Page 20 of The Duke I Wished For
Then the little girl was tugging Daff toward the duke, who graciously turned and held out his elbow to her.
Her hand slipped into the crook of his arm, her breath catching at the solid muscle that flexed underneath her fingers.
Clarissa’s hand was still clasped in hers as he looked down at them both. “Shall we?”
“Let’s.” A quick glance over her shoulder revealed that all three of her family members stared back.
But it was her mother who made a shooing motion, urging Daffodil away. The gesture filled her stomach with lead. Surely, her mother’s support was not a good sign.
6
Blake looked over at Daffodil, his daughter’s hand folded into hers, and he knew…this was exactly right.
Clarissa skipped along next to Daffodil as the little girl hummed softly to herself. She came to life every time Daffodil came near—and so did he.
She was like the morning sun after a long, dark light. Without thinking, he pulled her a touch closer, leaning down to catch a whiff of her scent. Was that the flowers blooming about them or did she smell of roses after a rain?
They stopped near the maypole, Daffodil pointing toward it as she leaned down close to Clarissa. “Look, they’re dancing. They’ll keep spinning about the pole until they’ve twisted the ribbon tight around it.”
“It’s beautiful,” Clarissa gushed, bouncing up and down. “And the dancers are so lovely.”
Clarissa pointed to Jane and Isabelle. “Those two are my friends. Jane has the auburn hair and you remember Isabelle from our tea party.”
“She’s the one interested in books?” the duke asked as they started forward again.
“That’s right,” she answered, a blush coloring her cheeks. “She has dreams of starting a library for the poor with a rotating set of books from various well-stocked libraries. It’s so honorable. Would that I had such a goal.” Her chin dipped as her gaze cast to the ground.
Blake disliked the dejected set of her chin. Didn’t Daffodil know that she was kinder and brighter than any woman he’d ever met? “I ought to introduce her to my brother. He earned a barony for his valor in the war and the library he inherited is unlike any other in the country.”
She did look up at him then and he was rewarded with the loveliest grin, the sort that made her blue eyes dance in the sun.
Making their way to the vendors, Hathshire purchased several slices of orange, and then they found an open bench to sit and eat them.
Clarissa climbed on one end, Daffodil taking the spot in the middle and then he sat on the other end, one arm sliding along the back of the bench.
His hand brushed the sleeve of her dress, the muslin sliding over his fingers. As the sun filtered through the trees, he listened to Clarissa chatter as they ate. He hardly listened, his attention fixed upon Daffodil until her words filtered into his thoughts, alarm bells ringing in his head.
“And Mr. Bingsworth fell out of my bed in the middle of the night. I was concerned because you don’t know what might be down there on the floor in the dark.”
Daffodil smiled at her, wrapping a comforting arm about Clarissa. “I understand. The dark can be a frightening place. I would make my father come into my room each night before bed and check the wardrobe and under the bed, just to make certain nothing scary lurked about.”
“Did he find anything?” Clarissa asked, setting down her first peel as her attention fixed on Daffodil.
“Nope. I was always perfectly safe.”
“Not even diseases?” Clarissa asked, her voice dropping down to a whisper in a way that made his stomach clench with worry.
“Diseases?” Daffodil asked. “Are you worried about those? They’re very hard to see.”
The little girl nodded. “That’s what Nanny Francis said as well. But that if you weren’t careful, they could hurt you like they did my mother.”
“Oh.” Daffodil looked at him, her eyes filled with alarm. But he couldn’t utter a word. The moment had caught him so off guard. It wasn’t that the nanny was wrong exactly but…to worry a little girl like that, one who’d lost her mother… His fist clenched to think of it. Why hadn’t Clarissa told him this before?
“Sickness can hurt people sometimes, but not Mr. Bingsworth, and diseases are not something you should worry overmuch about,” Daffodil said gently, brushing a stray hair back from Clarissa’s face. “Most of them only cause minor sniffles, especially when you’re healthy and strong. Eat up your oranges and you’ll grow big and strong too.”
Clarissa smiled at Daffodil, looking relieved. “Eat the oranges?” the girl asked, looking down at the slices still wrapped in a cloth. “That sounds delicious.”
Relief made him limp as he watched Clarissa unwrap another slice. How had Daffodil done it? She’d comforted the child but she’d empowered her too. An action that would help to keep her safe.
