Page 44 of To Steal a Lyon’s Heart (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #85)

D aisy was too enraged to speak when she stepped out of the private parlor, clutching the book to her chest. Amelia was waiting, speaking to Mr. Chase. He took one glance at the book before meeting her eyes.

“Would you like an escort?” he asked, “Since Lord Alston is not here?”

Daisy shook her head. Nothing would stop her from meeting Cliffton now. Today was his reckoning. She’d waited years for him to see her, to want her. Now she would bring him to his knees and leave him begging for her forgiveness.

“What is the matter, Daisy?” Amelia asked with concern.

“I need to visit Lady Claystone. Right now.” Before her courage faltered, before this fiery anger inside her wilted for even one moment.

“Sam said not to let you go, no matter what you said. He was afraid you’d feel guilty—”

Daisy whirled toward her. “This isn’t about Sam. This is about me and Cliffton, about how his mother strung me along, a lamb being fattened for slaughter. They have schemed and lied, and now they will look me in the eye and confess or I will destroy everything they hold dear.”

Amelia nodded. “Absolutely. Let’s go.”

Mr. Chase blocked them. “You look ready to murder someone. I think I should come.”

“That’s an astute assessment, Mr. Chase, but this is something I have to do on my own,” Daisy said.

“I will insist. You have neither Alston nor Blakewood here to offer protection. Please, let me at least ride with you to your destination. Just in case there is anything I can do for you.”

Daisy’s jaw locked. Her tears burned like they were boiling in her eyes.

“Thank you, Mr. Chase,” Amelia said. “I think that would be wise. Just for the journey. As a safeguard.”

Mr. Chase took her arm, and they swiftly headed toward the ladies’ entrance. He already knew the address, peculiarly. She pinned him with a glare once the coach got moving.

“Why is it that you and the widow feel you can insert yourselves into everyone’s lives and then use them for your own purposes?”

He grimaced. “To be fair, most of the people we deal with deserve it.”

Daisy scoffed.

“Dear, did you want to talk about it?” Amelia asked.

“No. I don’t.” Daisy clenched her teeth. She was saving every bitter ounce of rage for Cliffton.

Amelia shared a glance with Mr. Chase and it infuriated Daisy that she was the one to be made to feel so... so crazy, when she was the—

She couldn’t even say the words in her mind. Their journey to Marylebone passed in a red haze for Daisy. But by the time the carriage rolled to a stop. Daisy was nearly sick with the hate and rage twisting inside her.

“Stay in here,” Daisy said. “Please, for once, just do as I ask.” She didn’t want anyone else to hear what they had done to her. What they were willing to do to her and her family.

“You didn’t ask, you ordered, but yes, if that is what you want,” Amelia said. “If you’re certain?”

“I have to do this alone.”

“Do what alone?” Mr. Chase asked.

“End my engagement.”

He exhaled. “We’ll be waiting here. You only need to shout, and I’ll hear it.”

“If you hear screaming, it won’t be from me.”

Amelia smiled at that. Daisy stepped out of the coach, clutching the diary to her chest, her grip on it so tight that her hand burned.

The door opened, and the butler greeted her. She’d been here many times in the past, and he knew her name.

“Miss Blakewood, you aren’t to arrive for some time yet. Her ladyship is not ready to receive visitors, and Lord Cliffton is abed.”

“This is urgent business, Mr. Weeds. Please tell the countess I am here to speak with her and her son.”

He lifted his chin, and she could see his refusal building. Daisy pushed passed him, surprising him. He stumbled back though he was a full head taller and two of her in width.

“Miss Blakewood,” he said harshly. Two footmen approached. Both tall, blond haired, and green eyed as Lady Claystone preferred.

“Tell her I’ve found her diary,” Daisy said. “I’ll wait for her in the drawing room.”

“If you could simply hand it to me—”

“No.” Daisy barked. He startled. She’d frightened him. Good. “She will see me, immediately.”

Daisy turned on her toe and went up the stairs to the drawing room. She sat stiffly on the sofa and waited. Her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t hear the ticking of the clock on the mantle.

“Go, you buffoon,” Came a crazed whisper from the hall, and Cliffton walked into the room, dressed in slippers and a dressing gown.

He smoothed his straight brown hair, waxed to part in the middle.

His eyes were the same brown she remembered, his cheeks ruddy and plump.

He wasn’t a heavy-set young man, but he had a round face—joyful, Daisy might have once said, if she were inclined to feel anything toward him at all other than malice.

“Miss Blakewood, what a charming surprise,” he said.

