61
" Cooing to the baby, Daisy entered the room. Lillian was resting against a stack of pillows, her eyes closed. She looked very small in the large bed, her hair braided in two plaits like a young girl’s. Westcliff was at her side, looking like he had just fought Waterloo singlehandedly.
The veterinarian was at the washstand, soaping his hands. He threw Daisy a friendly smile, and she grinned back at him. “Congratulations, Mr. Merritt,” she said. “It seems you’ve added a new species to your repertoire.”
Lillian stirred at the sound of her voice. “Daisy?”
Daisy approached with the baby in her arms. “Oh, Lillian, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her sister grinned sleepily. “I think so too. Would you—” she broke off to yawn. “Show her to Mother and Father?”
“Yes, of course. What is her name?”
“Merritt.”
“You’re naming her after the veterinarian?”
“He proved to be quite helpful,” Lillian replied. “And Westcliff said I could.”
The earl tucked the bedclothes more snugly around his wife’s body and kissed her forehead.
“Still no heir,” Lillian whispered to him, her grin lingering. “I suppose we’ll have to have another one.”
“No, we won’t,” Westcliff replied hoarsely. “I’m never going through this again. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Scandal in Spring (Wallflowers, #4)
67
" Give her a solid, practical name,' I told my wife when the child was born. Jane or Constance or something of the sort. Instead she chose Marguerite... French, mind you!... after a cousin on her maternal side. And then it degenerated further when Lillian, who was only four at the time, learned that Marguerite was the French word for a damned insignificant flower. But from then on Lillian called her Daisy, and it stuck..."
As Bowman continued to ramble, Matthew thought of how perfect the name was, the small white-petaled flower that appeared so delicate and yet was remarkably hardy. It said something that in a family of overpowering personalities that Daisy had always remained stubbornly true to her own nature. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Scandal in Spring (Wallflowers, #4)
73
" Are you sorry it happened?” Her fingers clenched as she waited tensely for his answer.
“Good Lord, no.” He brought her small fist to his mouth and kissed it open, and flattened her palm against the side of his face. “It’s what I’ve wanted most in my entire life. And the one thing I knew I could never have. I’m surprised. Shocked, even. But never sorry.”
Daisy turned and snuggled against him, sandwiching one of his thighs between her own.
The rain beat out a brisk song against the side of the house, some of it coming through the window. Considering the idea of getting out of bed, Daisy shivered a little, and felt Matthew draw the covers higher over her bare shoulder.
“Daisy,” he asked without heat, “where is the damn key?”
“I put it in your coat pocket,” she said helpfully. “Didn’t you see? No?…well, I suppose you were distracted at the time.” She trailed her hand over his chest, letting her palm graze the point of his nipple. “You’re probably angry with me for locking us in the bedroom.”
“Enraged,” he agreed. “I insist you do it every night after we’re married.”
“Are we going to get married?” Daisy whispered, raising her head.
His eyes were warm, but there was no hint of pleasure in his voice. “Yes, we’re going to marry. Although you’ll probably hate me for it someday.”
“Why in the world would I…oh.” Daisy remembered what he had told her about the likelihood of his past catching up to him someday. “I could never hate you,” she said. “And I’m not afraid of your secrets, Matthew. Whatever comes, I’ll face it with you. Although you should know I find it exasperating when you throw out comments like that and refuse to explain.”
There was a sudden catch of laughter in his chest. “That’s only one of many reasons you find me exasperating.”
“True.” She crawled on top of him and nuzzled his chest like an inquisitive kitten. “But I like exasperating men much more than the nice ones. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Scandal in Spring (Wallflowers, #4)
79
" Now as they made their way through the exuberantly crowded village, Daisy understood what Westcliff had meant. It was still early evening, and already it appeared that copiously flowing wine had loosened inhibitions. People were embracing, arguing, laughing and playing. Some were laying floral wreaths at the base of the oldest oak trees, or pouring wine at the roots, or…
“Good Lord,” Daisy said, her attention caught by a perplexing sight in the distance, “what are they doing to that poor tree?”
Matthew’s hands clasped her head and firmly aimed her face in another direction. “Don’t look.”
“Was it some form of tree-worship or—”
“Let’s go watch the rope-dancers,” he said with sudden enthusiasm, guiding her to the other side of the green. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Scandal in Spring (Wallflowers, #4)
80
" They walked slowly past fire-swallowers, conjurors and tumblers, pausing to purchase a skin of new wine. Daisy drank carefully from the wineskin, but a drop escaped from the corner of her lips. Matthew smiled and began to reach into his pocket for a handkerchief, then appeared to think better of it. Instead he ducked his head and kissed away the wine droplet.
“You’re supposed to be protecting me from impropriety,” she said with a grin, “and instead you’re leading me astray.”
The backs of his knuckles stroked gently against the side of her face. “I’d like to lead you astray,” he murmured. “In fact, I’d like to lead you straight into those woods and…” He seemed to lose his train of thought as he stared into her soft, dark eyes. “Daisy Bowman,” he whispered. “I wish—”
But she was never to find out what his wish was, because she was abruptly pushed into him as a crowd jostled past. Everyone was bent on obtaining a view of a pair of jugglers who had clubs and hoops spinning in the air between them. In the rush the wineskin was knocked from Daisy’s hands and trampled underfoot. Matthew put his arms around her protectively.
“I dropped the wine,” Daisy said regretfully.
“Just as well.” His mouth lowered to her ear, his lips brushing the delicate outer rim. “It might have gone to my head. And then you might have taken advantage of me.”
Daisy smiled and snuggled against his hard form, her senses delighting in the reassuring warmth of his embrace. “Are my designs on you that obvious?” she asked in a muffled voice.
He nuzzled into the soft space beneath her earlobe. “I’m afraid so. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Scandal in Spring (Wallflowers, #4)
