Page 16 of Miss Ellis Unleashed

Daisy had to learn to amuse herself again.

Her once-upon-a-time friend Justine still kept a distance. She had given up trying to mend fences with that girl, or trying to find out what was going on in her life.

Daisy hadn’t met anyone else she could call on or go visit without a prior invitation being issued, either. She so missed the way things had been at the start of the season, without even Throsby’s stomping about the house and perpetual bad moods to look forward to.

He had still not shown his face in society, but he was on her mind constantly. He had absented himself from every proper event for the last two months now, and she’d heard nary a whisper of what he was doing elsewhere.

She was near to the point of asking Abelton where he’d gone, and that was lowering.

Daisy snatched up another grape and rolled it between her fingers, growing angry with Throsby, and not for the first time. He had utterly lost his temper the last time they were together, and so had she, saying things they had both bottled up for years, it seemed.

Then he’d had the nerve to kiss her, and to her astonishment, it had been a rather unforgettable kiss, too.

That man had the gall to snatch victory away from her on the eve of her triumph—the night she’d evicted him from her life. Nothing had been the same since.

She’d never have thought Throsby had it in him to be so passionate until that last night in his company. Had he been anyone else, she might have immediately sought a repeat performance of the kiss.

But of course, Throsby never would come around.

She’d made it clear his company was unwanted, and she was beginning to regret that. She actually missed him!

Daisy pressed her fingers to her temple and rubbed. She must have gone mad some time ago and not realized it.

But Throsby was gone off to live whatever life he’d had before the guardianship had begun, and that was probably good for him. They had not grown closer throughout the years they were forced together. He’d kept to himself, and Daisy had minded her own business, too.

She’d always thought they were quite opposites in nature. Throsby had been as predictable as mud. Daisy had loved nothing more than to shock him every chance she could. It had been a game, her little rebellions. Though there had been no escape from the guardianship for either one of them.

Throsby seldom talked about himself or any sacrifices he’d made when the guardianship had begun, until that last night here. She’d been a silly angry child to never learn what he’d had to give up, to move in with her. Beyond refusing to invite his friends to dinner, he’d said nothing of note about other friends or family members. Not a whisper of scandal or misdeed about him had reached her ears, and of course, nothing had suggested he was the kind of man to steal kisses like that.

She burst to her feet, annoyed with herself for obsessing about what Throsby might be doing with his days and nights. She ought to be glad he was gone from her life. No one told her what to do anymore. There was no one scowling at any young men who flirted with her, either.

Throsby had been beastly, far worse than any of the fathers of other young ladies enjoying the season, and far more present at her side. He was not friendly to anyone, really, especially not her. Not until the last minute. When upset, she’d never cried on his shoulder or sought comfort from him, not that he’d offered any.

But he had protected her from those devilish fiends of society who many called gentlemen. Those unfeeling scoundrels were determined to seek pleasure with no thought of the consequences for a lady.

She drifted through the house, as she had done for weeks, and eventually found herself in her father’s old bedchamber upstairs…and the bed Throsby used to sleep in. The town house had been restored to its former configuration on her birthday, and the study was put to rights downstairs, too. But there was nothing of interest to her in either room, other than more reminders that Throsby had once been there.

She returned to her bedchamber and pulled the bell, sick of her preoccupation with Throsby. Her lady’s maid was prompt in appearing and eager to be of assistance.

“Sarah, I think I shall go out after all today,” she announced.

“To where, miss?” Sarah asked, rushing to the wardrobe and throwing the doors wide. Daisy had an impressive array of gowns now. She had her favorites, but any that Throsby had deemed appropriate were, of course, now barely worn.

“I don’t exactly know where I’ll go. Where would you go?”

The maid clucked her tongue. “You’ve got itchy feet again.”

She glanced down. “Do I?”

“You’re as restless as a cat lately.”

Daisy sighed. “I haven’t had a cat in a long time.”

“Lord Throsby was allergic,” the maid reminded her.

“Yes,” she answered, remembering the horrible state of her new guardian’s face and his endless sneezing when she’d once let a stray cat into the house without knowing he couldn’t bear the animals.

He hadn’t asked, but she’d quickly gotten rid of the creature for the sake of his health and improved mood, not that it had helped much. Thankfully, a neighbor had taken the animal, and Daisy had never dared visit it or let it into the town house, lest she make Throsby suffer so much again. “Perhaps I could get a cat now. There would be no danger to anyone.”