Page 6 of The Duke I Wished For (A Maypole in Mayfair #5)

W ell. This was a nightmare.

Blake studied the scene before him as his daughter took great pains not to spill any imaginary tea into Lady Daffodil’s tiny cup.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he assessed the situation. This day had started off badly enough when he’d discovered that the new nanny he’d hired had decided to take a position elsewhere.

And now this.

Daffodil had come upon him taking part in a tea party. Blast it all. And she’d laughed at him…

Although, to be fair, that laugh had been rather lovely. It was so genuine and filled with such good humor, he’d almost been tempted to join in.

He might have, too, if he hadn’t been so keenly aware of how humiliating this was.

And now she was still here because his daughter had invited her and…blast. Had Clarissa really invited a stranger to her tea party?

His heart swelled with emotion. It had been an age since he’d heard her address anyone other than him.

She shied away warily from his staff—even his kind housekeeper, Mrs. Barker.

The nannies he’d hired only seemed to make her condition worse, as though she were terrified of these ladies he’d brought in to care for her.

But here, today, with Daffodil…

“Would you like another?” His daughter’s high-pitched voice was soft and sweet.

“I would love another,” Daffodil said. And then she patted her trim belly, comically wide-eyed as she said confidentially, “But only one more. My corset will simply not allow another bite after that.”

Clarissa giggled as she handed over an invisible…tart, perhaps?

“This cake is sublime,” Daffodil gushed.

Ah, so it was cake then. Blake felt his lips twitching and some of his earlier horror and shock abated into a wry humor as he watched this earl’s daughter dab at the corners of her lips with her napkin while pretending to chew a mouthful of cake.

Daffodil turned to the doll beside her and with the utmost sincerity said, “I do apologize. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

Blake scrubbed a hand over his mouth to hide a grin as Clarissa hastened to make the introductions. Not that he needed to bother hiding his amusement. Neither female was paying him any mind.

You’re not a tradesman . Inappropriate laughter bubbled up inside him as he recalled her earlier comment.

So she hadn’t recognized him then.

He wasn’t sure what to make of that. Did the girl make a habit out of talking to strange men?

Although he had to admit there was something delightful about the fact that she’d been so open and…well, odd around him. Which she likely wouldn’t have done if she’d known his identity.

He listened to her murmur quietly to the doll. Saying nothing of consequence, but all politeness and decorum. This was likely what he would have endured if she’d known who he was.

“Oh, I beg your pardon…” Daffodil turned to smile up at him, and for a moment, Blake forgot his own name. “I did not mean to kick you out of your own party. How very rude of me.”

Clarissa giggled, and Blake found himself playing along. “That’s quite all right. It was actually Mr. Dashwind here who took my spot.” He glared at the toy rabbit that stared blankly through glass eyes. “He’s always trying to steal my tea.”

Clarissa broke into peals of laughter and instantly came to Mr. Dashwind’s defense. And Blake tried not to notice how lovely Daffodil looked when she was smiling at him like that…like he’d just done something heroic.

The moment was interrupted by a knock on the door, which was followed by Mrs. Barker’s entrance. She stopped and stared at the sight of Daffodil. “Why, my lady, I?—”

“It’s quite all right,” he said quickly. “Clarissa invited Lady Daffodil to join us for some tea and she was gracious enough to accept.”

He snuck a sidelong glance, only to find Daffodil giving him that smile again. A little surprised, a little approving, and filled with such sweetness it made something inside him ache with yearning.

“I’m sorry to intrude then, Your Grace,” Mrs. Barker said. “But Mr. Ludright is here for your appointment. Shall I…” Her gaze moved questioningly to Daffodil and Clarissa. “Shall I tell him to come back later? Or perhaps I could watch Clarissa for a while?”

She sounded doubtful—and rightfully so. Few people were busier than Mrs. Barker, who kept this home running like clockwork. And Clarissa had yet to warm to the housekeeper, this being her first trip to their London home.

He’d just opened his mouth to reply that she should tell his solicitor to return in the morning, but Daffodil spoke up first.

