he’d seen in the shop window and how it had sparked a memory and how it had helped unravel all of his thinking about Lady Elizabeth.

“See, the first time I saw her, she was pourin’ out tea for her guests, and somehow, it made me think she was the one.”

She gave him an odd look. “You were goin’ to marry her because of a teapot?”

He laughed. “Not exactly. It was what the teapot symbolized—and I didn’t even know it meself, at the time. Until a certain girl’s kiss brought me to me senses.”

She kissed his chest and rubbed her cheek against him.

“Later I realized there was more to it than just that—things I’d forgotten, ideas that got somehow twisted up in me mind.”

He told her how he remembered his father, during the good times, before the accident, saying he’d married the finest young lady in three counties. “And Mam would laugh and blush, and say, ‘Only three counties, is it?’ And Da would pull her onto his lap and say, ‘The whole country, lass—I married the finest lass in all of Ireland.’ And he’d kiss her.

“I was just a boy, but they said it often enough that I remember. But after the accident Da never pulled Mam onto his lap like that again.”

There was a short silence. “Somehow, I tucked that memory away. Forgot it, but held onto it in some part of me. And over time, the memory hardened and changed, until there I was, a brash eedjit, tellin’ everyone I was going to marry the finest young lady in London—and believin’ it. And thinking that meant an earl’s daughter, some kind of symbol of what I’d achieved with me life.”

He looked at Daisy. “When instead, what I really wanted, deep down, was a woman like me Da had, a loving, warm-hearted woman, to share me bed and me life, and to raise a family with.”

Her eyes were liquid with unshed tears.

“I didn’t realize the right woman was there, right under me nose, until I’d kissed you, Daisy. And once I had . . . well . . .” He gave a rueful grin. “Served me right that I’d found the girl for me, but she didn’t want me at all—only to use as her occasional plaything. It did terrible things to me self-esteem, so it did. But I like a challenge.”

“You were never a plaything,” she mumbled, embarrassed.

“You had all you ever needed, you said—your family, your shop, food in your belly and a man in your bed.”

“I didn’t mean any man, I meant you.”

“And you never wanted children at all.”

There was a short silence. “I know. It wasn’t until I fell pregnant that I even thought about it. And when I did I was scared to bits. I still am. I don’t know nothing about babies.” She cupped her hand protectively over her belly. “But I realized I wanted her. Loved her.”

Flynn covered her hand with his. “Her?”

She nodded. “And I want her to have all the things I never had—a mum, a dad, a home. I might never have wanted it, Flynn, but I’m going to be the best mother and wife I can be.”

“I know, love. You never do anything half-hearted, do you?”

“What’s the point of being half-hearted? If you want something, you have to go for it.”

“My feelings exactly.” Flynn dropped a kiss on her head. “So you think it’s a girl?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Could be a boy.”

She started at him and a faintly panicked look came into her eyes. “It can’t be a boy. I don’t know nuffin’ about boys.”

He smiled. “I do. There’s two of us now, don’t forget.”

She stared at him frowning, and shook her head. “No, she’s a girl. I know she is. With black curls and big blue eyes.”

“Sounds grand to me.”

“You won’t mind if she’s not a boy? An heir?”

He shook his head. “Whoever God sends us will be fine by me. I just want you and a family—you’re what matters most.”

Her eyes filled again. “I will learn to be a better—”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake, woman, will you not understand? I don’t want you to learn anything! I want you, Daisy Chance, just exactly as you are—spiky, difficult, stubborn as hell, swearing, punching, loving—just exactly the way you are.”

He glared down at her, frustrated by her persistent misunderstanding of what he wanted. “You’re the woman I fell in love with. Why the hell would I then want you to become something different?”

She frowned up at him, puzzled. “I thought you were ambitious?”

“I am.”

“Then you’ll need a wife who’s ambitious as well.”

“So? You are ambitious.”

“Well, I was for me shop, yes. But I don’t have that any more, remember?”

He grimaced and gave her a cautious look. “Actually, no. I do.”

