The result was unexpectedly intriguing. Penweather’s attire was that of a Mayfair gentleman, while his scent whispered of the tropics at midnight.
“My father was an amateur botanist,” Daisy said, making no move to leave Penweather’s side. “He corresponded with Herr von Humboldt, though not about this work.” The Naturgemälde from a distance looked to be a drawing of two mountains in cross section, or two volcanoes, given that a smoke plume drifted from the smaller peak. Closer examination revealed an exhaustive annotation of which plants grew at which altitudes.
“He was so precise,” Penweather muttered, moving the quizzing glass over the tiny writing in the mountain’s cross section. “So careful and exact.”
An errant thought popped into Daisy’s head: Would Penweather be a careful lover? Precise and exact? Or would he stride into her sitting room, lock the door, and rub his hands together, telling her they had time to have a go before luncheon.
Another go. That particular announcement sat at the top of the list of things Daisy did not miss about her husband.
“I will leave you to the pleasures of science,” Daisy said. “I need to have a word with my brother before he can elude me again.”
Penweather moved his quizzing glass to study a spot higher up on the larger mountain. “My aunt eludes me most determinedly when the subject is finances.”
“Precisely,” Daisy said, striding to the hearth and taking up the fireplace poker. “Grey acts as if I’m sixteen and awaiting my first lecture regarding pin money. He forgets that my mother was a spendthrift, and most of my girlhood was spent observing her bad example. I have run my household responsibly these past eight years, and I’m quite capable of managing my portion now that I’m widowed.”
She tossed a square of peat on the flames and jabbed it closer to the back of the andirons, not as horrified by her disclosures as she ought to have been.
Penweather had straightened and put aside his quizzing glass. His expression had been the same when she’d presumed to repair his queue, somewhere between leery and intrigued.
“I’m sorry,” Daisy said. “I ought not speak of such matters before a relative stranger. I’ll leave you in peace to enjoy the volcanoes, my lord.”
“Your own brother, the head of your family, is being unforthcoming about your finances at a time when security is uppermost in your mind. Do you fear he has squandered your funds?”
Daisy set the poker aside. “Grey is honorable. He would never help himself to my portion, which is why his reluctance to discuss the situation is worrisome. My money is doubtless invested with guidance from my sister’s husband, and Worth Kettering can make money like rabbits make baby rabbits.”
Penweather passed her a handkerchief with a coat of arms embroidered in the corner. “Would you like me to join you in this discussion?”
“Join me?”
Penweather laced his hands behind his back, giving him a professorial air. “You are a widow, feme sole, to use the technical term, no longer merged into the legal person of your husband. I see no solicitors underfoot to speak for you or hold Casriel accountable for his laggard behaviors. You have a plethora of brothers, one of them the magistrate, and those good fellows haven’t inspired the earl to answer your questions.
“People refer to widows as flighty,” he went on, “nervous, querulous, and worse, but if those same people would simply deal with the lady forthrightly and allow her to order her own affairs, she would have far fewer worries and frustrations to go with her mourning.”
Daisy ceased rubbing at her fingers with his handkerchief.
“You are looking at me as if I’m spouting treason,” he went on. “I’m not suggesting anybody call Casriel out. Nonetheless, your husband has been gone for several months, and you are entitled to have your answers. No matter who the guardian of your children might be, you are their mother. At their ages, they look to you for their security.”
I adore this man. Penweather lacked charm, his looks were too severe, and he apparently had no clue how to go on with his own daughter, but he was easy to respect, and that mattered.
“I am relieved that somebody sees matters from my viewpoint,” Daisy said, passing him back his handkerchief.
“Keep it. A token of thanks for bringing Chloe to call. Must I thrash your brother, verbally or otherwise?”
Penweather would do it too. March into Grey’s study, deliver a thorough scold, and ensure Daisy knew to the penny what funds she had to deal with.
“I appreciate the offer more than you know,” she said, tucking the handkerchief into her pocket, “but thrashing will not be necessary. My brothers defer to Grey because he is the head of the family and has much on his mind, but I know how to be frank when the moment warrants plain speaking.”
“I would put money on your powers of blunt speech, my lady. Begin your widowhood as you intend to go on. Sort out the earl and any in-laws who need sorting, be as firm and consistent as I’m sure you are with your children, and the rest of your mourning will pass more easily.”
Daisy was not as firm and consistent with her children as Eric had wanted her to be, but then, he’d tried to put her into the role of disciplinarian so he might be the exclusively jolly parent. When Daisy had pointed that pattern out to him, he’d been all surprise and chagrin.
“I’m off to sort out the earl,” she said. “I will collect Chloe when that interview is concluded.”
Penweather sent a disapproving glance toward the window. “Shall I walk you home again? The snow has stopped at the moment, but I do not trust your weather here in Dorset. That sky looks determined to deliver us more bad news.”
Daisy put a name on the quality Penweather exhibited that made him so attractive: He was unashamedly protective without being in the least overbearing.
“Your escort won’t be needed, my lord. Chloe will want to tarry at every paddock and otherwise dawdle. You might consider inviting Pandora for a walk in the fresh air.”
He took off his glasses and held them up to the meager light of the window, then polished them on his sleeve. “Might I also consider bringing Pandora to call on Chloe later this week, if the weather obliges? I would not want to intrude on a house of mourning, but I believe you’ve reached the point where condolence calls are expected.”
In the pit of Daisy’s belly, where the worst grief lurked, where she stored her uneasiness regarding Eric’s estate, and where she admitted to misgivings about life as a widow, a hint of warmth unfurled.
“I would be happy to welcome both you and Pandora to my home, my lord, and Chloe would be in transports.” She balanced herself with a hand on his chest and kissed his cheek, then sought the door before she gave in to the temptation to hug him.
Hug him again. A man protected only that which he valued. Daisy had forgotten that truth. She would not let it slip from her awareness again.
When she opened the door, intent on bearding Grey in his lair, she instead beheld her brother in the corridor.
“Beatitude is asking for you, Daisy. I’ll send a groom for Hannah Weller, but I’d appreciate it if you’d stay too. You were a great help last time, and Hannah is getting on.”
Hannah Weller was the midwife, as venerable as she was dear. “Of course I’ll stay. Your job is to remain calm, Grey, and for all you know, the pangs will cease, and this is a false alarm to be repeated at intervals for the next month.”