EPISODE NINETY TWO THE JESTERS’ CORNER

EPISODE NINETY TWO

THE JESTERS CORNER

March 2, 1817

T HE D UCHESS OF T RENT S BALL

T HE OPENING EVENT OF THE 1817 S EASON

N aturally, having made up his mind to spend the Season looking for a wife, Miles no sooner entered the Trent ballroom than he caught sight of a lady who was manifestly ineligible for that honor.

With ten months further acquaintance with Daisy Wharton, he was no longer surprised by the fact she had attended the Rothingale masquerade. Although he had dragged her out of that house, she had spent her time since merrily engaging in impudent mischief, such as smuggling a file to her uncle in the Tower of London.

Admittedly, she had been instrumental in proving that same uncle s innocence of the charge of treason.

As for the charge of murder? No one could clear Tyron s name from that accusation, even though his solicitor had done an excellent job of painting Jeremy Tulip as a ne er-do-well, while prosing on about Sir Tyron s medal for bravery in the French wars.

And now, of course, Daisy Wharton had returned to polite society. She was standing beside her mother, the swirl of hair atop her head precariously held in place by diamond-clad butterflies. Her gown covered her like a shroud, but even so she was exquisite.

With a start, he looked away, surveying a ballroom full of ladies with pale lips and orderly hair.

Daisy was far too young and foolish to consider as a wife. Perhaps she wasn t overly young, but foolish? In the extreme. Impulsive and reckless. She courted scandal: just look at the way she and her cousin used to gallop at top speed through Hyde Park, something no proper lady would do.

In fact, now that he thought of it, Daisy might still be galloping in the park, even though her cousin had married and moved abroad. He should impress upon her the undesirability of that behavior.

It took him two hours to make his way to her side, thanks to his sister Clementine having spread the news that he intended to find a wife. One young woman actually stabbed him with her fan to gain his attention.

When Miles finally reached Daisy, she had just finished dancing with the future Earl Paget. Frederick wasn t entirely drunk, nor entirely sober.

About the same as always, in other words.

Miles bowed. Good evening, Miss Wharton. Lord FitzRoy-Paget.

Daisy s face stilled, and her smile fell away as she curtsied. Lord Devin. How do you do?

Evening, Devin, Frederick said, more genially. How s the pursuit of murderers serving you these days?

I don t pursue murderers, Miles replied. I investigate criminal charges when Earl Paget-your father-requests my assistance. Miss Wharton, it is a pleasure.

We could help you, Frederick offered. As we did last time, deciphering those coded letters. Daisy and I made an excellent pair of investigators, don t you think? If we hadn t been born to the wrong families, we could have become Bow Street Runners.

Daisy s eyes began dancing. You could have become a Runner, she pointed out. I was born to the wrong gender.

I have no need for assistance, Miles told them.

I doubt that, Frederick drawled. You were sending people all over France looking for that traitor, remember? Any fool could have told you that the man had to be a Londoner.

Actually, Frederick, Daisy said, I made that point, and I do not consider myself a fool.

Miles had the distinct feeling that she considered him to be the fool in question. Miss Wharton, may I have the honor of a dance? he asked, rather coldly.

Daisy flipped open her fan and looked at its bare spines as if she were hoping a few signatures had miraculously appeared. As you can see, you may have whichever dance you choose, she responded, without visible enthusiasm.

I ll take you in for supper, Frederick promised. Daisy isn t enjoying the same popularity as last Season, he told Miles. I suspect the murderous uncle has put them off. Likely the young fools are afraid that she ll put arsenic in their tea if they put a step wrong.

Daisy snapped her fan shut and tapped her lips, drawing attention to her mouth. Her lips were the deep ruby of port wine, but Miles could have sworn that she wore no lip color. Her eyelashes were darker than her hair, though she hadn t turned them sooty with coal; they fringed her blue eyes like-

He tore his mind out of an absurd riot of similes. He didn t care about the color of her eyes.

A woman should plan for her future, Daisy said. What missteps should I consider worthy of arsenic? After all, my uncle has set a standard for criminality that might be hard to match.

Adultery, Frederick said promptly.

Perhaps Lord Fitzroy-Paget thought she would turn pink at the word, or hide behind her fan, or giggle madly. Miles knew better.

Adultery is so common that avenging it might be taken amiss, Daisy retorted, not flicking an eyelash. Like killing a husband because he slurps his tea, which frankly, might actually tempt me to homicide.

Frederick burst out laughing, but Miles just raised an eyebrow. The man who d stray from Miss Daisy Wharton s bed? He didn t exist.

Oh dear, I ve shocked you, Daisy said to Miles. She flicked open her fan and hid behind it. Give me a minute

When she dropped her fan, her whole face had changed. Her eyes were now soft and bewildered, her lower lip trembling. I protest and vow, Lord FitzRoy-Paget, that you have shocked me to the bone. Tis a horrendous shock to hear such a nasty word spoken in my presence. I must beg you to have more care for my innocence.

Impressive, Miles said, unable to hold back a smile.

Yes, especially because a young lady would have to know the meaning of adultery in order to be offended, Daisy pointed out. Ignorance and innocence are not always synonymous.

Moving on, Frederick said. Let s pretend you transform yourself into an avenging angel for the chaste wives of London, Daisy. If you poisoned every faithless man in this city, there d scarcely be an intact marriage left.

So I have assumed, Frederick. So I have assumed. Daisy flicked a glance at Miles from under her lush eyelashes, her expression suggesting that she had not forgotten Miles s appearance at the Rothingale masquerade.

