Page 14 of If a Lady Lingers

But he didn’t need encouragement. He snapped his fingers with a grimace. “If only I’d remembered to buy us a pint a milk!”

She bit her lip and tried to ignore him, but curiosity got the better of her. “Why?”

He answered deadpan, “Because then we’d have quackers and milk.”

She froze, except for her mouth, which twisted into a pained expression. Then she tossed another handful of bread crumbs into the water.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“No need to thank me.” He popped a piece of bread into his mouth. “I love to tell bad jokes.”

“I meant for paying my brothers’ tuition. When you first told me what you’d done, I was embarrassed.” She admitted, “There was no accounting error.”

He’d never thought there was. “Ah.”

“But I understand why you did it, and I’m grateful that you thought of us. Truly.” She didn’t look at him, her attention glued to the swimming ducks paddling in front of her. “But you really shouldn’t have.”

“It was no bother at all. Besides, I like to help my friends.” When she tossed away the last of her bread, he handed her his half of the loaf. “And you and I are friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes.” She smiled at him as she accepted the bread. “We are.”

What Whitby wanted to be with her was far more than friends, but he’d settle for that. For now. “Then come with me to the Gatewell School so you can meet the boys your father’s building the house for. I’d love to show you the school and all the work we’ve done there, introduce you to the children, let you meet Mrs. Hughes and Mariah and her little daughter Genevieve.” He puffed out his chest with pride. “I’m her honorary godfather, you know.”

A thoughtful look pulled at her brows. “Itwouldbe nice to ask the boys what they think of our plans, to find out what they think the rooms should be like.”

“Not a work visit, Daisy, but just to see the school and have fun meeting everyone. What do you think?”

“I think that would be lovely.” She tossed out the last of the bread to the circling ducks. “But I’d still like to ask the children about their ideas for the house, if you don’t mind. It would be the perfect opportunity.”

He smiled at her. That was his Daisy, all right. Always with plans and designs whirling through her head.

They fell silent as they stood side-by-side and spent several moments just watching the ducks continue to circle in hopes that more bread might magically appear. The shouts and cries of children playing nearby drifted across the lawn to them, and the warm, afternoon breeze tickled faintly over their skin. The afternoon was perfect.

Slowly, Whitby moved his hand at his side, just far enough to touch hers as it rested against her skirt, and lightly caressed the back of her hand.

She trembled but didn’t pull away. Happiness squeezed his chest.

“So what do you think, Daisy Daring?” As he looked down at her, her face shone with a vibrant intensity that made him nearly breathless. “Wasn’t this a grand day out?”

“Yes.” Her fingers moved to brush against his and return the caress. “It certainly was.”

“Excellent.” Knowing not to venture too far all at once, he let go of her fingers and clapped his hands. “Then we’ll do it again tomorrow.” He nodded at her. “See you in the morning.”

Before she could stop him, he leaned over to give her an impetuous but innocent kiss, catching her completely off guard and surprising her speechless. Just a touch of lips to lips, barely a kiss at all—yet his heart sang with joy, and his soul soared.

He sauntered away with a bounce in his step. Deuces, he could have skipped! He didn’t have to glance over his shoulder to know that she was staring after him, her eyes wide in disbelief and her hand lifted to her lips. But despite her shock, he was certain that he was making grand progress in his unofficial and completely unknown-to-her courtship. He grinned broadly to himself. After all…

“She didn’t slap me,” he murmured happily.

3

Month Three

Daisy held up the large sheets of paper in her hands and turned slowly in a circle to take in the construction site around her. Her eyes moved constantly between the plans and the work completed so far. She wanted to jump with pride. “Isn’t it simply marvelous?”

Swift progress had been made on the house in the short time that the men had been building it. The basements had all been dug, the sub-cellars all done to exacting specifications, including the lead and wooden pipes for the new plumbing system she’d designed throughout the property. The gas pipes had also been laid from the bottom up, and she could see the end of one now from where she stood, jutting out from the half-finished second-floor wall of a future bedroom. The exterior stone walls had been erected, along with the frames for the interior walls and floors, and only the last finishing touches needed to be made before work shifted from the outside structure to the inside.

As she turned in her circle, she saw all of the house’s promise. Her mind leapt ahead to days of sunlight falling through tall windows onto plasterwork ceilings and papered walls. It would illuminate marble fireplaces and columns, large archways to allow people to come and go happily through the house, lovely wall paintings of vines and flowers so that summer would be present even during the bitterest winters—