Chapter Twelve
“Delilah, my dear, it’s been entirely too long.” Julian Tate stepped into his library, his eyes lit with apparent delight. But then Julian had always been good at appearances. He took her hands and kissed her on each cheek. “I have missed you.”
“You needn’t have, you know,” Delilah said with a smile. “I am quite cross that you have never accepted one of my invitations.”
She’d scarcely seen him at all in the three years since Phillip’s death even though she had dutifully issued him invitations to various social and charitable functions. He’d been Phillip’s lifelong friend but Delilah had never quite taken to him. Or he to her for that matter. Still, they were always cordial to one another, even friendly. It would have been difficult otherwise. In many ways, he had been the third person in her marriage.
“Oh, I’ve become something of a hermit I’m afraid.” He chuckled. “Health problems and that sort of thing.”
“You look well,” she lied. Julian had been quite a handsome man when she’d first met him. Indeed, he and Phillip could have passed for brothers. He was the same age as her husband, who would have been forty-six this past May, but Julian appeared far older. These last years had not been kind to him.
He laughed. “You never did lie well.”
“Perhaps because I don’t lie at all.” She studied him closely. “You should get out more, Julian. It would do you good.”
“Nonsense, I have everything I need right here and I can do everything I want to do from right here. And what I can’t, can be arranged.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “One of the benefits of having a tidy fortune and a measure of financial power is that I can hire people to do what I need done.”
“Of course.” She pulled her hands from his and nodded at Sam. “I was hoping you might spare some time to have a few words with my friend, Mr. Russell.”
“Ah yes, the American.” Julian eyed Sam curiously. “My butler said you were accompanied by an American. I found it most surprising.”
“Life is full of surprises, Julian.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tate.” Sam nodded a greeting. “I hope we haven’t come at an inconvenient time.”
“Not at all. My schedule is my own.” He glanced at Delilah. “There’s something to be said for living a solitary life.”
“Mr. Russell is engaged in a business pursuit with my sister Camille’s fiancé and I thought perhaps you might give him the benefit of your wisdom. Phillip always said no one had a better head for business than you.”
“I daresay Phillip said a lot of things about me and that might well have been the kindest.” He smiled, took her arm, and led her to the sofa. “But first, let’s talk about you, shall we? How are you, my dear?”
She took a seat on the sofa and Julian sat down beside her. Sam settled in a nearby chair. The American was subtle enough, and Julian probably didn’t notice, but Delilah did wish Sam would stop studying them as if he were trying to work out some sort of puzzle. Given his observation about the undercurrents between her and Camille, he was much more astute than one might expect.
“I am well enough. My life is rather uneventful really.” Aside from the threat of losing all I have to an alleged heir.
“I doubt that.” His gaze met hers. “Phillip has been gone for three years now.”
“I am well aware of that.”
“It was Phillip’s wish that after no more than three years—”
“I am aware of that too,” she said in a sharper tone than she had intended. It had never sat well with her that this man had always been closer to her husband than she was. Julian was Phillip’s confidant. She was merely his wife. “However, I was not aware that you knew of his wishes.”
“We discussed it when he had his will drawn up.” Julian paused, obviously choosing his words. “We thought, rather, he thought, if he were to die while you were still a young woman, it wouldn’t be at all fair for you to be tied to him for the rest of your life.” He shook his head. “It seemed like such a waste.”
“And yet, as he is gone, shouldn’t what I do with the rest of my life be my decision?”
He ignored her and addressed Sam. “My apologies, Mr. Russell, for speaking of something you know nothing about. I’m afraid my social skills have become rather rusty.”
“Understandable.” Sam’s pleasant smile did nothing to hide the curiosity in his eyes.
“This is really a private matter, Julian,” she said in a hard tone. “I’m certain Mr. Russell has no interest in it.”
“You introduced him as your friend, Delilah. And you brought him to see me, which indicates you do indeed consider him your friend. As your friend, I’m certain he has only your best interests at heart.” He looked at Sam. “Am I wrong, Mr. Russell?”
“Not at all, Mr. Tate,” Sam said smoothly. “I haven’t known Lady Hargate for long but, especially as she is soon to be related to one of my closest friends, I do indeed want nothing but the best for her.”
“Fine.” Delilah shrugged in surrender. Apparently it didn’t matter what she wished; Julian was determined to reveal Phillip’s plan for her future. For the first time she wondered whether it might not be better to be poor but able to manage your own life than to be married. At the moment, poverty did not seem quite as dreadful a fate as marriage. And she had never in her life thought of marriage as dreadful. Indeed, Phillip’s last wishes hadn’t bothered her at all until this moment.