Miles used to think her a nitwit, but after she helped crack the code of a traitor s letters, he d come to the conclusion that she was one of the most intelligent women he knew.

Albeit mischievous, impulsive, and prone to telling falsehoods.

Personally, I believe that murder is worse than adultery, Frederick said thoughtfully. It is unfortunate that society will forgive the first, but not the second. Your uncle is a case in point. I shouldn t have been shocked when the House of Lords acquitted him, but I was. He took a swig of whiskey.

Stop drinking, Daisy said, poking him in the side. I promised Livie that I d do my part to rehabilitate your reputation and your liver.

Daisy plans to shove me on the market if she doesn t marry me herself, Frederick told Miles.

You ve set yourself a challenge, Miss Wharton, Miles remarked.

That s an insult Pistols at dawn! Frederick shouted giddily, collecting glances from a good half of the ballroom-who instantly looked away when they saw who had bellowed, their mouths screwed up with disapproval.

Somewhat surprisingly, Miles discovered he was scowling back at them. Frederick might not be a perfect gentleman-obviously he drank too much-but he was far cleverer than most in the room.

Further, there was something wounded behind his mocking eyes. He was an impudent, careless jester, but more interesting than most of the pompous lords Miles dealt with in the House, many of whom had readily excused Sir Tyron for throwing a boy to the sharks.

Daisy was smiling at Frederick as if she

People might misinterpret their friendship based on her expression. He d seen it happen; his friend Jonah had been obligated to marry after he was compromised.

No, that wasn t true. Jonah married because he was desperately in love with Bea. Daisy couldn t possibly feel that for Frederick.

I know you formed a friendship during the last year, but you shouldn t address each other by your given names in public, he said before he thought better. It might be misunderstood.

Frederick elbowed Daisy. Lord Devin is worried for your reputation. Isn t that sweet of him? Don t worry. I ll marry you no matter how scandalous you become. I intend to limit my prospects to wallflowers anyway, so my spouse and I can huddle together and gossip.

You plan to form a jester s corner with your wife? Miles asked. Oddly, it sounded rather fun. More enjoyable than pacing around the dance floor discussing the habitats of snowy owls, as he had done earlier in the evening when Miss Appleton treated him to a lecture.

What s a jester s corner? Daisy asked.

You do know that British kings had official jesters?

She nodded.

When a jester wasn t actively mocking the crown, he retreated to the corner of the throne room and mocked society at large, Miles explained.

That would suit me, Frederick said. I need to find a wife who doesn t mind wearing a cap with bells. Perhaps if I adorned the cap with diamonds I could entice someone to my corner. Daisy?

Even given that suitors are thin on the ground, I have to refuse your proposal, she said. A jester s hat would never fit over my hair.

You do seem to have an outsized pile on your head, Frederick commented. I ll introduce you to a few of my pals. You ll have more tipsy men at your feet than you can count.

Miss Wharton doesn t wish to marry an inebriate, Miles growled.

I don t have any particular dislike of drunks, Daisy said. One wants one s husband to be occupied, and cheroots have such a terrible odor. Drinking is better than smoking.

I already have an occupation as court jester, Frederick pointed out.

I suppose old maid will be mine, Daisy said cheerfully.

She was the farthest thing from an old maid that Miles had ever seen. If she didn t have suitors, it was because they hadn t yet met her. Heard her laughter. Seen her laughing.

Even her chortle was sensual. When her lips curled, when she teased, he felt it in every part of his body-some places more than others.

A gentleman didn t marry a woman he wanted to throw up against a wall. You d have to be mad to court a woman who joked about adultery, who was obviously brimming with passion.

Both of my suitors are kindness personified, Daisy said, smiling at the two of them.

Before he caught himself, Miles choked. True, he had stood talking to her for longer than he had any other woman, but

Daisy burst into a throaty laugh. I misspoke! I gather, Lord Devin, that you re no suitor of mine.

Frederick squinted at him. Revealed your terror, did you? Not very flattering, old chap. You have to learn to disguise your expressions. You looked ready to expire from boredom while dancing with Miss Appleton. You ll never find a wife that way.

Miles cleared his throat. I would be honored to marry Miss Wharton. Of course.

Thankfully, Daisy showed no signs of being insulted. It was a reasonable assumption on my part-you did ask me to dance-but not to worry. I shan t hold you to it.

Every man who asks you to dance is not a suitor, Frederick pointed out. The royal dukes, for example. Certain to ask, given your bosom, but unavailable for marriage.

Daisy patted Miles on the arm. Only desperate women like me engage in such sad arithmetic. You are free to court where you will.

Horrifyingly, that light touch sent a stunning feeling down his arm, like a burn. Burns are bad , he informed his unruly body, which seemed determined to move closer to the fire.

You do have two suitors, since you also have Jeremiah Hemlock at your beck and call, Frederick said. Do you know him, Devin?

I vaguely remember the name but no, Miles said. Of course he wasn t wooing Daisy. On the other hand, he didn t like thinking of other men doing so, and he d be damned if she married Frederick.

One of the Arch Rogues, so-called. Supposedly, he s pledged to find a wife in order to win a bet, an unwholesome reason. Plus he has a reputation as a ne er-do-well. No dancing or following him into the shrubbery, Frederick said to Daisy, sounding like a hectoring older brother.

I can t afford to refuse to dance with one of the few men who s requested my hand, Daisy said, sounding like an irritated little sister.

Of course, Miles could introduce her to eligible gentlemen.

But for some reason he didn t want to.