Chapter Eleven
Fifteen days before the wedding . . .
“Good morning, Clement.?? Delilah sailed into the breakfast room.
“Good morning, Lady Hargate,” the butler said. “Coffee?”
“You know me so well.” She grinned at the older man. Clement had been with their family since she was a child. She suspected it wouldn’t be long now before he handed in his notice and gave up the life of loyal family retainer to spend the rest of his days living with a relative, a niece if she was correct, in Wales or somewhere thereabouts. And while last night the acknowledgment that she was back where she had begun had been disheartening, this morning it was wonderful to be home at Millworth where she had always belonged.
“Good morning, Teddy.”
Her friend sat at the table, perusing papers spread out before her, the pen in her hand hovering over her notebook. She glanced up briefly then returned her attention to her work. “Good morning.”
“Beautiful day, don’t you think?”
“Very nice,” Teddy said absently.
It was a brilliant autumn day. The sun was shining. Sam had agreed to absent himself from the manor. Delilah was going into London to see her solicitor, who might actually have good news for her, and possibly contact an investigator Camille had insisted she hire at Camille’s expense. To borrow from Mr. Browning, God was in His heaven and all was right with the world. Although, admittedly, God might look askance at her much-improved demeanor given its source was sin.
Teddy glanced up. “You are certainly in a better mood today.”
“I couldn’t be out of sorts forever.” Delilah cast her friend her brightest smile and moved to the sideboard. Mrs. Dooley had outdone herself this morning and laid out a virtual feast. But then didn’t the dear woman outdo herself nearly every day? And never was it appreciated as much as today.
“One could only hope,” Teddy murmured and returned her attention to the work in front of her.
Delilah laughed. It was nothing short of amazing what a good night’s sleep would do for one’s appetite. Delilah was famished. She’d slept shockingly well after leaving Sam’s room. Indeed, she’d slept better than she had since Sam had arrived at Millworth. No, upon reflection she’d slept better than she had since she’d returned from New York months ago. Why, this was the best sleep she’d had in longer than she could remember.
She selected sausage, a coddled egg, kippers, and debated over a slice of a tasty looking pheasant pie. Possibly later.
Astonishing how indulging in a bit of unanticipated sin brightened one’s outlook on life. She felt like a completely new woman. Perhaps when one threw caution to the winds once, one couldn’t rest until one did so again. As if, only in doing so, would the adventure truly be put in the past. Now, it need never happen again.
It was as though she had had been reborn. Fresh and new and unsullied. New York no longer hung over her head like a dark cloud. No, that wasn’t it exactly. She put a slice of bacon on her plate then took a second. Her ebullient mood was more akin to how, when one has been allowed to sample something delightful, like chocolate, but hasn’t been completely satisfied, the desire for more chocolate will grow and grow until one simply has to have chocolate. It’s inevitable really. Once one has had one’s fill, why, one can then easily ignore chocolate.
She took a piece of the pie and joined Teddy at the table.
“I see your appetite has returned.” Teddy jotted something in the notebook.
“My appetite never left.” Delilah accepted her coffee from Clement, topped it with cream, and dropped a few cubes of sugar in her cup. Phillip had drunk coffee and she’d picked up the habit from him.
“You weren’t hungry last night,” Teddy said mildly.
“I was very tired last night.” Delilah selected a piece of toast from the rack on the table and slathered on marmalade. “But today I am ravenous.” She took a bite and savored the sweet tart orange flavor of the spread. “Where is everyone?”
“I’m not sure where Camille is. Clement said Grayson and Sam are at the carriage house with Mr. Moore.”
Delilah started on her egg. “Ah, little boys and their toys.”
Teddy glanced up and frowned. “You’re being surprisingly pleasant today.”
“Nonsense,” she said between bites. “I am pleasant every day.”
“You haven’t been the least bit pleasant since Sam arrived.”
“I’ve been preoccupied.” She dabbed at her mouth with a serviette and took a sip of coffee. “With my dire financial future.”
Teddy’s eyes narrowed.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She glanced down. “Have I spilled something?”
