Rules for Reforming a Rake by Meara Platt Page B

her entire body felt numb. “Poor Eloise. She never mentioned a word about his mistress. Of course, she must be deeply ashamed of his behavior.”
    “I suppose she wouldn’t have mentioned it to you, dear,” her mother said, her manner once more gentle and her gaze pitying. “You’re an innocent. And it’s not as if you needed the warning. He isn’t likely to take serious notice of you.”
    “I suppose not.” Although Eloise had other plans, but that had been earlier in the evening, before the gossip about him and his new mistress had spread throughout the ballroom. Surely Eloise had thrown up her hands in disgust and given up on making a match between her and Gabriel by now.
    “You’re lovely, darling,” her mother continued, her pity intensifying. “But you’re not the worldly sort. No, not his sort at all. Though I do wonder why he asked you to dance.”
    “Eloise must have begged him for the favor,” she responded, the numbness now firmly lodged in her heart.
    “I suspected as much. He danced two waltzes with Lady Olivia Westhaven. Now, she’s more his type. A merry widow, that one. Just twenty-two and already outlived two husbands.”
    “They did make a striking couple,” Julia mused. “And if he were ever to change his mind about marriage, she’s just the sort he’d want as his wife. She wouldn’t care if he carried on with every woman in London. That would leave her free to take on her own lovers.”
    “Excuse me, Mother. Julia. I think I’m going to be ill.”
    ***
    Daisy spent the next hour alone in her bedroom, pretending her pillow was Gabriel Dayne’s head and ripping it apart. She resolved to write herself little notes that read “Warning—do not ever use the word ‘yes’ when in the presence of Lord Gabriel Dayne.”
    “Oh, this can’t be good,” Dillie remarked, stepping in and quickly closing the door behind her. “Mother will have a fit when she sees what you’ve done to this room.”
    Daisy followed her sister’s gaze to the little white feathers littering the floor and her peach satin bedcovers. Several more feathers had floated onto the fruitwood bureau and a few were caught in the lace curtains. She glanced into the mirror and brushed off the ones trapped in her hair. “Why is life so complicated?” she cried, collapsing onto her bed.
    “Ugh! You’re becoming as theatrical as Julia.”
    “Oh, Dillie! I’ve had a terrible day and it couldn’t possibly get worse.”
    “Would you care to wager on it? Mother sent me up here to retrieve the necklace. You know, the one you almost lost last night.”
    Daisy poked her head toward the door to make certain it was closed. “Hush! Only you and Lily know about that.”
    “And so will Mother when you don’t come up with it. She wants Julia to wear it tonight to Lord Malinor’s dinner party.”
    “Why wouldn’t I... oh, duck feathers!” She slapped a hand to her forehead. “Lord Dayne still has it. Dillie, what am I to do?”
    Her sister shrugged. “I don’t know, but you have less than four hours to track him down and get it back.”
    Daisy rose from the bed and scampered to the bureau. “There’s plenty of time to set matters right. I’ll have Pruitt send someone around to his townhouse. Just give me a moment to write a note.”
    “Pruitt doesn’t have a man to spare.”
    She paused in the middle of pulling open the drawer where she kept her writing materials. “Surely, someone must be available.”
    Dillie shook her head sadly. “No one on the staff is free. I’ve already asked, discreetly, of course. Mother has everyone running about madly preparing for the arrival of more relatives.”
    “Just what we need, more Farthingales.” Daisy let out a sigh and began to nibble her lower lip as she considered her alternatives. “We can’t ask any of the adults. They wouldn’t understand about my losing the necklace in the first place. And the children are too young. That leaves me, but I can’t go alone. It