Page 79 of A Temporary Bride for the Duke

She could not make herself stop. She tried to imagine her future and what it might look like.

She visualized herself living in a small village, married perhaps to the vicar, surrounded by children. It was a good vision…except the vicar bore an uncanny resemblance to Edmund.

She shook her head, knowing that regardless of everything, she would have to leave London. If she didn’t, her father would continue to drag her down with him, and she’d find herself right back here, with a man holding her father’s debts over her head, in an effort to extort her into granting him favors.

“I have to win, and then I have to leave,” she said wetly to her damp handkerchief. “Once my father’s debts to Dulforth are paid, I am leaving.”

She thought about crossing the channel and going to France. With the money she would get, she could live anonymously. Perhaps open a flower shop or a haberdashery. Nobody would care who she was, and she could just…live.

Hopefully, someday, she would forget Edmund altogether.

Daisy arrived early at the venue for the last task, dressed in a simple muslin dress that Amina had made for her from the bolts of cloth that Edmund bought her. While it was simple, it did emphasize her virtues such as they were. The leaf-green color complemented her blonde hair and green eyes. The bodice maximized the swell of her breasts, and the long sweep of the skirt gave her an elegant silhouette and made her seem taller than she was.

Her father had assured her he would be present to cheer her on, but he had been nursing the after-effects of a late dissolute night when she left the house, so she highly doubted it.

The other contestants arrived one by one, and Edmund was one of the last to appear. He stood in the vicinity of her but not close enough for conversation.

She flicked a wistful glance his way.

Just once, I’d like it if you didn’t pull away from me.

Lady Archworth got on a dais to make a send-off address. She was resplendent in a gown that was made of shimmery sapphire-hued fabric.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she called. The crowd buzzed with excitement. Daisy took one step closer to where Edmund stood, then stopped herself.

Not yet. I shall not rush to his side just yet.

“We have finally come to the last task,” Lady Archworth continued. “While there can only be one official winning team, I hope you all have come to better appreciate your partners and the ways that you work together to achieve your aims. May those skills serve you well as you embark on your married life.” She paused to beam at everyone.

Daisy looked around her to see the reception to Lady Archworth’s words. Some couples were smiling at each other while others looked resentful. Clearly, not everyone had seen the benefits Lady Archworth was offering in the same way.

“For today’s task,” the Dowager Marchioness continued, “You will work your way through this maze.” She indicated the two-foot-long row of hedges in front of them. “And whoever gets to the middle first claims the prize. The contestants will enter the maze in pairs, depending on how many points they’ve garnered in the previous tasks. So the leading couple will go first and so on.”

There was a murmur that spread fast throughout the couples as each person tried to ascertain their standing.

But the Dowager did not keep the company in suspense for long. She reached into a concealed pocket in her skirt and pulled forth a scroll. Unfurling it with a flourish, she began to read aloud. She began by noting those who had scored the fewest points.

Daisy listened intently, hoping to hear her name and Edmund’s last.

“Lord Charles and Dennison and his partner, Lady Mary Dodson!” The Dowager paused, then proceeded, “Lord Arthur Bailey and Lady Jane Westfield.”

That couple let out a resounding whoop as they stepped closer to one another and shared a conspiratorial smile.

Lady Archworth continued reading, rattling off names rapidly. “Lord Brimsley Ross and Miss Sherry Pitt!”

By the time she reached the end of her list, Daisy had intertwined her gloved fingers and was twisting them back and forth anxiously.

“And finally, we come to our lead couple.” Lady Archworth paused and cast a long glance around the congregation. She allowed the scroll to roll inward on itself, then raised the parchment high in the air. “It is my pleasure to wave off the first couple.”

The tension in the atmosphere swelled. Daisy knew only her name, and Edmund’s remained, but she also understood that as soon as the Dowager Marchioness pronounced them as the leaders, they would be expected to dart toward the maze and begin the hunt.

She inhaled deeply, then turned her gaze upon Edmund. It was not at all surprising to find him already staring directly back at her.

Here…we…go…

“Edmund Foster, the Duke of Blackvale, and Lady Daisy Murray…begin the game!”

There was some lackluster clapping from the other contestants as Daisy and Edmund stepped hurriedly forward, making their way to the entrance of the maze.