“No.”
“Then—”
“Because I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t know why not.” Delilah picked up her bacon. “The threat of my dire financial future occupies very nearly my every waking thought.” She took a bite. “Excellent bacon, by the way.”
“Nonetheless, there’s something decidedly different about you today.”
“Beyond the fact that I am being pleasant?” Delilah took another large bite of toast. Really, she couldn’t remember the last time she had been quite this hungry. “Goodness, I would think you would be grateful.”
“I am but . . .” Teddy studied her closely. “You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”
“What on earth would I be hiding?”
“I don’t know. But you are.”
“Nonsense.” Delilah sampled the sausage and resisted the urge to moan with pleasure. “Have you tried the sausage? It’s very good. Perhaps the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“I had some earlier.”
“I wish you would stop looking at me as if I were an insect under glass.”
“And I wish you would tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“I am simply optimistic, that’s all.” Which really was more or less true. “It’s a perfect day and I am confident all will turn out . . . perfectly.” She smiled and sipped her coffee.
“That in itself is suspect.”
“What?”
“Your optimism,” Teddy said and returned to her work.
Delilah laughed and dipped into her egg.
Sam strode into the room, said something to Clement, then took a seat across from Delilah.
“Good morning,” he said in a clipped tone.
“Good morning.” Something odd fluttered in her chest. She ignored it and cast him a smile that was no more than polite.
“How are you this morning, Sam?” Teddy glanced up from her papers and favored him with a smile.
“Fine.” He drummed his fingers on the table. Clement set a cup before him and he nodded his thanks.
Delilah traded glances with Teddy.
“Forgive me for saying so but . . .” Delilah chose her words with care. “You sound anything but fine.”
“Admittedly, things aren’t quite as fine as I would like.” Sam blew a long breath. “The motorwagon isn’t working.”
“Oh, dear,” Teddy murmured.
Before last night, Delilah might have pointed out that she knew it all along, that she was not the least bit surprised. Today, however, she was not inclined to do so. She might even feel a bit sorry for the man. Remarkable how a refreshing night’s sleep could improve one’s demeanor. “Can’t your Mr. Moore fix it?”
“I hope so.” Sam nodded. “He is working on it. He thinks it’s just a part that has shaken loose in transit. Unfortunately there are any number of parts it could be.” He looked at Teddy. “I’m afraid your ride is going to have to wait.”
“Ah well.” Teddy smiled, as gracious and charming as ever. “I will simply continue to enjoy the anticipation then.”
He glanced at Delilah. “Have you changed your mind? About riding in my motorwagon.”
“Not really.” She shrugged apologetically. “Although I do hope you manage to get it running.”
“Why?” Suspicion rang in his voice.
“Goodness, Sam.” Delilah stared at him. “As much as I might think it’s utter foolishness, I am not an idiot. You did not make a success of your life by taking exceptionally stupid risks. If you think horseless carriages are the way of the future, it seems to me, I would indeed be an idiot in not acknowledging that I know nothing whatsoever about business and that you probably know what you are doing. And that there is the possibility that you might be right and I might be wrong.” She popped the last bite of toast into her mouth and smiled. “Slim but it exists.”
Teddy’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“Thank you.” Sam’s tone was cautious.
“You’re quite welcome.” She waved at the toast rack. “Toast?”
“I’ve eaten but again thank you.”
“Did you try the sausage?” She lowered her voice in a confidential manner. “It was exceptional.”
Teddy choked.
“I did.” He nodded, a smile in his eyes. “It was very good.”
“I thought so.” She wiped a tiny bit of marmalade from the corner of her mouth with her finger. His gaze flicked to her mouth then to her eyes. She hesitated then deliberately licked the jam from her finger. Oh, dear. Hadn’t she just said she wasn’t an idiot? Apparently she was wrong about that, too. “Possibly the best sausage I’ve ever had.”
He swallowed hard. “It was very good.”
She’d never had a man mesmerized before. “Are you sure you don’t want a bit more?”
“No, thank you.” His voice had the tiniest strangled quality to it.
