Page 20 of If a Lady Lingers

He smiled to himself. Plans and sketches of all kinds covered her drafting table. Grand exterior façades to detailed ceiling plasterworks, drawings of carved newel posts made to look like Grecian caryatids carrying oil jars on their heads and others made to look like elegantly bending flowers, beautiful fanlights and sidelights…She was good with overall house plans, he wouldn’t begrudge her that. But her true talent lay in the interiors. All of the king’s grand houses in London and Brighton paled in comparison to the simple, uncluttered elegance and beauty of Daisy’s designs.

He took one of the sketches and held it up to the window.Brilliant.

He laid it aside, and his boot brushed against something on the floor. He looked down—a tube of heavy, rolled paper tied with a piece of purple ribbon.What on earth…?With a perplexed frown, he untied the ribbon and unrolled the sheets of paper.

He bit his cheek to keep from cheering. They were Daisy’s plans for her dream house, with a letter of application for the contest. She was entering! It was all wrapped up and ready to be delivered to St James’s Palace for submission. Except…

He noticed the name scrawled across the bottom right corner. Not hers. Elias’s.

He mumbled, “What are you planning?”

He unfolded the letter. In it, Daisy once more gave credit to her father for creating work she’d done herself. He grimaced. Elias Daring was fraudulently entering the contest that should have been Daisy’s to win.

“Not if I can help it.” He reached for the eraser sitting on her desk and briskly rubbed it over the plans to remove Elias’s name. He picked up her drafting pencil and signed Daisy’s name for her. Then he took down the quill and ink set from the nearby bookshelves and quickly scratched out a new letter in which he made certain that Daisy took ownership for her wonderful designs and credit for the entry. He finished the letter, then put it inside the plans and carefully rolled them up again.

Humming happily to himself as he left the studio, he took the entry with him to submit it for her. In its place he left the flowers.

4

Month Four

Daisy stopped at the bottom of the steps and stared up at the old house that had been turned into the Gatewell School for Orphans of the Sea. Her nervous heart jumped into her throat.

She’d been putting off this visit to the school for as long as possible. Heavens…children. Oh, she wasn’t ready for this!

“Don’t be nervous,” Whitby urged as he tugged at her hand to cajole her inside with him. “They’re going to love you.”

She doubted that. “I’m not good with children.” Ha! That was the understatement of the year. She was absolutely terrible with them, treating them like short adults.

“Yes, you are.” He slid her a sideways grin. “You’re good with me, and I’m the biggest kid I know.”

She heaved out an exaggerated sigh. “That is true.”

He nudged her with his elbow. “They’re wonderful children who crave attention—”

“Also like you.”

He ignored that and leaned over to whisper into her ear, “And they’ll likeyoua great deal.”

This time, she whispered with a smile through her nervousness, “Also like you?”

He placed a quick kiss to her cheek. Then he put his hand at the small of her back to start her up the stairs before she could stop again.

Whitby had insisted that they visit the school today. He wanted her to see the school, meet the staff, and learn of all the support they offered those children connected to the docks who had lost their fathers. He’d wanted it to be nothing more than a social visit, but Daisy had insisted on bringing her notebook. She wanted to talk with the children, to find out what they wanted in a home and why the project was so important to them.

She also wanted the chance to see Whitby interact with the children. He gave so much of his money and time to them, so much of himself. They meant a great deal to him, andhewas coming to mean a great deal to her.

But then he’d gone and thrown her for a complete loop by asking her father for permission to formally court her. Papa thankfully left the decision completely up to her. And she…well, she’d turned cowardly. She liked Whitby, a great deal, but she had no idea if she wanted more. If she were ready for more with anyone, let alone someone so vivacious. After all, at twenty-five, she’d never had a season the way society misses did, knew nothing of flirtations between men and women, and never been seriously courted before by anyone. What if she made a giant mess of it all?

So she’d agreed to spend time with him but not yet publicly reveal their courtship. After all, she had no idea what kind of future she wanted with him—if any. Friendship only? A meeting of minds? Perhaps—dare she consider it—romance? Going slowly proved the only option.Veryslowly. Whitby had agreed, although he wasn’t able to hide the disappointment that had darkened his face, but with the condition that she give him a firm answer by the time the house was finished—to let him publicly pursue her or break off.

She had no idea what her answer would be.

“Whitby’s here!” The shout went up as soon as they stepped into the house. It echoed through the floors and rooms, passed along from one child’s lips to the next in a hue and cry that surprised the daylights out of her.

She slid him a bewildered look. “Do they always do this when you arrive?”

“Usually.” Used to their boisterous greetings, he shrugged and admitted, “Because usually I bring them treats.”