Daisy bit her tongue as a scream rose in her throat.

He swallowed, “Are you feeling all right? Shall we ring for tea?” He glanced at his mother who had yet to come into the drawing room and was lingering in the hall.

“Why didn’t you write to me?” Daisy had to know. Why, in all this time, couldn’t he have been bothered to make even the barest of efforts? He had intended to marry her, ruin her life, humiliate and steal from her, but he couldn’t take the time to even pretend he liked her?

“Well, you see, my penmanship is terrible, and the post is unreliable.”

“The post is perfectly acceptable.”

“I’m not good at writing letters.”

“So, you didn’t bother at all? I didn’t warrant a single sentence?”

“Miss Blakewood!” His mother finally entered, wearing the widest, most severely strained smile Daisy had ever seen.

Daisy hugged the book tighter as if the countess might rip it from her hands.

As usual, she wore severe white and black, this time her dress mostly white with wide black lapels for decoration and large black buttons.

“How punctual you are. Our Richard returned early this morning and could not wait to see you. The feeling must have been mutual to bring you here so swiftly. Is that my diary? How on earth did you find it?”

Her eyes danced with panic. It was terrifying to see. Daisy stood and handed it to her and her shoulders slumped.

“A friend recovered it.”

She clutched it with white knuckles. “Brilliant! We had a thief in the house last night. He nearly burned my bedroom down, you should know. I cannot sleep in there and my dresses are ruined. Claystone let me use his rooms and went to his club. I am so thankful you brought it right back to me or rather—”

“I’m surprised you claimed it,” Daisy interrupted with a laugh. “A smarter woman wouldn’t have.”

Lady Claystone shook her head, and the tight white curls on her head wiggled. “Tea? Shall I ring for tea?”

“I won’t be staying long.” Daisy’s heart might punch though her chest, but she was going to do this even if it was the last thing she ever did. She would not let these people bleed her of her fortune, her heart, her kindness. She would not be trampled under Lady Claystone’s heel.

“I wish to end the engagement.” Daisy said, inwardly wincing. Wish? She didn’t wish. She demanded. “I demand that it cease this very moment.”

Cliffton’s mouth fell open.

Lady Claystone scoffed. “You can’t be serious. Cliffton has returned. Preparations can begin at last!”

“Oh, but I am. I will not be party to bigamy .”

Cliffton choked.

Lady Claystone’s face turned as white as her gown.

“Oh, yes. I read your diary. I know all about Lady Cliffton and her young son. Congratulations, Cliffton, on the birth of your heir. I wish you eternal health.” Bile rose in her throat.

“Copies of that passage were made specifically as insurance for me. If you want this information to remain private , which I think you should, you’ll promptly end this sham of a betrothal, and never—and I mean never— speak to me or my parents again. ”

Her heart raced so fast it felt like it was vibrating in her chest.

“Miss—Daisy.” Cliffton strode forward, attempting to grab her hand. “Nothing could be further from the truth.”

“Do not lie to me. There isn’t anything you can do or say that would convince me to marry you. You have a wife and a child. Why on earth did you think you could get away with this?”

His face turned red.

“Why didn’t you just break the engagement yourself if you wanted to marry someone else!”

“Because she isn’t suitable,” Lady Claystone screeched. “She’s a pauper. A farmer’s daughter. She isn’t fit to be the Countess of Claystone. The fool married her for love ,” she spat.

Daisy turned to her. “But legally, she is his wife. What did you think would happen when he married me? You’d simply scratch out her name off the register and add mine?”

Lady Claystone barked out a laugh. “You silly chit. No one would have realized. Not once we’d paid the registrar a handsome sum to destroy the records and paid that doxy to keep her mouth closed, if not her legs!”

Daisy felt her words like a slap. She couldn’t believe Lady Claystone, who spouted verse after verse about decorum and virtue, would concoct such a vile plan.

“Please, Daisy... we can put all this in the past and marry properly,” Cliffton pressed. “Sooner, if you’d like. We can elope. Wouldn’t an anvil wedding be romantic?”

He reached for her hand again, but Daisy slapped him away. She almost gagged as she took a hasty step away from them.

“You’re deranged if you think I would go along with this disgusting farce.

I say again, I am not marrying you. Ever.

I will leave this room, free of you once and for all.

Or my associate will publish the truth, and you will be ruined.

” She leveled a glare on Lady Claystone, praying she looked as fiercely vengeful as she felt.

“I think your husband would prefer my silence on the subject, yes?”