Page 33 of If a Lady Lingers

“Unfortunately, His Majesty has been detained,” Nash announced.

Disappointment fell heavily over the room.

“He plans to arrive later, and so has asked that the ceremony proceed in his absence.”

Despite hushed whispers, no one in the reception room was surprised. Most likely, the king had either fallen down drunk in the state apartments or into his current mistress’s bed. In either case, he was likely so caught up in a fit of depression or rage or rampant gout as to be unpresentable for the rest of the evening. The ceremony—like Parliament and the British empire—would go blithely on without him.

Nash accepted the gold foil and red ribbon-wrapped letter handed to him by one of His Majesty’s secretaries, opened it, and smiled in satisfaction. “The winner of the Regent Park Villa Competition is…Elias Daring!”

The floor fell out from beneath her, and Daisy stared, stunned and blinking and numb with wonderful shock. She’d won… Her househad won!It was all a wonderful dream that swirled around her with the rousing thunder of applause, shouted kudos, and nods of congratulations that the judges gave each other for selecting the winner, convincing themselves and all who were watching that they’d made the correct decision.

But the swirling dream faded into a nightmare as her heart tore. She didn’t know whether to cry in happiness or succumb to desolate sobs.

She’d won. She’d proven that she was just as good as the other architects, and her dream home would finally be built, just as it deserved. But none of the appreciation and admiration were for her, and never would be.

“Go on,” she choked out and touched Papa’s arm, forcing a smile for him through tears that no one would suspect were gathering in pain.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he stared down at her with a challenging gleam in his eyes. She knew what he was thinking—he was daring her to admit the truth even now in front of everyone, to step forward to the dais and claim her prize.

But she didn’t dare.

“Go on,” she repeated and feared that her face might break from the strength it took to keep her smile bright and in place. “They’re waiting for you.”

“They’re waiting foryou.” He took her hand and led her forward with him. When they reached the dais, she stopped and refused to take another step. “Daisy, come with me.”

“No,” she rasped out and pulled her hand out of his.

Reluctantly, he moved away from her to collect the prize and the committee’s congratulations. As he stepped onto the dais, the other entries had been removed by footmen back to the sides of the room, leaving hers standing by itself at the front of the room.

She watched with tear-blurred eyes as he accepted the gold-foil letter with His Majesty’s seal on it. He shook all the judges’ hands and accepted a second envelope containing the prize money and the commission to secure the plans for building. More applause echoed through the grand room, more cheers for her father.

But he held up his hand to gain their attention and silence them. He fixed his gaze on Daisy as she stood in front of him. “I cannot take credit for this.”

The applause died away, replaced by bewildered whispers.

No,she mouthed. Suddenly, she wanted to give this night to her father. She wanted him to be recognized for a lifetime of hard work and brilliance. He deserved this moment for all the houses and buildings he’d created during his career.You deserve this, she silently told him, even though she knew he might not be able to read her lips to discern what she was telling him.You—the great Elias Daring, for all you’ve done, for all you’ve taught me…

But his heart understood every silent word.

He shook his head. “Your kindness is appreciated,” he told the guests in a rough voice grated by emotion, although his eyes never left Daisy. “Greatly so. But I cannot claim all of it.”

Her heart jumped into her throat.

“My daughter Daisy deserves more credit than I do.” He smiled at her with love and pride. “For taking over when I was ill and seeing all our projects through to completion, for thinking of the ideas for these plans. She was instrumental in creating a large part of my most recent work—”

“A lie!”

The shout echoed through the large chamber, and everyone turned toward the rear of the room where it came from. Whispers went up as the guests craned their necks to witness the commotion.

“He’s lying to you!”

This time she recognized the voice, and her heart sank to the floor—

Whitby.

He pushed his way forward, stumbling over legs and feet as he staggered around the guests like a drunken sailor on a pitching deck. But his eyes gleamed brightly with determination, and his gaze never left her father. The guests in the room parted to let him through as he continued to shout for the judges to stop the ceremony. Awkward laughter and whispers sounded from the confusion swirling through the room.

“Those plans don’t belong to Elias Daring but to another brilliant and yet undiscovered architect.” He stopped in front of the dais and gasped for breath. When he turned around, his eyes landed on Daisy, and a faint grin teased at his lips. “His brilliant and beautiful daughter Daisy.”