“Good.” Julian nodded and addressed Sam. “Phillip—Lord Hargate—left a letter detailing his wishes along with his will. It was his desire that his wife remarry after he had been gone for no more than three years. He did not wish her to mourn for the rest of her days. To that end, he instructed me to do what I could to ensure that his wishes were carried out.”
Delilah stared in surprise. “What are you supposed to do? Find me a husband?”
Julian glanced at Sam then shook his head. “I’m afraid he was not that specific.”
“How thoughtful of him to encourage her to go on with her life.” Sam’s tone was as neutral as if he had been discussing something of no importance rather than her dead husband’s direction for the rest of her life. “That does lead one to wonder though . . .”
Julian’s brow rose. “Yes?”
“Yes?” she snapped. What was it now?
“Well . . .” Sam’s brow furrowed. “This letter was not actually part of his will?”
Julian shook his head. “No.”
“Then it’s not legally binding? There is no penalty if she does not remarry in the allocated amount of time? She does not lose her property or her fortune if she fails to marry? No dire fate befalls her?”
“I fear you’ve been reading too many novels, Mr. Russell.” Julian chuckled. “It was Phillip’s wish, not his command. So no, of course not.”
“Then I assume as well, there is no particular benefit to remarrying? She does not stand to gain from it? There is no additional inheritance dependent upon her remarriage?”
“Other than the fact that she will be content and secure and fulfilled in her proper role in life?” Julian asked as if the answer was obvious. “No.”
“Then it seems to me that, while it might have been considerate of Lord Hargate to want his widow to move on with her life, she is under no obligation to adhere to his wishes.” Sam smiled pleasantly. “And she can do as she damn well pleases.” He shot an amused glance at Delilah. “Which I suspect she intends to do anyway.”
She stared at him. The loveliest feeling washed through her. Had the annoying man just defended her right to live her life as she wished? How very . . . American of him.
“Quite right, Mr. Russell.” Julian laughed. “And clever of you to point that out.” He smiled at Delilah. “He simply wanted you to be happy, you know.”
“I would be happy if this discussion was at an end,” she said. “Besides we are not here to discuss me. We are here to discuss . . .” She paused in the manner of a master storyteller. “Horseless carriages.”
“Are we now?” Julian’s gaze slid to Sam. “You know, some are saying they’re the way of the future.”
“Good Lord,” she muttered.
“I think so.” Sam cast her a smug look. “I have recently come from a meeting in Germany with a man who has developed a new internal combustion engine.”
“Ah yes, Mr. Benz.” Julian nodded.
Surprise colored Sam’s face. “You know of him?”
“I am not as stodgy or as old-fashioned as I may appear, Mr. Russell.” Julian smiled. “Just because I prefer not to leave my house doesn’t mean I’m not well informed. So you have seen his motorwagon?”
“Better than that.” Sam grinned. “I bought one.”
“I see.” Julian’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “And what do you intend to do with it? I assume you have some sort of plan in mind.”
“I do indeed.” Sam leaned forward and addressed the other man. “Gray—Mr. Elliott—and I are confident motorwagons can be . . .”
Delilah’s mind wandered almost at once. She had heard all this before and saw no need to pay close attention now.
It was decidedly odd being once again in the room that had served more as an office than a library for both Julian and Phillip when they were engaged in some sort of financial enterprise. Phillip had said a true gentleman did not have an office outside of his home, although apparently it was acceptable to have an office in another man’s home. At least in the city. The library at Hargate Hall had served a similar purpose for the two men.
Nothing had changed here since the last time she’d been in this room or the first for that matter. She distinctly recalled Julian had hosted a small dinner party in the first year of her marriage to Phillip in their honor. Then as now the same sofa and chairs were positioned in front of the fireplace. Portraits of Julian’s father and grandfather still hung over the mantel. An elaborately carved library table separated the halves of the room. A partners’ desk, identical to the one at Hargate Hall, dominated the far end of the room as it always had. No, nothing had changed, as if Phillip would walk back into the room at any moment. She wondered what he would say to find her here. She’d never felt particularly welcome in this room. Even though Julian had been gracious and welcoming today, the feeling of being out of place remained.
Sam and Julian were deep in discussion and there was no need for her to stay. She could probably call on her solicitor and be back before they were finished. Whether or not she also called on the investigator Camille had recommended depended on what she learned at her solicitor’s office.
“Gentlemen.” She rose to her feet. Sam stood at once, Julian a bit slower. “I do apologize for the interruption, but I have a matter to attend to and if I stay much longer it shall be too late. So if you will forgive me, I shall be off.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Sam’s gaze met hers.
“Thank you but I much prefer to go alone.” She smiled and nodded at Julian. “The two of you are obviously nowhere near finished. I daresay I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone. Besides, if we are to catch the last train, it’s simply practical for me to go alone.”