She jerked her head back and stared at him. “You do? How? Did you find out—”

He grimaced, knowing she wasn’t going to like what he said. But he had to say it. “I’m your silent partner, Daisy.”

She blinked, then shook her head. “What are you talkin’ about, Flynn? Louisa—”

“Is the widow of an old friend of mine.”

She reared back, glaring at him, her eyes chips of anger. “She’s what?”

He held up his hands in a peaceable gesture. “Now don’t get cross with me, darlin—you were bein’ so stubborn about taking me on as a partner, and when I bumped into Louisa, quite by accident, she told me she was at a loose end and finding society life a bit dull, after the life she and her husband led in the Far East. So I filled her in and gave her the money to invest in your business.”

There was a long silence. She wasn’t happy about it, he could see. He braced himself for a thump. It didn’t come.

Her eyes still glittered with anger, but also betrayal. She lifted her chin. “You never did trust me to be able to do it on me own, did you?”

He sat up and grabbed her by the arms. “It wasn’t that at all, darlin’. It was because you were wearin’ yourself out, workin’ all hours of the day and night, givin’ yourself no fun at all and turning yourself into a pale wee shred of the girl I loved.” He slid his hands up to cup her face gently. “I couldn’t bear to see you like that, Daisy-girl, not when the solution was so simple.”

She swallowed and pushed his hands away. “You lied to me, Flynn.” She tried to hide the hurt in her voice, but it was fathoms deep.

He nodded. “I know. And I apologize. But I’m not sorry I did. I’d do the same again.”

She frowned and opened her mouth to say something, but he jumped in first. “I had to lie to you—it was the only way. Because you couldn’t bring yourself to trust me.”

There was a short silence and he added, “I know I hurt your feelings, darlin’, but think about where you’d be now, if I hadn’t lied to you.”

She thought about it. She wouldn’t have her lovely shop, she wouldn’t have had that splendid opening, and half of London flocking to buy her things. She wouldn’t have a bunch of girls working for her and making their own lives better, and she wouldn’t have a friend like Louisa.

Most of all she wouldn’t have had those glorious, beautiful private times with Flynn here in their own little attic love nest. She probably wouldn’t have Flynn at all. Or the baby.

And at that thought her anger trickled away. “I was stubborn, wasn’t I?”

“Just a little bit reluctant to mix business with friendship, I reckon—which isn’t such a bad thing. And worried that I’d tramp all over your dream enterprise with me big clumsy feet, tellin’ you what to do and sticking me nose in where it wasn’t wanted.”

She sighed. “That was partly it. But mostly it was because until you, there’d never been a man I could trust. I’m sorry, Flynn, I should have known better.”

“Ah, don’t be sorry, darlin’. It helped me to understand exactly why you were the perfect wife for me.”

She frowned in puzzlement. “How?”

“You and me, darlin’, are two halves of a whole. We’re both ambitious, we neither of us care much for appearances—”

“Oy, I do care a lot about—”

“Not how-you-look appearances, but what-other-people-think-of-us appearances. If you cared more, you would have tried harder in those lady lessons of Lady Bea’s.”

She acknowledged that with a rueful nod.

“And if I’d married someone like Lady Elizabeth, I’d never be able to talk about the things that interest me—my latest ventures or new business possibilities—over the breakfast or dinner table.”

“Vulgar,” she said in an imitation of Lady Bea.

“That’s right, or else she’d be endlessly polite—tolerating me vulgar ways, whereas you and I, we can talk about this stuff for hours.” He pulled her closer. “Even when we’re curled up in bed.”

“Well, business is interesting.”

“So it is. To both of us. And if you think I’m talkin’ rubbish, you’ll tell me so, to my face, instead of hiding behind polite phrases, believing that what’s on the surface is all that counts. Marrying some lord’s daughter would have been the stupidest thing I could do. I’d be an outsider in me own house, and worse, I’d be bored. With you I’m never bored. We’ll love and argue and love again.”

He kissed her. She was starting to believe him now.

“So who will we get to run the shop?” she said after a while.

He gave her an odd look. “You, of course.”

