Winnie Griggs (19 page)

It was obvious how much Abigail craved her brother’s approval. Why was it so hard for Everett to see it?

“Let’s hope he’s
pleasantly
surprised,” Daisy said dryly.

“Oh, you know my brother.” Abigail waved a hand airily. “It takes him a while to adjust to new things, but he’ll come around in time.”

Not the most encouraging of reassurances, but Daisy accepted it as the best they could hope for.

“I suppose we must wait until after the wedding to move all of your things in here, but perhaps there are one or two items you’d like to add now to give it a more womanly touch.”

Daisy immediately balked. She wasn’t ready to intrude on his domain just yet. “I don’t know. That seems a bit presumptuous.”

“Nonsense. Everett needs to get used to sharing.” Abigail took Daisy’s arm and gave it a gentle tug. “Come on. I’ll help you pick out some things.”

Despite her reluctance, Daisy allowed herself to be swayed by Abigail. In the end, they settled on one of her mother’s stitch-work pieces and the toy horse.

When they stepped back and studied the final effect, Abigail smiled. “The perfect hint of a woman’s touch to offset my brother’s somber decor.” She turned and gave Daisy an impulsive hug. “Oh, I’m so happy for Everett. You’re going to be so good for him.”

Daisy certainly hoped the girl was right.

When Everett came upstairs for lunch, Abigail insisted he view the newly furnished room. Daisy stayed in the kitchen, letting Abigail do the honors.

When they came back out, Abigail’s face fairly glowed.

“I told you he’d like it,” she said to Daisy.

“Who am I to question the taste of two such well-traveled ladies?” Everett said with a straight face.

Daisy felt her own spirits rise. Was Everett actually learning to unbend enough to tease his sister?

* * *

Everett’s conscience was troubling him, had been for a number of days. Daisy deserved to know his background now, before they were married. But would she go through with the wedding if she knew? Because it was vital, if they were to salvage her reputation, that the wedding take place.

That was his dilemma.

But this morning he’d decided he couldn’t in good conscience
not
tell her.

So that afternoon, when Daisy stepped out of her building to take her dog for a walk, he was waiting for her.

“Oh, hello.” She looked understandably surprised.

“Do you mind if I come along on your walk?”

“Not at all.” She gave him a speculative look but didn’t ask questions.

They strolled along in silence for a while, until he finally spoke up. “I think you have a right to know who it is you’re marrying.”

Daisy smiled. “I know exactly who I’m marrying—Everett Fulton, newspaper man, good neighbor, respected citizen of Turnabout. A man who is perhaps too much of a stickler and takes himself too seriously, but who has a good heart, is a loving brother, and has a strong sense of what is right and honorable and does his duty without question.”

Her words took him by surprise. Was that truly how she saw him? But he pushed that question away. “What I mean is, you have a right to know my background, where I come from, so to speak.”

She nodded solemnly. “I would love to hear your story, but only if you really want to share it with me.”

He took a deep breath. He hadn’t spoken of this to anyone before. Even Abigail didn’t know the full story. “My father is a member of the English nobility, born the second son of an earl to be more exact.”

* * *

His admission took Daisy by surprise, but it made sense. English nobility—no wonder he seemed so aloof at times. But he was waiting for her response. “Does that mean you’re a member of the nobility, as well?”

“Not exactly.” His smile twisted. “You see, my father never married my mother. She was an actress and considered quite beneath him. Which means I was illegitimate.”

Daisy wasn’t sure what to say to this. But he didn’t give her time to respond.

“Father set her up in a nice cottage at his country estate, and when I came along, he saw that I had tutors, nice clothes, ponies—everything the grandson of an earl should have. But I knew from the outset that I was illegitimate and had no real standing in the family. In fact, I was a bit of an embarrassment and was kept hidden away in the country.”

“Oh, Everett, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “No need to be. As I said, I led a very easy and privileged life. My mother often returned to London to continue her acting career. I was left in the care of servants, and they all catered to me quite nicely.”

This was somehow so much worse than what she’d endured from her grandmother. Daisy tried to match his matter-of-fact tone. “How did you end up in America? Did you get tired of being ignored by your parents?”

“Nothing so noble. When I turned twelve, my father’s older brother died in a boating accident, making him the heir apparent. It became his duty to take a wife in order to provide the family line with a legitimate heir.”

It all sounded so polite, so sterile. Is that where he got his notions of what marriage was all about?

Without any conscious decision, they had arrived at the same log in the same field where Daisy had questioned him about sleeping arrangements.

Everett handed her down then continued his story. “Father’s new wife was understandably loath to share her husband with a mistress and his by-blow. So Mother and I were shipped to America, along with the funds to make sure we would be provided for. He even hired someone to make certain we settled in nicely.”

