The earl looked startled. “You’re right!” he said. “I’ve done with questions. We should rejoin them straightaway.”

But when they got back to the viscount’s room, he was alone. Leland lay on his back, studying the ceiling.

“Where’s Daisy?” the earl asked.

“I devoured her,” Leland said in annoyance. “How the devil should I know? She left a few minutes ago, and I’m not permitted to follow.”

“We must have just missed her,” Helena said. “She’s probably waiting for me downstairs.”

Daisy was waiting in the front hall. Her face was a bit paler than usual. “Are you well?” the earl asked.

“Very,” she said. “But it’s time to go.” She smiled at Helena. “I deserted the viscount when I realized that. I am learning proper behavior again; aren’t you proud of me?”

Helena would have been if she hadn’t seen the distress beneath Daisy’s words. The woman might have lived a life that would harden most people beyond recognition, but she was still a transparent liar.


“There’s no way you won’t be the belle of the ball,” Helena said.

Daisy nodded glumly. There was no fault she could find with Madame Bertrand’s latest effort. Her gown was yellow, with a low neck and long sleeves, and a pink sash beneath her breasts to show her figure to advantage. Her hair was done up with pink roses, and her maid had dusted a puff of rouge across her cheekbones. It might have been too much by day, but she’d glow in lamp and candlelight.

“I don’t want to be sensational,” Daisy said. “I only want to be able to enjoy myself.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Helena asked.

Daisy hesitated. She’d been aching to talk to someone about her problem, but wasn’t used to confiding in anyone, much less trusting them. It was true Helena was older, and better acquainted with Society, and yet Daisy wasn’t sure she could share with her. It had been hard for Daisy since that morning she’d kissed Leland. She’d steeled herself, and had visited him again. They’d both pretended nothing had happened. But she could see the knowledge in his eyes, as well as the desire for more. She, too, felt the lure of him; it was intense and undeniable. It frightened her, and she hated to be afraid. She knew he wouldn’t embarrass her in public. She was very worried about what might happen in private.

Daisy dismissed her maid and sat down on the edge of a chair. She picked a nonexistent thread from her skirt, smoothed it, and then without looking up, finally dared.

“What do you think of Viscount Haye?” she asked Helena. “I mean, really.”

“It’s not my place-”

“Bother!” Daisy said impatiently. “I asked, so it is.”

“So it is, I suppose,” Helena said. “Then I’ll tell you. I think he’s very attractive, though it’s hard to know precisely why.” She smiled. “He has the reputation of a rake, but he’s so amusing that it seems to be something he invented to laugh at. In brief, I’d say he’s charming and intelligent, and that for all his reputation, there’s no real harm in him.”

Daisy nodded. She pleated a bit of her skirt in her fingers. She had to ask more so that she’d know what to do next. The ton lived in a world alien to her, but not to Helena Masters. If she wanted to live in that world, she had to trust her companion. “He kissed me,” she told Helena. “How do I go on with him after that?”

Helena frowned. So did Daisy. She knew she’d asked a question that a girl of sixteen might, not one a widow would.

“You mean socially?” Helena asked carefully.

“Aye, that,” Daisy muttered. “And any other way.”

“Did you protest? Or slap him? Or… ”

“I kissed him back,” Daisy said bitterly. “I can’t blame him except it was like he’d thrown some sort of spell over me. I didn’t protest, or slap him, but I did run away.”

“Was it so distasteful?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” Daisy said. “Well, I do,” she muttered to the floor. “It was nice, very nice. But I knew what comes after, so I got out of there fast as I could. There’s nothing worse than what comes after, and I want no part of it. The question is: How do I prevent it in future without getting him angry? Because I do like to see him and talk to him, and I will, because he’s Geoff’s good friend.”

She kept her eyes on the floor. The truth was, she couldn’t forget that kiss. For a miracle, it had actually tempted her to try for more. She’d left him before that madness, and madness it would be. But she couldn’t forget the feelings he had woken. She hadn’t felt them in years, since before Tanner, in fact. They weren’t desires she wanted, but she couldn’t repress them. They made her squirm and ache, and even came to her in dreams she tried to forget when she woke.

“So what do I do?” she asked, scowling fiercely. She’d planned every step of her way back to England, and it was hard to find something that might block her goal here at the last.