“What?” Daisy flashed him a look of complete surprise.

“You don’t think I’m going to keep it meself, do you? What would I do with a ladies’ dress shop? I’ll sign it over to you now, if you like. Do you have a pen and paper?” He looked around for something to write on.

Daisy struggled to take it in. All these years she’d been worried about losing her business to some man—and she had!—and now he was handing it back to her like it was . . . like a handkerchief she’d misplaced.

“Don’t worry, it can wait until after the wedding.”

“But I thought—”

“I trust you, Flynn.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “But I can’t keep workin’ at the shop. I’ll be married, remember? Married ladies don’t go out to work.”

He raised his brows at her. “Do you want to give up the business you’ve worked so hard to achieve, then?”

“No, of course not, but I thought—”

“I wouldn’t take your dream away from you, darlin’. If you want to continue running your shop, I don’t see why you can’t. We’ve got the money to hire all the help we need with the baby. As for what anyone else thinks, it’s between you and me and nobody else.”

He pulled her tight for a long warm hug. “Listen—can you hear that?”

She listened. “I don’t hear nothin’”

“Yes, you do—the sound of London out there, still busy and tradin’ and cheatin’ and sellin’ and buying, even though it’s dark. It never sleeps, this city.

“The world is changing, darlin’ and we’re movin’ right along with it. But the toffs—most of them—aren’t. They know things are changing, but they’re not looking out and learning; they’re resisting, closin’ ranks, getting more and more exclusive, tryin’ to keep people like you and me out.

“What they don’t understand is, it’s not about the past anymore, who your ancestors were, who knows the right fork to hold or any of that. It’s not about London, or even England or the United Kingdom—it’s about the world. And you and me, Daisy, we’re citizens of the world. I’ve got a worldwide trading business and—”

“I’ve never been out of London except to visit me sisters’ country homes.”

“I’ll take you to Venice on our honeymoon.”

She shook her head. “No, the place is sinking, I heard. Damaris and Freddy were there just a few months ago.”

He laughed.

She said, “But I see what you’re gettin’ at. The toffs still have a lot of influence, though.”

“Yeah and we have plenty of friends. We don’t need to play at being toffs—we’ll just be ourselves, and know that the friends we have are real ones. And make sure this little one”—he patted her belly—“has the opportunities we never had, but doesn’t fancy herself better than other people, just because she was born in a comfortable home.”

She turned to him then. “I’ve been thinkin’ about that—where we’re going to live.”

“Wherever you like.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Wait until I’ve told you my idea—you might not like it.” She explained.

He laughed. “Sounds like a grand plan to me, but it’s not up to me, is it?”

*   *   *

“This looks ominous,” Lady Beatrice observed as Daisy and Flynn were ushered into the drawing room by Featherby. “A deputation, is it?”

Daisy swallowed. “We got something to ask you, and before we tell you what it is, I want you to know that it was my idea, not Flynn’s—in case you want to know who to blame.”

“I see. And are you going to keep standing there, looming over me, with a face that might as well be heading for the guillotine, or will you sit, like civilized people?”

They sat side by side on the sofa facing her. “It’s like this—” Daisy began.

“Show me your hands, gel,” the old lady rapped.

Daisy and Flynn exchanged bemused glances, then Daisy extended her hands.

Lady Beatrice gave them a quick glance, snorted, then aimed her lorgnette at Flynn. “How long have you been betrothed? Notices in the papers, the banns being called and the gel still wears no betrothal ring?”

Flynn blinked. He looked at Daisy. “I’m sorry,” he said, “it slipped my mind. I will of course—”

“It didn’t slip his mind, he hasn’t had a chance,” Daisy said. “I wouldn’t see him or speak to him before this.”

The lorgnette raked over them, pausing a long moment at where Daisy was holding Flynn’s hand under cover of her skirts. “But you are seeing and speaking now?”

“Yes, m’lady.” Flynn grinned and put his arm around Daisy, bold and blatant as could be. Daisy tried not to smile but her grin broke out too.

