Page 35 of If a Lady Lingers

Daisy rolled her tear-blurred eyes. Even now Nash and the judges couldn’t give complete credit to a woman for being an architect. As if reading her mind, Whitby squeezed her hands.

“—the committee has determined that the entry itself violates the rules of the contest that required each entry to be the work of a single architect—”

“Sheisa single architect!” Whitby corrected angrily. “She hasn’t sprouted a second head, for God’s sake!”

Nash narrowed his eyes at Whitby as the crowd laughed. “—and so must be disqualified!”

A gasp of disbelief echoed through the chamber. Her father grimly gave back the envelope. But when he turned to step to the floor, a cheer of appreciation for him went up from the crowd that lasted several minutes, and long enough that his face flushed with embarrassment and the judges’ with vexation. When he finally stepped down, men lined up to shake his hand and congratulate him on his career and on his daughter’s accomplishments. No one cared that the judges announced the new winner and called the man up to the dais; the room’s attention was focused on Elias Daring and his daughter, especially those of the wives and widows who pressed toward Daisy with requests to renovate their London homes. A few even asked if she could build them entirely new country boxes on the outskirts of London.

Flushed and surprised by the goodwill and attention, she greeted each one in turn and assured them that she’d be thrilled to work with them, that she had all kinds of new ideas for plans and decorations that hadn’t been seen before in London, that she had an entire book of designs, in fact…She was simply overwhelmed by it all!

As the women and their husbands pushed in around her, Whitby slipped his hands from hers and stepped back to join her father at the edge of the room, to let her have this moment that she deserved. From the corner of her eye, she saw her father reach up to pat Whitby affectionately on the back.

The footmen opened two towering, gold-gilded doors at the side of the reception hall, and the attention of the guests instantly snapped to them. Voices fell to hushed and excited whispers, and electricity once more buzzed through the room.

“His Most Gracious Majesty,” the master of ceremonies called out from the doorway and stamped his staff twice against the floor to announce the arrival of the monarch, “King of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Defender of the Faith!”

He swept back with a deep bow to allow the guests to pass through for their royal audience with the king.

Each snatched up a glass of fresh champagne from the trays of a dozen footmen lining both sides of the doorway as they glided out of the room. As they went, they were still chattering among themselves about the evening’s turn of events and Daisy’s innovative yet beautiful plans. The judges followed behind bitterly and utterly ignored. Her father winked at her and sauntered after them. He—and everyone else at the ceremony—knew who the true winner was.

But Whitby stayed.

He approached her slowly. Heedless of the servants who lingered in the room after the guests had left, he once more took both of her hands in his, once more lifted them to his lips to kiss them.

“I’m so sorry,” she rushed out tearfully, her voice raw. “I ruined everything.” With a shake of her head, she pulled in a ragged breath. “I was too cowardly to put myself out into the world before, and I…I hurt you because of it.” She tightened her fingers in his as she begged for forgiveness. “I know now that you were only trying to help me—that’s all you’ve ever done for my family and me. I am so sorry, Hugh. So very sorry.”

He said nothing, but his face darkened grimly, the light vanishing with his fading smile.

“But I’m not like you. I don’t have the courage to be bold or so uncaring about what people think.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You do have boldness and brightness inside you—you just need to learn to let it out.” He reassuringly rubbed his thumbs in circles over her palms. “And I do care about what people think. Some people anyway.” He brushed away a single tear that broke free and slid down her cheek. “I care a great deal about what the people I love think about me.” He looked down into her eyes. “I care about whatyouthink,Daisy.”

He placed his lips to her forehead in a kiss so soft that she had to squeeze her eyes closed against the tender torture of it.

“Please forgive me,” she whispered, unable to open her eyes and face any recrimination on his face. “For all those horrible things I said, I—I need your forgiveness.”

“I know why you said those things, why you didn’t want to see me. It no longer matters.”

She opened her eyes and stared up into his tear-blurred face. “But it does matter…because I’ve lost you.” Anguish twisted her insides, and it took all her strength to whisper, “You’re with that other woman now.”

“Other… Who?” Confusion gripped his face as he glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting to find another woman standing right there.

“The raven-haired woman you escorted to Baron Hansen’s party. I saw you with her.” Her shoulders dropped. “She loves you.”

“I hope so! I’m her best friend.” He grinned sheepishly at her. “Well, second to her husband and family, that is.” When her mouth fell open, he reached up to gently close it. “That was Lady Robert Carlisle.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip with a chuckle. “Mariah Winslow Carlisle. The woman who helps me run Gatewell School. I escorted her to the Hansen party because Lord Robert was in Dover on business. We’re only friends.”

“Only friends?”

“Goodness, yes!” His face scrunched with distaste. “I would never consider Mariah in that way. Besides,” he added seriously, “Robert Carlisle would kill me.”

“Then you…you haven’t replaced me?”

He gave her a smile of such love that her heart somersaulted. “I could never replace you. You have my heart, Daisy Daring. You’ve had it from the moment I first saw you, with your sketch book and drafting pencil, and you always will.” He cupped her face against his palm. “I could never stop loving you.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to lean in and kiss her, an act that would surely have them barred from the palace for the rest of their lives. And she simply didn’t care if they were. She wanted his kiss, wanted his love— She wantedhim.

Instead, he dropped to one knee.