“If you’re sure.” Sam smiled and something odd happened in the pit of her stomach. When had he become such a very nice man? Or more to the point, when had she finally noticed?
“I am.” She nodded. “Julian, we must get you out of this house. Perhaps you can join me for dinner one evening.”
Julian smiled. “Perhaps.”
“Excellent. Good day, gentlemen.” She smiled and took her leave.
A footman hailed a cab for her and she was on her way in a matter of moments. In spite of the heavy traffic, she was soon at her solicitor’s. And had scarcely any time at all to consider the ramifications of being friends with Sam but it was all she could think of.
She liked the blasted man. It was shocking to realize but there you had it. He was, well, a good man. A nice man. It wasn’t enough that she had wanted him in a purely sinful way although that appetite had been sated.
For the moment, an annoying voice that sounded suspiciously like his said in the back of her head. She ignored it.
Sam was the sort of man one could possibly trust. Not with her heart, of course, but with her friendship. She hadn’t lied when she’d told him she had a great many friends but aside from Teddy she didn’t know how many, if any, of those she could turn to if she were in dire need.
She could indeed be his friend but there it would end. He would go back to America after the wedding. She would find a new husband. He would do whatever it was he was doing with his horseless carriages and no doubt, vastly increase his wealth. They would go on with their respective lives exactly as planned. For the first time, her plans didn’t sound quite as perfect as they usually did.
Not that today’s plans were going well. Her solicitor was ill, his partners were otherwise engaged and out of the offices. Annoying but no matter really. He probably had no news for her anyway. She’d write to him tomorrow and arrange a specific appointment for next week. For now, she’d return to Julian’s, collect Sam, and they would have to hurry if they wanted to catch the last train back to the country.
“I’m afraid they are still closeted in the library, Lady Hargate,” Julian’s butler said upon her return. “Shall I—” A crash sounded from the direction of the back stairs and he winced. “Announce you?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary, Mr. Bender. I am more than capable of announcing myself and I can certainly find the library. Besides, it appears you may have something else you need to attend to.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Mr. Bender said with relief. “We’ve been in the midst of an upheaval here. Half the staff is new and not as well trained as one would expect.” He shook his head in despair at the lack of quality of today’s servants. “Good day then, Lady Hargate.” He nodded, turned sharply, and hurried out of sight.
Delilah resisted the urge to grin. If there was one thing she knew about Julian, he did not tolerate a poorly run household. Of course, neither had Phillip.
She circled the center gallery to the library door. It was already open a crack. Poor Mr. Bender. The turmoil below-stairs was obviously taking its toll on him. The well-trained butler would never leave a door partially opened when privacy was called for.
“. . . and most impressive,” Julian’s voice drifted from the doorway. She raised her hand to knock. “Now then, before Delilah returns, I was wondering if I might have a word with you.”
She paused.
“Of course,” Sam said.
This was eavesdropping and not the sort of thing she did. Although admittedly, she didn’t seem to have any particular qualms about it. And they were talking about her.
What on earth did Julian wish to say to Sam without her?
And why?
“It has recently come to my attention that there is a new claim to Lord Hargate’s estate,” Tate said.
“I was under the impression that was a well-kept secret,” Sam said cautiously.
“It is for the most part. I only learned of this a few days ago and only because I have made it my business to keep a close eye on Delilah’s welfare. At least, her financial well-being. I owe her that much,” Tate said, a faint hint of regret in his voice. “I knew all of Lord Hargate’s secrets. Phillip and I were very close. Indeed, I was the executor of his estate after his death.”
“Go on.”
“Phillip could not have an undisclosed heir.” He shrugged in an offhand manner that belied his words. “He was unable to have children.”
“Oh?”
“A childhood illness rendered him incapable of siring children.”
Sam drew his brows together. “Does Lady Hargate know this?”
“No.” Tate shook his head. “Phillip didn’t want her to know.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, I’m sure you don’t.” Tate blew a long resigned breath. “Appearances, Mr. Russell, are everything in this world. Phillip needed a wife and he chose Delilah for the usual reasons. She was a young woman of good family, well educated, unblemished by scandal, and quite attractive as you may have noticed.”
“She’s lovely.”
“Indeed she is. She was, for all intents and purposes, the perfect wife for him. And he had hoped, that possibly, with the right wife, the doctors might have been wrong.”
“But they weren’t?”
“No. Perhaps if he had been more, I don’t know . . . enthusiastic is as good a word as any I suppose.” Tate considered Sam carefully. “You see, there was another difficulty as well.”
Sam raised a brow. “Oh?”