“Did you try the marmalade as well?”
“Yes, um, very good . . .” he said weakly.
Delilah met his gaze, took a bite of toast, and chewed it slowly. The man couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Perhaps Delilah had more in common with Beryl than she had imagined. This was great fun. She swallowed and sighed with pleasure. “Mmmm. There is something about orange marmalade, especially in cooler weather, that brings to mind the heat of the summer sun and—”
“I’ll have some,” Teddy said abruptly, grabbing a piece of toast and smearing it with marmalade.
Delilah choked back a laugh. Sam cleared his throat and his amused gaze met hers.
“Teddy.” Delilah turned to her friend, still busy savoring her toast and whatever else might have been brought to mind. “I’ve decided to go into London today and pay a call on my solicitors. I’ve not received any word from them and I fear I’m dreadfully impatient.”
“There are a few matters I need to attend to in London as well. Would you mind if I accompanied you?” Sam said with just the right touch of offhandedness followed by the merest hint of hesitation as if he had only now thought of it and wasn’t entirely sure how she’d take the idea. It was very good. The man must be brilliant in matters of business.
“Well.” Delilah drew her brows together thoughtfully. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind company on the train. London is only an hour away but one never knows what one might encounter on the way.” She nodded. “I shall quite appreciate having you along for . . .”
“Safety?” Teddy’s gaze shifted from Delilah to Sam and back. “Protection?”
“Yes, safety.” Sam nodded with perhaps a shade too much enthusiasm.
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Delilah said at the same time.
“Yes, that’s what I thought,” Teddy said.
“I need to have a few words with Gray before we go,” Sam said. “It should take me no more than a quarter of an hour.”
“Excellent.” Delilah nodded. “We should be able to take the next train.”
“In a few minutes then.” He smiled at Teddy, nodded at Delilah, and left the room.
Delilah tasted the pie, decided it was every bit as good as it looked, and took another bite. She glanced at Teddy and paused. “You’re staring at me again. Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. No reason really.”
“And yet you continue to stare.”
“Imagine that. Perhaps it was the marmalade? Tasty but not extraordinarily so.”
“Really?” Delilah widened her eyes. “And I thought it was indeed extraordinary.”
“Possibly the country air has sharpened your senses.”
“I suppose that’s it.” Delilah took another forkful of her pie but it was impossible to enjoy with Teddy staring at her. “You know, if you have something you wish to say, it might be best if you simply said it.”
“I’m just trying to sort something out.”
“Oh?” Delilah set down her fork, pushed her plate away, and folded her hands on the table in front of her. “Go on then.”
“What was that about?” Teddy gestured at the pot of orange preserves. “With the marmalade and the sausage.”
“They were very good and I thought it would be a shame if Sam failed to taste them.” She stifled a grin. “I considered it, oh, my duty as a loyal subject of Her Majesty to make certain our American visitor had the opportunity to partake of our fine English sausages and excellent Scottish marmalade.”
“How very gracious of you.”
“I thought so.”
Teddy aimed an accusing finger. “You were flirting with him.”
“Was I?” Delilah widened her eyes innocently. “I thought I was just being pleasant.”
“Well you were, flirting that is. And you were more than pleasant.” Suspicion shaded Teddy’s face. “You’re being exceptionally nice to him.”
“I wouldn’t say exceptionally nice.” Delilah searched for the right word. “I would say cordial is more accurate.”
“Yesterday you weren’t even cordial.”
“That’s not entirely true. We did play tennis together.”
“Yes, I know but—”
“And won.”
“I know that too.”
“I doubt that we could have won if we hadn’t been cordial to one another.”
“I suppose but—”
“So I really have no idea why you are so suspicious.” Delilah cast her friend a pleasant smile. “First you chastise me for not being nice to the man and now you think I’m being too nice.”
“I don’t think you’re being too nice. I think you’re being . . .” Teddy shook her head. “I don’t know. There’s something I can’t quite put my finger on. . . .”
“I would certainly like to hear it, whatever that something might be.”