“I can stay with Clarissa, if you’d like.”

Both he and Mrs. Barker turned to her in surprise.

It was alarming how beautiful she looked sitting there in a too-small chair with her knees bent too high. She ought to look ridiculous, but her smile was bright and she looked so at ease…

Which was so at odds with how she’d looked the last time he’d seen her at that party, it had him wondering all over again who she’d been hiding from and why.

“Your Grace?” Mrs. Barker prompted softly.

Blast. How long had he been standing there like a dolt?

He cleared his throat, turning his gaze to Clarissa, who was watching him so eagerly it was no question what she’d prefer.

“I’d hate to break up such a delightful tête-à-tête,” he said somberly, earning another adorable grin from Daffodil as she bit her lip to hold back a laugh.

“I’d be delighted to keep Clarissa company while Isabelle works in the library,” she said.

“All right then.” To Mrs. Barker, he added, “Please see that Lady Daffodil and Clarissa have whatever refreshments they need.”

Mrs. Barker’s eyes were alight with laughter. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Blake regretted his decision almost instantly. Not that he doubted that Clarissa would be all right under Daffodil’s supervision. Indeed, he heard echoes of their laughter from his office down the hall.

No, as he stared at the top of Mr. Ludright’s balding head as the other man read aloud from the document in his lap, Blake regretted having left because he felt rather desperate to know what Daffodil was saying to make Clarissa giggle like that.

Truly, it had been a wonder, watching Clarissa warm up to someone so quickly.

“She likes her, Your Grace,” Mrs. Barker had said in a quiet murmur as she’d led the way out of Clarissa’s nursery.

So it would seem. His head cocked to the side as Daffodil’s light laughter joined Clarissa’s. When was the last time this house had been filled with laughter?

Certainly not since his wife passed.

Not before then either, that he could recall. His wife, God rest her soul, had been a quiet woman. Proper and dutiful, but there’d been little life in her, not even when she’d held her own child in her arms.

“A timid creature,” his brother had said when he’d first met Blake’s bride. “Are you sure she has the constitution to live with the likes of you?”

His brother had been teasing…mostly. But the answer, sadly, was no.

He and his wife had lived separate lives, for the most part, so he couldn’t say he was truly heartbroken to lose her.

But he’d grieved all the same, for the mother his daughter would never know.

For the woman who might not have loved him, but who’d given him his heart when she’d given birth to their child.

Clarissa was his whole reason for existing now, and had been ever since she was born. And the girl deserved the very best.

She deserved a mother.

His fingers tapped on the desk, and he barely heard a word of what the solicitor said next.

When the older man stopped speaking and waited expectantly, Blake had to force himself back to the moment, training his attention on the man in front of him rather than listening down the hall for the sounds of laughter.

“Why don’t you leave the document for me to review,” he said.

“I’d prefer to read it over when I…have a clearer head. ”

And by that he meant, when my head is not full of a certain beautiful blonde with an intoxicating laugh and a smile that outshines the sun.

The moment the solicitor departed, he hurried back to the playroom. They didn’t hear him, and for a long moment, he stood in the doorway and watched them, his heart so swollen it threatened to burst out of his chest at the sweetness of it all.

Daffodil had moved to the rocking chair in the corner and was reading to Clarissa, who was curled up in her lap, looking content as could be as she snuggled this woman she’d only just met.

He stood there for an age, not wanting to break the perfection of this moment. Wishing with all his might that he could capture this scene and save it.

But then Daffodil read, “The end,” and shut the book.

“One more!” Clarissa called out.

Blake smiled. Clarissa always wanted one more book.

“You sound like my sister when she was little,” Daffodil said. “I used to read to her too, you know.”

“Will you stay for dinner?” Clarissa asked.

“I would if I could, but I’ll have to return home when my friend finishes her work in your library. And besides, your father will likely be back soon.”

Blake really should have interrupted then. If he had, he might have spared himself a world of discomfort.

