Page 65 of A Temporary Bride for the Duke

They drank in thoughtful silence for a while.

“Do you remember much about your mother?” Harry asked.

Daisy nodded. “I do. She was a beautiful woman. So full of life. She loved to laugh. Everything was enjoyable when she was around.”

Harry frowned. “I don’t remember anything about my mother.”

Daisy’s brow furrowed in sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that. Perhaps your father could tell you more about her.”

Harry nodded. “Maybe…”

She nudged his side, smiling when he looked up at her. “He will tell you. If you ask him nicely, he will tell you a memory of her.”

“He never has before,” Harry objected.

“Maybe he just doesn’t want to make you sad. Just ask him to tell you one way you’ve taken after her: that is always a good place to start. Even my father—” She trailed away, not wanting to offload her family troubles on the young boy. “What I mean to say is that I’m sure he’d probably be happy to tell you anything you might want to know.”

Harry jumped to his feet. “All right, then. Thank you, Lady Daisy!”

Daisy opened her mouth to say perhaps he ought to wait for a more appropriate time, but Harry had already marched off in a determined manner.

She only hoped that she had not spoken out of turn and guaranteed something that the Duke could not or would not provide.

Edmund was just finishing his glass of Madeira and debating whether it was worth the bother of venturing forth into civilization to get another when Harry appeared, sitting beside him.

“Where did you come from?” Edmund asked.

Harry gave him a strange look. “I was talking with Lady Daisy,” he said as if it should be obvious.

Edmund suppressed a smile. “And did you have a good conversation?”

Harry nodded seriously. “Yes. Lady Daisy is my friend, you know.”

Edmund had to stop himself from laughing, but also could not suppress a pang of guilt. Yes, Harry was fond of Daisy, but she had given no indication that she’d still come around once their arrangement was concluded.

What will we do when this game concludes, and Daisy no longer wants anything to do with us?

“Is that so?” he said quietly.

“Yes.”

Edmund nodded, swallowing his trepidation. “Your friendship is noted. Are you tired? Would you like to retire for the evening?”

“Not yet. I wanted to ask a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“What was my mother like?”

Edmund went still.

The question did not feel simple. It never did, not for him.

“Why are you asking?” he said.

“Because I am curious. Mr. Oswalt says when I am curious, I should ask questions.”

“Not about this,” Edmund said sharply.