“It’s obvious to me—” Teddy sucked in a sharp breath. “You called him Sam!”
“So did you.”
“Yes, but you refused to do so as you once had a dog named Sam. A faithful and loyal companion you said.”
“And indeed he was.”
“Have you decided Sam—Mr. Russell—is faithful and loyal as well?”
“He does play a fine game of tennis.”
Teddy stared. “What has come over you?”
“Nothing really. I simply decided I needed to stop being so . . . unpleasant.” Delilah heaved a heartfelt sigh. “It’s not at all like me and frankly I was tired of it.”
“Perhaps but, I know you, Dee, and . . .” Teddy blew a frustrated breath. “You’ve been odd in recent months. Decidedly odd.”
“Threat of financial disaster, remember?” Delilah shook her head mournfully. “It’s like the sword of Damocles hanging over my head.”
“You said this threat appeared six weeks ago.”
“Give or take a few days.”
“Ah-ha!” Triumph sounded in Teddy’s voice. “I first noticed a change in you when you returned from New York. I thought perhaps travel did not agree with you.”
Delilah rested the back of her hand against her forehead. “Travel is so dreadfully—”
“Stop it, Dee. Stop it at once.” Teddy’s brow furrowed and she glared at her friend. “You’re keeping something from me and I want to know what it is.”
“May I point out, until we arrived here, you and I had barely seen one another at all since my return from New York.”
“Even so—”
“Don’t you think if something truly significant had happened in my life I would tell you?”
“I have always thought so until I discovered you were hiding this threat of a new heir from me.”
“I wasn’t hiding.” Delilah shrugged. “I suppose as long as I didn’t have to admit it, it wasn’t real. I could ignore it completely. Surely you understand that?”
“Of course I do but—”
“There’s really nothing more to it than that.” She cast her friend her brightest smile, rose to her feet, and started toward the door. “Now then I must gather my things if we are to make our train.”
“I still think there’s something you’re hiding.”
“My dear sweet friend.” Delilah paused in the doorway. “You’ve become entirely too suspicious. Looking for things that don’t exist.” Delilah shook her head in a sympathetic manner. “It’s not at all becoming.” She smiled and took her leave.
“Dee!” Teddy called behind. “This discussion is not over!”
Delilah grinned and continued toward her rooms. It was rather remarkable how, when one dipped one’s toes in the pool of deceit, one did seem to be pulled farther and farther in. At this point revealing the truth about Sam to Teddy would do more harm than good. She’d always shared everything with her friend. That she hadn’t shared this would no doubt injure Teddy terribly. Why, it was in the other woman’s best interest to continue to keep this from her.
Besides, she still had no desire for anyone to know about her adventure—adventures—with Sam. It would be different if she intended to, well, keep him. As she didn’t, it would still be best if no one knew. There would be no explanations to make and no recriminations.
No, Sam Russell was her secret and hers alone.
And wasn’t that every bit as delicious as the sausage?
“. . . and if you’ll look down that street you’ll see . . .”
Now this was the Delilah Sam had met in New York. This delightful woman sitting beside him in a hansom cab pointed out the various sights of London with unrestrained enthusiasm.
“. . . and then of course that particular gallery is where . . .”
No, that wasn’t entirely accurate. The woman he’d met in New York had been enjoying the sights of his city but had been more reserved than the one sitting next to him now. This Delilah was in her element. This Delilah was home.
“. . . and yet, I must confess, I am not at all fond . . .”
Regardless, she was a far cry from the Lady Hargate he’d recently met at Millworth Manor. He was not so arrogant as to take credit for her change in demeanor but he was not so humble as to think it had nothing to do with him. Still, it was confusing.
“Who are you?” he said without thinking.
She laughed. “Many things to many people I suspect. Let me think.” She paused and her brow furrowed. “I am, of course, Lady Hargate, Delilah Channing Hargate, widow of the late Lord Phillip Hargate. I am the younger sister of Ladies Lydingham and Dunwell and the youngest daughter of the Earl and Countess of Briston. There, that should cover it all.”