Everett didn’t sound particularly grateful.

“As luck would have it,” he continued, “Mother was already carrying Abigail when we set sail. However, she didn’t discover this until we were well underway, and eventually my sister was born after we arrived in America.”

“What happened to your mother?”

“She married a playwright who drank too much and spent all her money. She died when Abigail was five.”

She placed a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”

“Again, there’s no reason for you to be. By that time I was on my own and making enough to get by. I’d been worried about Abigail for some time—the home my mother made for her was not the most nurturing of environments. When Mother passed on, I got her out of there—my stepfather didn’t object—and I scraped together enough money to enroll her in Miss Haversham’s school for girls. And I’ve managed to scrape up enough to keep her there ever since.”

Daisy straightened. “My goodness. Your sister has been at that school since she was five?”

His posture took on a slightly defensive cast. “It was the best thing for her. We had no other relatives, at least none we could count on. And she certainly couldn’t live with me, not in the places I was living back then.”

“And now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Now you have a nice home. You’re about to have a wife. Don’t you think this is a good place for her now?”

“There’s nothing for her here.”

“There’s you.”
And me.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

Daisy wanted to shout at him that he never seemed to want to talk about it. But she could sense there was more to his story, and that it wasn’t an easy thing for him to tell it. So she pulled her thoughts back to the conversation at hand. “Do you ever hear from your father?”

“Not directly. Up until I turned twenty-one, his man of business sent me a letter with a small stipend each year on my birthday. He never acknowledged that Abigail was his. And for all I know, he was right. But he supported her, anyway. Because all the money he sent me went directly to Miss Haversham’s to help pay Abigail’s tuition.”

That sounded just like him—not one to take a handout from the father who had rejected him.

“Last I heard,” he added, “he had inherited the title and had two sons and a daughter by his wife.”

“Your half brothers and half sister. And you’ve never met them?” That seemed so sad to her.

He merely shrugged.

She straightened and met his gaze. “Now I know your story, and it doesn’t change any of those things I said about you.”

Was that relief flashing in his expression? Had he truly been worried about how she would react?

But then his expression closed off again. “There’s more.” She saw his fist clench at his side. “I debated about whether or not to tell you this part.”

Chapter Twenty-One

D
aisy saw the uncharacteristic uncertainty on Everett’s face, and she braced herself. Whatever was coming was going to be worse than what he’d already told her. She said a quick prayer that she would react properly.

He reached down and plucked a blade of grass. “It is at the heart of why I left Philadelphia last year. I did something I’m not very proud of.”

“Oh?” She knew he tended to be hard on himself. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he thought.

“I told you I was a reporter for a large newspaper there, and left because the editor and I had a major disagreement. What I didn’t tell you was that he was right to fire me. I would have done the same thing in his place and not lost a minute of sleep over it.”

Goodness, what in the world had he done? Still, she held her peace and let him do the talking.

“I had a lead on a story, a very big story, ripe with the kind of notoriety that sells newspapers. I’d gotten wind of rumors that a prominent local politician had taken a mistress and that the woman bore him a child. This man was married, mind you, and he and his wife had two children.”

Given what she’d just learned of his own history, she could see where such a story would have captured his attention, reporter or not.

“When I looked deeper, I found snippets of information that indicated he had covered up his affair by sending the woman and child to England.” His lips curled in a self-mocking smile. “You can just imagine the irony of such a story falling in my lap. I checked the facts, and they seemed solid. And such was my fervor to expose this dishonorable dignitary that I didn’t keep digging and checking as thoroughly as I usually do.”

Her heart sank as she got an inkling of where this was going.

“Based on my reporting,” he continued, “my editor published the stories and sold tons of papers. Everyone was happy as could be, except, of course, for this politician and his family, who kept protesting his innocence. Naturally, no one believed him—after all, they’d read the truth in a respected newspaper. So, in order to get himself and his family away from all the harsh public attention, this cheating politician gathered his wife and daughters and set sail on their private yacht for a getaway. Unfortunately, they were caught up in a storm, and the boat capsized. The politician and one daughter drowned. The wife and other child survived.”

She placed a hand on his arm to show her sympathy for both the victims and him. “How awful.”

He seemed not to notice her gesture. “A week later, the story I had written proved false. The carefully crafted lie and so-called proof had been engineered and fed to me by one of his political opponents. Someone who knew it was a story I couldn’t resist.”

“Oh, Everett, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Because of my lack of objectivity, a good man and his family were publicly raked over the coals. And my actions, no matter how indirect, led to his death and that of his daughter.” He stood and looked down at her. “I just thought you should know what sort of man you were yoking yourself to before it was too late for you to back out.”

