Page 52 of A Temporary Bride for the Duke

Amina was nodding frantically, practically jumping up and down. “Yes, they’re from Bond Street.”

Daisy’s heart sank. “Who…?”

“I don’t know, my lady. If you’d follow me, I can show you,” Amina said with a curtsy, and Daisy followed her down the corridor and to the foyer.

Daisy went down to her knees as she touched the boxes in wonder. She opened the first to see bolts of cloth in silk and muslin in various shades of green. She gasped, recognizing both as the ones she’d admired in the draper’s shop.

“But… how? Did my father order these?”

Amina snorted derisively. Then, she seemed to realize how her reaction could be misconstrued, and she said softly, “I doubt that very much, my lady.”

Daisy opened the second box and was struck speechless. It was the emerald-green silk with gold accents. Someone had made a gown of it and sent it to her.

“Is there a note perhaps, my lady?” Amina asked, hovering excitedly behind her.

“Good thinking,” Daisy said, searching beneath and between the fabrics in the first box for a receipt of goods or a note.

“The cover!” Amina muttered, pointing at it, and Daisy reached for it and turned it.

For sure, there was a label, indicating that the goods had come from Clark & Debenham’s, and the receiving address was Claymore House, yet a small piece of paper was sticking out of the laths of wood that made the lid. Daisy pulled it out and saw that it was a receipt indicating that the invoice was paid in full by Edmund Foster, Duke of Blackvale.

Daisy gawped at it, completely nonplused by this turn of events.

“Oh, my lady, your betrothed bought them for you. How romantic!” She clapped her hands as she leaned down to read the receipt over Daisy’s shoulder.

Daisy gave a deep sigh, her stomach swooping in reaction. She did not know why the Duke would do this, or even how he knew she was enamored by these particular fabrics. And she could not account for how the modiste knew her measurements. It had been an age since she’d purchased a new frock. It was all so confusing.

“I suppose I should send a note of thanks,” she murmured.

“Of course you should!”

Maybe he saw the quality of my gowns, decided I needed something better, and then happenedto visit the same draper’s we did. And maybe they advised him to get these particular fabrics…

It seemed terribly coincidental to her, but she could not think of any other reason why the Duke would do such a thing.

“I’ll fetch you a paper and pen, my lady,” Amina said. “Then, after you write the note, you must promise to try on that gown. It is so lovely.”

“Indeed,” Daisy agreed. “I confess that I am curious to see if it will fit.”

“Eh!” Amina gave a soft squeal of delight before curtsying briefly, then dashing from the room.

Daisy sighed, picking up the boxes and making her way to her chambers.

She already had some idea of the gowns she could make with the other fabrics. Amina was a former seamstress and was responsible for the fact that Daisy had any decent gowns to wear at all. The problem was that she had little time to spare with a household that employed so few staff members.

Not a full minute later, Amina was back. She followed Daisy up the stairs, clutching a quill, a bottle of ink, and a piece of paper from the writing room.

Daisy sat down at her armoire and wrote a note to the Duke. It was difficult to get the tone right. She did not want to sound ungrateful, but she also did not want to gush and make the Duke uncomfortable. Their arrangement served only one purpose after all; it was far from sentimental.

A dignified note, which comes across as sincere but not high-strung. Yes, that’s the tone I want.

She bent over the paper and began to write.

Chapter Thirteen

Edmund was looking forward to seeing Daisy. He had not had any communication with her since the very muted note she had sent after he’d gifted her the fabrics and gown. He could not tell whether she was pleased about the gift or annoyed.

It flustered him that he dwelt on her reaction so much.