The old lady sniffed and tried to look severe. “About time you sorted things out. Now, you will need a ring.”

“Yes ma’am and I’ll—”

“Featherby?”

“Milady.” Featherby appeared as if from nowhere, produced a small box from his pocket and with a bow, handed it to the old lady.

Beside Flynn, Daisy gasped.

Lady Beatrice paused, turning the box between gnarled old fingers. “This might not suit, of course. You might prefer something flashier, more modern.”

Daisy didn’t say a word. Flynn glanced at her. She was pale and holding her breath. “Whatever Daisy wants.”

The old lady nodded. “I don’t know how much of our story you know, Mr. Flynn. She’s very loyal, our gel here, and not one to gossip, but when we first met, I was in a dire situation. Without going into details, I was waiting for death, alone and hopeless—until my dearest gels came into my life.

“I’d been robbed of all my valuables, or so I’d thought. Turns out they were paste, the lot of them, all except my rings, which I never took off, so my late husband was unable to get his hands on them. I thought they’d been stolen, but when we moved here, and dear Featherby and William dismantled my bed, they found them in a secret hollow in the bedpost that I’d had made a lifetime ago. I must have hidden my rings there and forgotten all about them. I’d been ill, you see.”

She sighed reminiscently. “Four rings, four stones. I gave Abby the emerald, Damaris the sapphire, Jane the ruby and now I would very much like my dearest Daisy to have the diamond.” She held out the box to Daisy.

She didn’t move.

Flynn glanced down at her and saw she was blinking back tears.

“All my girls are precious to me, but this gel—as I hope you appreciate, Mr. Flynn—is as rare and precious and full of light as any diamond.”

Flynn rose and took the little box from her. “Oh I appreciate it, milady. It’s her that doesn’t understand how precious she is, but I aim to change that.”

“Good lad.”

He returned, but instead of sitting, he knelt on one knee, opened the box, took out a gold ring containing the most superb diamond he’d ever seen, and said, “Daisy Chance, will you wear this diamond ring, not only as a betrothal ring and a pledge of my love, but also as a reminder of Lady Beatrice, your sisters, and all who love you?”

Her face crumpled, but she held out her hand, which was shaking like a leaf. He slipped the ring on, and it fit perfectly.

“Beautiful, dear boy, just beautiful,” Lady Beatrice said, mopping her eyes with a wisp of lace. Behind her Featherby turned away to discreetly blow his nose, and out in the hall they could hear William blowing his nose in a bugle trumpet of emotion.

Tears streaming down her face, Daisy rose, hugged Flynn and hurried forward to hug and kiss Lady Beatrice. And then she hugged Featherby as well. And then turned to the doorway from which a smattering of applause came, growing louder as Lady Beatrice’s staff crowded through the doorway to witness Daisy’s moment and congratulate her. More than any of the other girls, she’d been one of their own.

“Champagne, Featherby,” Lady Beatrice croaked when the fuss began to subside.

“At once, milady.” He gestured and the crowd melted away.

Lady Beatrice blew her nose again. “Dear me, emotions, always so exhausting. The house is going to be dreadfully quiet without you, my dear.”

Daisy reached for Flynn’s hand. “That’s what we come to talk to you about.”

The old lady waved her crumpled shred of lace. “Go ahead, talk then.”

“You know I never planned to get married,” Daisy began, and hurried on before anyone could interrupt, “I always thought I’d live here with you for the rest of me life.”

“You mean the rest of my life,” the old lady said sardonically.

“My life,” Daisy repeated obediently, then saw what the old lady was getting at. “Oh, yeah, I see what you mean—your life. I wasn’t going to say that—I was bein’ tactful. But since you’ve said it, yeah, I planned to keep you company for as long as you wanted and needed me.”

“Very worthy of you, my dear, but I don’t in the least begrudge you your happiness.”

“Good, neither do I. But I thought . . . I wondered . . .”

“What Daisy is trying to say,” Flynn interjected, “is that she’d very much like to go on living here, with you. We both would.”

“We’d take the second floor,” Daisy said. “If you didn’t mind, that is.”