With that, he turned and left her there.

Daisy felt at a loss as she watched him leave. What he’d done had had terrible consequences. But she could see that he was hurting, that he was filled with remorse and self-loathing. She should have said something, done something to comfort him. But she’d failed him.

Father above, Everett is a man in need of forgiveness, both from You and from himself. I know You will forgive him if he but asks, but how can I help him to see that? Please, help me find a way.

* * *

Everett walked into his office and sat at his desk shuffling papers, but was unable to concentrate on any of it. Telling Daisy had been the right thing to do, the honorable thing. But that hadn’t made it any easier.

She now had to choose between marrying a man who had done this truly unforgivable thing, or live with a tarnished reputation. What was she thinking? It had been cowardly of him to leave so abruptly, but reliving that nightmare had scraped his feelings raw, and he couldn’t bear to see loathing or rejection in her eyes.

He had attended the funeral, had seen the politician and his daughter laid to rest. The sight of those two caskets had been convicting. The sight of the grieving widow and surviving daughter had wrenched something deep inside him.

He’d stood in the back of the crowd, not wanting his presence to bring further pain to this family. But somehow the widow had seen him. For one endless moment, their eyes had locked across that cemetery lawn and he’d felt her pain. When she finally looked away—turned her back on him—he’d walked away.

Would Daisy turn her back on him, as well?

His door opened and Daisy marched in, her dog at her heels. Her eyes were flashing with some strong emotion and he surged to his feet, bracing himself for the worst.

“It wasn’t very gentlemanly of you to walk off that way without me.”

He tried to read her expression. “My apologies.”

“Apology accepted.” She lifted her chin. “I just wanted to let you know that I ran into Adam on my way here and, since I haven’t heard back from my father, I asked him to walk me down the aisle Saturday. He agreed.”

Was that her way of telling him she intended to go through with the wedding? But did that mean she’d just taken the better of two unappealing options? “Adam is a good choice.”

“Glad you approve.” She smiled. “And for the record, though he is remarkably thickheaded and obtuse, I think my husband-to-be is also a good choice. Those things I said about him earlier still stand.”

And with that, she spun around and walked away.

* * *

Everett slowly sat back down. She was going through with it,
wanted
to go through with it. The flood of emotions surging into him almost made him dizzy. There had been no loathing, no rejection in her eyes when she looked at him. There had been anger, yes, but something else, too, something amazingly like affection.

How could that be? Deep down he knew he wasn’t a very likable person, even when one didn’t know his secrets. Yet she saw something good in him. What was it she had said about him?
A man who is perhaps too much of a stickler and takes himself too seriously but who has a good heart, is a loving brother, has a strong sense of what is right and honorable, and does his duty without question.

He wasn’t sure he really was that person, but suddenly he very much wanted to be.

* * *

Daisy’s wedding day dawned bright and clear. The sky was dotted here and there with wispy clouds that posed no danger of rain and only served to intensify the blue of the sky behind them.

Daisy stood at the back of the church with Adam and Reggie, waiting for her cue to walk down the aisle. This was it. In a few short moments, she would speak the vows that would tie her life irrevocably to Everett’s. It was a scary thought, but exciting, too.

At least she was properly attired for the occasion—Everett would have no reason to apologize for her appearance. She looked down at her skirt, gently touching the luxurious fabric, admiring the scalloped hem and lace trim.

The gown Hazel and Abigail had created for her was just about the finest she’d ever seen, much less worn. And that included gowns she’d seen in her grandmother’s drawing room and in Abigail’s catalogs.

Abigail had played the role of sister of the bride with relish. She insisted on arranging Daisy’s hair, piling it all up fancy with a few ringlets cascading down. And there was a coronet of flowers in her hair. The girl had also picked a bouquet of lovely wildflowers, along with roses from Reggie’s garden.

She felt like a princess. And an impostor.

Everything about today would be perfect, if only she was marrying someone who loved her. Was this truly the answer to her prayers? Or was it rather the penance she must pay for not listening to Everett’s concerns over their use of that door?

Everett had been so good about not making her feel he was angry or unhappy with the circumstances that had brought them to this. But she knew he had to feel some amount of frustration.

Would they be able to get past that?

Reggie was keeping an eye on the preacher, looking for the signal that it was time to start. Then, as if picking up on Daisy’s nervousness, she turned and gave her a smile. “You look mighty fine, fine enough to fit in in my grandfather’s parlor back in Philadelphia. Don’t you agree, Adam?”

“That, she would. In fact, I can only remember one bride who looked lovelier.” He winked at his wife, and Daisy was surprised to see a faint blush stain Reggie’s cheeks. Would she and Everett ever share those kind of special moments?