“He won’t be back until late,” his daughter said. “He’s off wife hunting.”

“He’s…what?”

Blake made a strangled sound and Daffodil turned to see him there. Her brows were knit in confusion.

Clarissa seemed blithely unaware of the fact that she’d horrified her father and he profoundly regretted speaking so openly in front of her when he’d spoken to his brother during his last visit.

“Wife hunting?” Daffodil asked, but her gaze was on Blake.

“Papa has a list,” his daughter said.

“A list.”

“Er, what she means is…”

“Popper,” Clarissa said.

Both he and Daffodil turned to the girl in confusion.

He figured it out first. The girl’s R s were often hard to distinguish, and what she’d meant was…

“Proper?” Daffodil guessed.

Clarissa grinned.

Blake tugged at his cravat as Daffodil turned to him, the laughter in her eyes as humiliating as it was bewitching.

“She overheard me discussing matrimonial prospects.” Blast, he sounded horribly stiff, even to his own ears. “With my brother,” he added.

“I see.” She rolled her lips inward, and her nostrils flared…

The girl was laughing at him. Again.

And heaven help him if his own lips weren’t starting to twitch in turn. His daughter had once more put him in a ridiculous situation.

“Well, if you’re done with your, er…your hunt,” she said as she gently set Clarissa aside and got to her feet.

“It was a meeting,” he said, perhaps too quickly. “With my solicitor.”

“I’m sure it’s none of my concern.” Her smile and her voice were so sweet, he had no doubt she was mocking him.

Or perhaps…teasing him. The thought made him oddly off-balance. No one ever teased him. Except for his brother, perhaps.

He was a duke, after all.

But when she flashed him a dimpled smile, her look conspiratorial as if they shared a private joke…

Well. Perhaps he rather liked being teased.

A girl’s voice in the hallway startled them all. “Daff? Are you down here?”

He arched his brows. “Daff?”

To his surprise, she blushed and rushed toward the door. Toward him. “In here, Isabelle!”

Ah, of course. He blinked and turned toward the door where a willowy brunette hovered hesitantly. “Pardon me,” she said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Not at all,” Daffodil said quickly. Though he suspected the apology hadn’t been intended for her.

Isabelle smiled at him. “I must be off, I’m afraid, but I do so appreciate your assistance with my endeavor, Your Grace.”

He nodded. He’d been introduced to the girl by her father nearly a year before. “It’s a wonderful idea. I’m happy to be of assistance.”

Daffodil seemed to be edging toward the door like she was eager to escape. He frowned. He didn’t want to see her leave, which…was odd.

He glanced over at Clarissa, who looked as crestfallen as he felt. She liked Daffodil.

Blast it all, he liked Daffodil.

All at once he understood perfectly why his brother had laughed so hard when he’d shown him that silly list.

Daffodil had spelled it out for him in no uncertain terms at their first meeting. What a daughter needed was a mother who was kind, and compassionate, and…

He swallowed hard as Daffodil turned toward Isabelle and whispered something. He only just barely caught himself from reaching out to her.

What was happening to him?

But he knew…of course he knew.

Daffodil was everything Clarissa could want in a mother. And what was more…

She might just be everything he could ever desire in a wife.

“Lady Isabelle,” he said, so abruptly, both women turned to him with wide, startled eyes.

“Y-yes?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze darting to Daffodil, who was giving Clarissa a sweet little wave. “I can’t imagine you finished cataloging my library so quickly. If you’d like to return…”

“Oh, yes, I would like that,” Isabelle said on a rush of air.

He turned his gaze to Daffodil. “I’m sure I’m not speaking out of turn when I say my daughter would be delighted to host you for tea again as well.”

Clarissa clapped. “Yes, please!”

Daffodil’s laughter felt like cool rain on a hot summer’s day. She turned her brilliant smile to encompass Clarissa. “I would love nothing more than another tea party.”

“Good.” His voice was far too gruff as he led them out of the playroom and toward the front door. “Then I’ll expect a visit soon…from both of you.”