Page 21 of Two Lies and A Lord

“Lord Devin is too old for you,” Lady Wharton stated. “Your father’s age has always been a barrier between us.”

“Yes, but Father is twenty years older than you are,” Daisy observed.

“You may marry a man three years older than you at the most.”

Daisy kept her mouth shut; her mother would surely change her mind if Lord Devin—one of the richest and most eligible bachelors in London—began paying marked attention to her daughter.

Every time she thought about Miles’s eyes, dazzling possibilities sprang alive in her mind. Ones where she married the man who had told her not to move lest he’d shock polite society, and who had sucked in a desperate breath when she disobeyed and leaned back against him.

Except …

As it turned out, Miles didn’t even look at her.

He paid her no attention at all.

When she and her mother walked into the drawing room, Daisy’s eyes went directly to where he was standing with his sister Clementine.

Their hostess, Lady Castlereigh, hurried toward the door, hands outstretched in greeting, but Miles didn’t stir. His eyes cut in their direction, and then he turned directly back to his conversation. In the candlelight, his face was chiseled as if shaped from stone, except no marble angel had a brow so disdainful.

Daisy swallowed hard. He was wearing an exquisite coat of dove-gray silk adorned with black embroidery at the hem and cuffs. He looked far too elegant for someone like her, whose hair already felt as if it might topple to one side.

Perhaps Miles didn’t want to make a show of his attention? After all, gossips had seen them together at the ball, even if no one had glimpsed her ripped garment.

But a leaden feeling in her stomach suggested that he didn’t wish to pay her attention at all. He’d rethought the prospect of marrying her—if he’d even considered it. He was tall and dignified; she was short and plump, with fly-away hair and a snub nose. Her own mother thought she was a giddy fool.

When Daisy arrived at that end of the room, her heart beating in her ears, Miles bowed with punctilious briskness. “Lady Wharton, it is a pleasure to see you again so soon. And your daughter, of course.”

Her mother surged forward and patted him on the arm. “You were quite the gentleman last evening, Lord Devin. Thank you for rescuing Daisy from an embarrassing situation.”

“Oh dear,” Clementine said, grimacing. “What happened?”

“My gown ripped,” Daisy said.

“My brother is quite experienced with such rescues,” Clementine said sympathetically. “My family still tells tales of my older sister’s debut ball, when the Prince Regent trod on her hem and tore the ruffle clean off! Miles saved the day by sweeping her away before anyone noticed.”

“Precisely as he did for Daisy!” Lady Wharton cried. “How I wish that my daughter had an older brother like him. Thankfully, Lord Devin fulfilled the role last night. I expect it comes naturally to him.”

Older brother?

“I am partially responsible for the lack of an uncle in Miss Wharton’s life,” Miles said with sardonic emphasis. “I assure you, Lady Wharton, that I feel avuncular concern for your daughter.”

Daisy’s heart plummeted to her toes.

“Avuncular!” Clementine tapped Miles on the shoulder with her fan. “You are becoming more like a stuffy uncle every day.” She turned to Daisy and Lady Wharton. “My brother has changed so much since he took on that awful position in the House of Lords. I promise that he used to be cheerful.”

Avuncular.

The word went around in Daisy’s head without making much sense, but then she was never very good at vocabulary questions.

He hadn’t felt avuncular yesterday, when his cock was throbbing against her bottom.

Miles bowed. “Please excuse me. Lady Regina has arrived, and I should greet her.”

The moment he walked away, Clementine said, “If my brother marries Regina, I shall be so disappointed.”

“It would be an appropriate match,” Lady Wharton said. “She must be nearing twenty-five.”

“Age is not everything,” Daisy said.