“It doesn’t.” He shook his head. “You’re not the same woman I met in New York, although you bear much more of a resemblance to her than to the Lady Hargate I met a few days ago.”
“Dare I ask how I am different? From the woman in New York that is.”
“Mrs. Hargate was charming and engaging but somewhat more subdued than you are today.”
“Ah, well, in New York I was a visitor. A bit out of place really. But here . . .” She swept a wide gesture at the city around them. “Here is where I belong.”
“You love London, don’t you?”
“I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Much of London is not at all pleasant, as I suspect is true of most cities. There is entirely too much poverty and crime and more should be done to solve those problems. It’s the responsibility of those of us who have more to do what we can to assist those who have nothing.”
“Do you?”
“Of course I do.” She raised a brow. “You sound surprised.”
“My apologies. I don’t mean to.”
“I may not have the skills needed to be a teacher or governess, but I have organized several charitable events that have been most successful.”
“I don’t doubt that for a moment.”
“Excellent. The next time I am engaged in such an endeavor I shall expect a sizable donation.” She cast him a firm look. “Even from the other side of the ocean.”
He grinned. “You can count on it.”
“Oh, I shall.” She nodded and continued. “Any number of people I know prefer living in the country. I do like the country but, well, London is the most exciting place in the world.” Pride colored her words. “It’s the heart of the empire, the largest empire man has ever known. London is the center of theater and art, intellect and literature, politics and history. It has been a community for nearly two thousand years. And . . .” She smiled in a teasing manner. “The shopping is excellent.”
He laughed. “It suits you. London that is.”
“Do you think so?” She arched a brow. “Why? A moment ago you asked me who I was. You scarcely know me.”
“On the contrary, my dear Lady Hargate. I know you better than you think.”
“Oh?” She studied him with amusement. “Then tell me what you know.”
“Everything?”
She blushed. “Perhaps not everything.”
“All right. Let me think.” He considered her for a moment. “I know even while you say you are a stickler for tradition, you find a great deal of enjoyment in something new.”
“You mean like a motorwagon?”
“No, I mean you like seeing something new to you. Unless I’m mistaken, you very much enjoyed the sights of New York.”
“True.” She nodded. “I suppose I haven’t traveled enough to be nonchalant about seeing somewhere I have never been before. I’ve never been outside of England except to accompany Camille and Grayson to New York. Oh, and I have been to Paris, of course.” She bit back a smile. “The shopping is excellent there too.”
“I have heard that.” He chuckled. “As have my mother and sisters. I doubt that I can avoid accompanying them to Paris for too much longer.” He grinned. “But I am trying.”
“You’ve mentioned your sisters before. How many do you have?”
“It seems like dozens.” He blew a long breath. “But only five, one of whom is married. The others are still too young.” He drew his brows together. “And growing up entirely too fast.”
She laughed. “The next years should be interesting for you.”
“I am not looking forward to it.” He shuddered. Of all the tasks he had taken on in the wake of his father’s death, watching over his younger sisters was already proving to be the most difficult.
“What else do you know about me?”
“I know you have never been close to your own sisters but you are all making efforts to improve your relationship.”
She scoffed. “That scarcely counts. Grayson told you that.”
“He did but he didn’t need to. You and Camille aren’t completely comfortable in each other’s presence. There’s a tentative undercurrent between you, as if you are both carefully feeling your way along. It’s apparent to anyone the least bit observant.” He shrugged. “Or maybe it’s just apparent to someone with sisters.”
“That’s very good.” She studied him coolly. “And I think that’s quite enough. I’m not sure I want you to know everything about me and I’m a bit concerned about what you already think you know.”
He grinned. “Scared, Lady Hargate?”
Something akin to acknowledgment flashed through her eyes so quickly he might have been mistaken. “Of you? An arrogant American? Don’t be absurd.”
“I see I have improved in your eyes.” He smiled. “I used to be an insufferable American.”
“Perhaps I know you better than you think.”
He laughed and glanced at the passing scenery. “How long have you been staying at the manor?”
