Page 55 of A Temporary Bride for the Duke

“But why turnip?” he asked.

She frowned. “When I visited your home, you told me that you and Harry liked to plant potatoes and turnips in the garden. Did I misremember?”

Edmund was confounded. She had recalled the exchange with alacrity and come up with the term and the memory without hesitation.

Turnip…Yes…That’s exactly the right word for us.

Before he could reply, Aunt Regina clapped her hands.

“Hush! I am not done. You can make a sound to call your partner to you, but it cannot be words. You cannot, for example, say, ‘I’m here.’ You can twit like a bird or roar like a lion, hum a tune or bark like a dog, but no words are permitted.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, but Daisy looked stricken.

“Well,” Edmund said, “there goes turnip.”

She groaned. “It was an excellent plan.”

Edmund felt the corner of his lip twitching in amusement before he suppressed it. “I am sure it was.”

“What are we supposed to do now?”

He glanced at her. “Perhaps we should abandon all hope.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Can you not imitate the sound of an animal?”

“Lady Daisy. I am a grown man. I will not hoot like an owl for a game.”

To his annoyance, he found himself enjoying her indignation.

“Very well,” she said. “I shall think of something.”

“I tremble in anticipation.”

She pointed a finger at him. “Mock me all you wish. When we win, you shall regret ever doubting my skills.”

For the first time that evening, Edmund felt relaxed.

Perhaps they could get through this after all.

Two weeks of Lady Archworth’s games had given Daisy quite an appreciation for the Dowager’s imagination. She was also quite pleasantly surprised at what a good sport the Duke could be.

As it turned out, they did not win the game of blind man’s bluff. Even though Daisy whistled as a morning dove might, Lord Dennison and Lady Mary Dodson ran straight into each other’s arms. There was simply no accounting for how they managed it, but the competition that day was over in a matter of seconds. While others whispered that somehow the couple had worked out a way to cheat, Daisy and Edmund made the most of the evening by sipping lemonade and promenading through the gardens. When the sunlight dipped below the horizon, Daisy gamely taught the Duke how to mimic the dove, and he obliged her by echoing the sound.

Since then, they had been summoned four more times to participate in one game or another that was hosted by Lady Archworth and had spent at least some portion of every other day in each other’s company. Sometimes, Harry joined them for tea or in the park. But on other days, Daisy and the Duke attended the theatre and danced with one another at a ball.

If anyone had asked her, Daisy would say that she felt comfortable standing beside the Duke. She had, over the course of the competition, come to rely upon him completely. He was a steady, solid presence in her life, and she was grateful to have him by her side.

But no one asked her. They didn’t need to bother.

My feelings are written all over my face.

Momentarily, Daisy felt as if she ought to be ashamed of enjoying herself so much in the Duke’s company, but then, shesent a sidelong glance in his direction, caught him beaming at her, and determined that it was best to relish this bit of luck while it lasted.

“Ladies!” Lady Archworth called as she stepped to the middle of the room. “Gentlemen!” She held up both hands to garner their attention. “Allow me to welcome you to my home…once again.”

The parlor where the game was to be played was emptied of all furniture aside from the myriads of bookshelves lining the wall and a circle of seats to be taken by couples who had finished the game. They would be handed a number according to how fast they managed to identify their partner.

“This game is quite similar to one we played before,” the Dowager announced as she drifted around the room, making eye contact with each participant. “You may recall that our little game of blind man’s bluff ended far too quickly for my liking…”