The old lady sat very still. “With me? You want to live here, with me?”

“As a married couple, yes,” Flynn said.

“You would do that?” she asked, clearly moved. “Live with an old lady?”

He grinned. “Not any old lady. Just an ageless, elegant, canny wee elf.”

Daisy gave him an odd look. “She ain’t an elf, stupid.” She turned back to Lady Beatrice. “If you don’t like the idea, of course, we won’t. Flynn says he’ll buy us the closest house available so I can pop in often and you won’t have to miss me at all.”

“Don’t like the idea?” the old lady echoed.

“Because of the baby,” Daisy said. “They make a lot of noise, I’m told.”

“Live with a baby?” The old lady’s face lit up. She turned to the doorway. “Did you hear that, Featherby, this house is going to have a baby in it, at long last.” She blinked away tears and almost whispered, “All my life, I’ve wanted a baby.”

Featherby beamed. “A baby?” He turned to William who was carrying in champagne and glasses. “We’re going to have a baby, William. Living here, with us.”

William’s big ugly boxer’s face split in a grin. “Congratulations, Miss Daisy. That’ll make this house feel like a proper family home then, won’t it?”

They drank toasts then—all five of them, including Featherby and William, who had been with them since the beginning. They drank to Daisy and Flynn, to the success of Daisy’s shop, to the coming baby, and to Lady Beatrice, who, as Daisy pointed out, was going to become a great-aunt.

“A great-aunt? Nonsense!” the old lady declared. “I shall be a splendid aunt!”

Daisy laughed. “You are already!”

*   *   *

After Featherby and William had left, the old lady grew serious. “Now that you’re getting married, I’m going to change my will,” she told them. “I had planned to leave this house to Daisy.”

“To me?”

“A woman should always have a home of her own. But between you and Mr. Flynn, I’m not worried about your future security—Max will ensure the marriage settlements provide handsomely for you.”

“He won’t need to,” Flynn growled.

“I know, dear boy, but he likes doing that sort of thing and a nephew should be useful. But since Daisy’s future is settled I’m going to write up a new will; when I die I intend to leave this house to Featherby and William.”

Flynn frowned. They were good servants, but . . .

Daisy took his hand and started to explain but the old lady cut her off. “Featherby and William have been as much a part of this grand adventure as my dear gels. I shudder to think where we all might still be had they not come with you that first fateful day. And since then, Featherby has not only cared for me, he’s made me the envy of the ton—did you know, Flynn, dear boy, half the aristocracy have been trying to steal Featherby from me, and he didn’t so much as hint.”

She gave a brisk nod of satisfaction. “Those two gentlemen tended me when I was at the lowest point of my life and never once turned a hair at what they were asked to do. They looked after me and my gels not simply as loyal servants, but almost as . . . family. And when I die—which I trust will be many years in the future—they will be elderly and in need of security. So as well as a pension, I will give them this house. You won’t mind, will you, Daisy? The other gels all have their own homes already, but you—”

“Have a home here with you—the only home I’ve ever had—and I’ll always have a home with Flynn and our baby, wherever we live. And I love this idea, Lady Bea. I never had a father, but Featherby and William have been like fathers to me—to all of us—and of course the other girls and I would always look after them, but it’s so much better this way, something they’ve earned the right to, and not charity.”

She hugged the old lady. “Do you know how much I love you? How much we all love you? And I’m so happy that you’ll be here for my baby to grow up with. You can teach her all the things you’ve taught me—and no, I don’t mean grammar and deportment, though I s’pose the poor little thing will have to learn that too.”

The old lady sniffed. “Don’t know as I’ve taught you very much at all.”

“Oh, but you have—more than you know.” Daisy’s smile was blinding, and it took in Flynn as well as the old lady. “You’ll teach her how to be a true lady—generous and kind and loyal and loving, in the heart, where it truly matters.”

“Just like her mother,” Flynn said softly. “The finest lady in London.”

“Drat!” the old lady grumbled. “Got something in my eye again. Where’s a wretched handkerchief when you need one?” Flynn handed her his.