Reggie looked into the sanctuary again, then turned with a smile. “All right, they’re all set.”

Daisy’s heart stuttered, as if she’d been caught in the act of something improper. Adam tucked her arm under his elbow and smiled down at her. “Shall we?”

She pushed away the last minute wave of panic, and nodded.

Adam’s smile took on an understanding edge, and he patted her hand. “Deep breath. Smile. Eyes straight ahead. You’ll do fine.”

She smiled gratefully, lifted her head and signaled she was ready.

All heads turned to face her as she stepped into the aisle, but Daisy’s gaze sought and then locked onto Everett’s. She saw his eyes widen just a bit as he took in her appearance. His obvious approval gave her a little boost of confidence.

Then Adam gave her arm a squeeze, and they were moving forward. The walk down the aisle seemed both infinitely long and unbelievably short. Then Adam was releasing her and handing her off to Everett.

The cynicism that seemed a natural part of his expression appeared to be curiously absent now. Instead, it was replaced by something softer yet stronger at the same time. She responded with a shy smile.

When he took her hand, there was a moment of connection, of intense awareness, that almost made her jump. She could tell he felt it, too. Was it because of the occasion? Or something more?

His hold was warm, strong, possessive. But as before, there was protectiveness and tenderness, as well. She was suddenly filled with a sense of peace, of
rightness.
This was meant to be. Did Everett feel that, too?

Reverend Harper’s words broke the spell, and both Everett and Daisy faced forward. But she remained acutely conscious of the man at her side, and the warm comfort of his hand holding hers so protectively.

She stood through the entire ceremony as if watching it from a distance, as if it were happening to someone else. The only thing grounding her was the feel of his hand holding hers.

To her surprise, Everett had a ring to place on her finger at the appropriate time. As he slipped it on her finger, she stared down at it, a simple gold band with a small, square-cut, blue stone set on prongs. She was enchanted by just how perfect it was, how very right it looked on her finger.

She looked up and found Everett watching her, and for once there was no guarded quality in his expression. Just warm encouragement, and something more primitive that she didn’t quite understand but didn’t fear. And that was the very best wedding present he could have given her.

When the vows had been recited and Reverend Harper pronounced them man and wife, Everett bent down to give her a kiss. It was sweet and warm and altogether breathtaking. And over much too soon.

Then they were turning to face the congregation. The first person Daisy saw was Abigail, and she was surprised to see the girl had a tear trickling down her cheek, but her smile was beautifully joyful.

Then Everett was leading her down the aisle in firm, sure steps. And from every side, Daisy saw smiles of shared happiness and approval.

Had this marriage had the unexpected effect of giving her a firmer standing in the community?

She pushed that thought aside—that wasn’t the kind of thing one should contemplate about one’s marriage.

As they stepped out on the church steps, Daisy blinked a moment in the brightness of the sunshine. Then she blinked again in surprise. A flower-festooned motorized carriage was waiting for them, with Chance sitting in the driver’s seat.

Reggie had offered to hold a reception for them at her home after the wedding, and Daisy would have been fine with making the short trip there on foot. But such a thoughtful, romantic gesture from Everett caught her off guard, and her pulse quickened in pleasure at what he’d done. When she turned to thank him, though, it was obvious from his expression that he was as surprised as she was.

Before Daisy could say anything, Abigail rushed up and gave Daisy a hug. “We’re truly sisters now. I’m so happy.” Then she stepped back. “Do you like the conveyance? I thought you should be transported from the church in style.”

“It’s very thoughtful. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you, Abigail.” Everett turned to Daisy. “Shall we?”

The reception was set up in Reggie’s beautiful and expansive backyard. To Daisy’s surprise, there was a grand turnout. She and Everett greeted guests as they arrived until Daisy felt she must have shaken every hand in town.

* * *

As Everett circulated among the guests, his gaze kept drifting back to his wife. There was no trace of the peddler’s daughter in her today. This Daisy would fit in any society ballroom or parlor. It was partly the dress, of course. But it was more than that. There was a sort of natural grace to her, a genuine friendliness that shone through from within.

Perhaps fate had dealt him a winning hand, after all.

He was making his way to Daisy’s side to offer her a cup of punch when Reggie waylaid him. “I’m ready to photograph you and your bride. I’ll fetch Daisy if you’ll find your sister.” She pointed toward a large oak that shaded one side of her lawn. “I’ve got the camera set up over there.”

Everett finally tracked down Abigail. She and Constance were chatting with Jack, who was keeping an eye on Kip and Buck. By the time they reached Reggie, Daisy was already there.

Reggie had set up her camera so that the tree would serve as a backdrop for the picture. “Let’s get a photograph with just the bride and groom first,” she instructed. “If the two of you would stand right there.”