“Just a few weeks.” She paused. “I assume you know I closed my house here in town and the country house.”
“Gray mentioned that.”
“I would have come to Millworth even without the excuse of Camille’s wedding. I had nowhere else to go. It’s not at all pleasant to be without funds when one has never had to be concerned with money before.”
“I can imagine,” Sam said. He suspected Delilah’s offhand manner hid a much deeper fear. His family had always had an adequate income, not the vast fortune he had amassed now. He could live a simpler life but his mother and sisters would not do well without money. Nor, no doubt, would Delilah.
“Oh, I could have thrown myself on the mercy of friends but the only thing worse than being a poor relation is being an impoverished friend.” She wrinkled her nose. “There is nothing that makes others more uncomfortable than having a friend in their midst who has fallen upon difficult financial times.”
“And these are friends?”
“One does wonder.” She smiled. “I imagine it’s because it could happen to anyone. There but for the grace of God, you understand.”
He nodded.
“Precisely why it’s best to keep such difficulties quiet. No one would talk about it to your face anyway. Everyone usually pretends life is as it always has been.”
“Isn’t that when you discover your true friends?”
“Perhaps, but I’m not sure I wish to test that theory,” she said wryly.
“You remained friends with Teddy when her family lost its money.”
She cast him a sharp glance. “Grayson again?”
He shrugged. “He has his suspicions.”
“I’m not surprised. I imagine Camille has her suspicions as well. One doesn’t go from throwing the kind of elaborate soirees Teddy and her mother did to managing weddings and parties for other people simply on a whim. Although they want people to believe they’re simply bored and this is a way to fill their time.” She gazed at the passing scenery for a moment. “Teddy is as close to me as any sister, closer than my own have been in the past. She has built a new life for herself. I’m not sure I can do the same.”
“I suspect you are stronger than you think.”
“And you suspect that because you know me so well?”
“Perhaps I suspect it because I don’t.”
“As much as I hate to disappoint you, strength is not my forte. I find the unknown nothing short of terrifying. I like life to be planned and expected.” She shook her head. “I certainly didn’t have the courage to tell my family about my financial quandary until I had no other choice. If not for Camille’s wedding, and everyone gathering at Millworth, I probably would have hidden that as long as necessary.” She sighed. “It’s not easy to explain, even to those who know you best, that your world has been upended. There’s an inherent failure in it, as if what has befallen you is your fault.”
“That’s ridiculous.” He drew his brows together. “The fact that your late husband might have an unknown heir has nothing to do with you.”
“You’re looking at this rationally, Sam, and I am speaking of perceptions.” She thought for a moment. “One does what one is supposed to do in life, you know, with certain expectations.”
“That things will turn out as they should?”
She nodded.
“And if they don’t?”
“If they don’t, well, somehow, you’ve failed.” She smiled. “And that is the twist, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
Her gaze met his. “Regardless of expectations, even if one does exactly what one should, plays the game according to the rules if you will, life does not always turn out as planned.”
“That’s the problem with plans. The best laid plans and all.”
“Still . . .” She set her jaw in a stubborn manner. “They do give one something to cling to in the midst of chaos and uncertainty.”
“Does your plan to marry someone with wealth and position give you something to cling to now?”
“Yes, Sam, it does,” she said and turned her attention toward the streets passing by.
Well, that was certainly stupid. He had pushed her entirely too far. Delilah’s lighthearted manner had sobered. The least he could do now was try to brighten her spirits. After all, she was introducing him to her husband’s associate, a Mr. Julian Tate if he recalled correctly, for no other reason than to help him. Besides, they had agreed to be friends. As her friend, he should do something.
“What is your favorite place in London?” It was the first thing that popped into his mind.
“My favorite?” She studied him cautiously. “Why do you want to know?”
“I thought you might like to show me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why would I want to do that?”
“My God, you’re a stubborn woman.” He shook his head. “I’m trying to be friends.”
“Oh, well.” She waved her hand at him. “Go on then.”