“Do you intend to do it again?” Helena asked. “I mean, kiss him?”

“God, no!” Daisy said.

Helena remained silent a moment. Then she cleared her throat. “Stealing a kiss from a grown woman who seems to know what she’s about isn’t such a sin,” she said. “Not even stealing two or three. Nor should it discourage your friendship with him if you make it clear it can’t happen again. But what concerns me is the rest of what you said.

“Daisy, ‘what comes after’ isn’t worse,” she said slowly. “Well, I suppose it is if you’re not married to the fellow and have no plans to be. You know what gossip is. But if it were done with discretion, no one would mind, or be surprised. You’re a widow, you have more leeway, and the viscount is a single man. Of course, it would be wrong to have an affaire with him. Apart from the risk of bearing a child, which I assume he would be clever enough to make less possible, if you had an affaire and he left you, someone might find out. That wouldn’t do wonders for your reputation. Actually, he’d be a brilliant match for you. He’s intelligent, wealthy, has excellent address, and he doesn’t have to answer to anyone. In fact, it would be quite a coup. But I don’t say it could be done. He’s defied matchmakers for years now.”

Daisy’s head snapped up. “I don’t want to marry him!” she said in horror. “All I want to know is how to go on with him comfortably now after that kiss.”

“You go on as you did before,” Helena said. “He’ll understand so long as you make it clear, by word or attitude, that you don’t wish to have any more of it. But why do you say what comes after a kiss is so terrible?” she persisted. “It isn’t, it’s wonderful if you’ve the right man.”

“Wonderful?” Daisy said in surprise. “No, thank you; that it is not. I suppose the viscount can’t help it because that’s the sort of man he is, a slave to his passions, and when he likes a woman all he can think of is having her. One of the best things about Geoff is that he likes me and yet doesn’t expect that sort of thing. Maybe because he’s older, maybe because he has such fine sensibilities, but he’s above that.”

Helena sat down quickly on a nearby chair. “Daisy!” she said breathlessly. “That’s just not so. I’m sure it isn’t. He’s a man; the fact that he’s older doesn’t mean he’s dead. Sensual pleasure is the right of any man of any age, and women, too. If the earl cared for a woman, naturally he’d want to have relations with her. I’m not saying he doesn’t care for you, because clearly he does. But maybe because he has fine sensibilities he wouldn’t steal a kiss unless he’d plans to marry you.”

Daisy fiddled with the pleat she’d made in her skirt. “The truth of it is, Helena, that I don’t like it.” She looked up with sudden hope. “But you’ll agree that an older man doesn’t want to do it that often?”

Helena laughed in flustered surprise. “I don’t know. I really don’t. The best thing to do would be to ask him.”

“Talk about it?” Daisy asked in shock.

“Why not? If the moment’s right, of course. If you’re seriously considering marrying him, you must discuss it. It’s true Society may produce girls who have no idea of what to expect in the marriage bed. You do. The men you meet expect that. You’re a woman grown, a widow to boot. The earl, or any grown man, will have certain expectations. It wouldn’t be fair to enter into a marriage without discussing how you feel about the act of love with him first.”

“Act of love,” Daisy muttered. “A pretty way of talking about a rude thing. It really is, you know. Like the way a person’s entrails work: It’s a thing of the body that polite people don’t discuss, unless they use flowery or scientific speech. I came from a place where people said what they meant. They didn’t say they had to find the ‘withdrawing room’ at the end of dinner, I can tell you that. And they didn’t talk about ‘the act of love,’ neither. Instead they said f-” She paused. “I suppose I am too much of a lady-or you are-for me to go on, so I won’t. But thank you. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“Please feel free to talk about it with me any time,” Helena said “But more important, please remember you can talk about it with anyone you think might one day be a lover.”

“Little chance of that!” Daisy said.

Helena’s expression was sympathetic. “Was it so bad then?”

“Then? Oh yes,” Daisy said. She remembered Tanner’s groping hands and insistent body, and shuddered. “I didn’t like him, and so you can imagine how much I didn’t like that with him.” She gave Helena a clear-eyed look. “I’m not so stupid that I don’t think it might be different for different people, or with different people. But honestly, I don’t even like to think about it. Still, if and when Geoff asks me to marry him, I wouldn’t lie to him.”

She took a deep breath. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. In the meanwhile, thank you.”