Scandal in Spring by Lisa Kleypas

downstairs. "She is undersized and frivolous. '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.
    "…obviously I would have to sugarcoat the deal," Thomas Bowman was saying. "I know you well enough to be certain that you would choose a very different sort of woman for yourself, one with more practical uses than a flighty slip of a girl like Daisy. Therefore— "
    "No sugarcoating would be necessary," Matthew interrupted calmly. "Daisy…that is, Miss Bowman, is entirely— " Beautiful. Desirable. Bewitching. "— acceptable. Marrying a woman like Miss Bowman would be a reward in itself."
    "Good," Bowman grunted, clearly unconvinced. "Very gentlemanly of you to say so. Still, I will offer you fair recompense in the form of a generous dowry, more shares in the company and so forth. You will be quite satisfied, I assure you. Now as to the wedding arrangements— "
    "I didn't say yes," Matthew interrupted.
    Bowman stopped pacing and sent him a questioning stare.
    "To start with," Matthew continued carefully, "it is possible Miss Bowman will find a suitor within the next two months."
    "She will find no suitors of your caliber," Bowman said smugly.
    Matthew replied gravely despite his amusement. "Thank you. But I don't believe Miss Bowman shares your high opinion."
    The older man made a dismissive gesture. "Bah. Women's minds are as changeable as English weather. You can persuade her to like you. Give her a posy of flowers, throw a few compliments in her direction…better yet, quote something from one of those blasted poetry books she reads. Seducing a woman is easily accomplished, Swift. All you have to do is— "
    "Mr. Bowman," Matthew interrupted with a sudden touch of alarm. God in heaven, all he needed was an explanation of courtship techniques from his employer. "I believe I could manage that without any advice. That's not the issue."
    "Then what… ah. " Bowman gave him a man-of-the-world smile. "I understand."
    "You understand what?" Matthew asked apprehensively.
    "Obviously you fear my reaction if you should decide later on that my daughter is not adequate to your needs. But as long as you behave with discretion, I won't say a word."
    Matthew sighed and rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling weary. This was a bit much to face so soon after his ship had landed in Bristol. "You're saying you'll look the other way if I stray from my wife," he said rather than asked.
    "We men face temptations. Sometimes we stray. It is the way of the world."
    "It's not my way," Matthew said flatly. "I stand by my word, both in business and in my personal life. If or when I promise to be faithful to a woman, I would be. No matter what."
    Bowman's heavy mustache twitched with amusement. "You're still young enough to afford scruples."
    "The old can't afford them?" Matthew asked with a touch of affectionate mockery.
    "Some scruples have a way of becoming overpriced. You'll discover that someday."
    "God, I hope not." Matthew sank into a chair and buried his head in his hands, his fingers tunneling through the heavy locks of his hair.
    After a long moment Bowman ventured, "Would it really be so terrible having Daisy for a wife? You'll have to marry sometime. And she comes with benefits. The company, for example. You will be given controlling interest in it upon my death."
    "You'll outlive us all,"