“I want to see your favorite place in London because I’m a visitor and everyone else has very definite opinions about what I should see. This is your city, you’re proud of it, and you probably know it well. Besides, if we’re going to be friends, I’d like to see what my friend likes. We are going to be friends, aren’t we?”
“Yes.” A slow smile creased her lips. “I believe we are.” She paused. “You’re certain you want to see my favorite place?”
“I do,” he said staunchly.
“It’s not terribly exciting.”
“Some of my favorite places are not especially exciting but they have meaning to me. Of course . . .” He heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “If you would prefer not to show your friend . . .”
“Oh for goodness’ sake.” She leaned forward and called an address to the driver. “It’s not far from Julian’s so it won’t take us out of the way.”
A few minutes later they pulled up before an imposing redbrick house. Tall and narrow, it was a good five stories high.
“This is it,” she said with pride. “This is my house.” She glanced at him with a half-hearted smile. “For the moment anyway.”
“Very nice.” He nodded. “Should we get out?”
“It’s not necessary.” She studied the building with obvious affection. “It’s closed up and I’d prefer not to go inside right now. There are dustcovers over everything and I find it altogether too melancholy. Besides we should be going.”
“Maybe another time, then?”
“Perhaps.” Her gaze stayed on her house. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking?”
“You’re surprised it isn’t as grand as you expected a house of mine to be. Given that I am such a snob.”
“I would never think such a thing.” He grinned.
She cast him a skeptical look then returned her attention to the house. “Phillip’s father bought this house as a future wedding gift for his son long before Phillip and I actually met. He had died by the time we married. I love it. I have had a hand in the decoration of each and every room. Of course Phillip had a say as well. He had excellent taste. But this is, well, mine or I feel it’s mine. It’s as close to a sanctuary as I have ever had. Unfortunately, Phillip preferred the country and solitude. I preferred the city. So I spent much of my time here.”
“Alone?”
“Usually.”
He stared for a long moment. Gray was right. Hargate was an idiot.
“Stop staring at me. It’s rude you know, even for an ill-mannered American.”
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“What? No clever quip? No sarcastic barb? No response designed to put me in my place?”
“No,” he said simply. “You were right, I was rude.”
“I am usually right.” She slanted him a quick smile. “Well?”
“Not that I’ve noticed,” he said coolly.
She laughed. “Much better.”
Good. He had made her laugh. That was something anyway.
“We weren’t separated, we simply had different interests, that’s all. And we were wise enough to accept those differences between us.” She paused. “Don’t think alone is the same as lonely. It’s not, you know.”
“I would never think that.”
“I was never lonely. I have a great number of friends and acquaintances, aside from Teddy. I entertained quite a lot, musical evenings and soirees and literary salons and the like. I am—was—active in charitable endeavors. My husband gave me the freedom to pursue my own path as it were. Our life together was quite—”
“Perfect?”
“Exactly.” She nodded. “And my life will be again.”
“With another perfect husband.”
She hesitated for no more than a fraction of a second. “That is the plan. Now then.” She turned to him and smiled. “We should be off if you wish to meet with Julian. And I have a great deal to accomplish today.”
“That’s right, you want to meet with your solicitor.”
“Among other things.” She gave the driver the address and they started off.
A few minutes later the cab pulled up in front of a grand mansion at least three times the size of Delilah’s. He helped her out of the carriage and they approached the house.
“Julian’s family is quite well connected. He is the nephew of a marquess, although dozens would have to perish before he inherited a title of any kind. Still, do try not to be too American.”
He chuckled. “I shall do my best.”
“That will have to do I suppose.” She considered him with a critical eye. “I will say one thing for you, Sam, you do know how to dress properly.”
“Is that a compliment, Lady Hargate?”
“No, Mr. Russell, it’s an observation.” She nodded and started toward the door.
“I would hate for you to be embarrassed.” He grinned.
“My dear, Mr. Russell, you’re quite an attractive man and you well know it. It’s not your appearance clothed that I find embarrassing.” A wicked twinkle gleamed in her eye. “It’s the most distracting memory of when you aren’t.”