“Phillip was not . . .” Tate looked off into the distance as if gathering his strength then drew a deep breath. His gaze met Sam’s. “Phillip did not, well, he did not especially like women. They were not his . . . preference, shall we say. He understood his duty to his family and his title but . . . This is awkward, Mr. Russell. Please tell me I do not need to be more explicit.”
Sam stared at the older man. “Probably not.”
“This is not the sort of thing one speaks of, certainly not openly.”
“And Delilah knows nothing of this? Of her husband’s . . .” Sam hesitated. “Preferences?”
“Absolutely not,” Tate said. “Nor did he intend for her ever to know. Although, if he hadn’t died, as the years went on, she might well have surmised the truth. They were only married for five years. Still, one tends not to see what one is not looking for.”
“But she is an intelligent woman.”
“That she is.” Tate chuckled. “It came as something of a surprise to Phillip. He did not expect intelligence, nor do I think he particularly wanted it.”
“I’m sure that made life more difficult for him.”
“You have no idea.” Tate scoffed. “But even if she had suspected, I doubt that she would have said anything. It’s usually easier to keep up a pretense than to face the truth.”
“I suppose.” Sam considered the other man for a long moment. “It wasn’t fair, though, was it? To Lady Hargate I mean.”
“It wasn’t especially fair to anyone. Not to Phillip or to me and certainly not to his wife. But I’m sure you know as well as I that life is rarely fair.”
“Even so—”
“You must understand, Mr. Russell.” Tate leaned forward in his chair. “Phillip had reached the age of thirty-eight when he decided it would be prudent to marry. The world is a dangerous place for an unmarried man of a certain age who has never been married or does not have a scandalous reputation for having indiscriminate affairs with any number of amenable women.
“Delilah’s mother was looking for a suitable match. Phillip was eminently suitable. He had the fortune, he had the title, and he was a handsome devil. He was twenty years older than she, which was not at all considered too old. After all, her sisters had both married men considerably older. And Delilah and Phillip got on well together. In fact, Phillip was quite taken with her. In every way, it did appear to be an excellent match.” His voice hardened. “But make no mistake about it, this was as much a business arrangement as anything else. Most marriages are, you know. Phillip was fond of her, of course, but . . .” He shook his head. “For the most part, theirs was a marriage like many others. He provided Delilah with wealth and a prominent position in the world. She gave him an excellent wife.”
“But you’re certain she didn’t know the truth about her husband?” Sam hesitated. These were uncharted waters for him. “About his . . . preferences?”
“How did I come up with that term?” Tate cast Sam a wry smile. “It will do as good as any, and better than most I suppose. No, as I have already said, I am sure she never knew. If she had, she wouldn’t have . . .”
“Wouldn’t have what?”
“I’ve never told anyone any of this.” He grimaced. “I have probably said entirely too much already.”
Sam studied the other man closely. “Why have you told me anything at all?”
“As I said, I only heard of Delilah’s difficulties a few days ago. Since then I have been debating how best to reveal this information without going directly to Delilah. I would prefer not to be involved.” He shook his head. “I have no desire to unduly upset her. Coming from me, this information would only bring up more questions. The situation is no doubt trying enough as it is. To find out Phillip lied to her about his ability to have children—admittedly it was by omission but a lie nonetheless—would not help anyone now. There’s no need for her to know that or any of the rest.”
“Why not go to one of her sisters?”
“I don’t know either of her sisters past a nodding acquaintance. It’s my understanding that Lady Lydingham is residing in the country at the moment. As for her other sister . . .” A pained expression crossed his face. “Have you met Lady Dunwell?”
“Not yet.”
“I only know her by reputation, not as sterling as one might hope,” he said in a wry manner. “Phillip had an innate distrust of her but then admittedly Delilah rarely saw her sisters. Besides Lord Dunwell is actively engaged in politics.” He shuddered as if the very word was distasteful.
“You could have sent the information anonymously to her solicitors.”
“I considered that and might well have taken that step eventually. But anonymous information is often discredited unless delivered by a creditable messenger.”
“Me?”
Tate nodded.
“I still don’t see—”
“One seizes opportunity when it presents itself, Mr. Russell. You are an opportunity that I do not intend to squander. As a man of business I am certain you understand that.”
“Yes, of course but—”
“Delilah brought you here, which indicates she thinks very highly of you. She would not have done so otherwise.”
“Perhaps.” Sam nodded slowly. He hadn’t quite thought of it that way but it was a nice idea.
“That said, I suspect you have earned her trust as well.” Tate pinned Sam with a hard look. “And you now have mine.”
“So you’re asking me to lie to her?”
“Not at all. I am simply entrusting you with the means to ensure she receives everything she should. Everything that is rightfully hers. It’s up to you to decide when or if she receives this information. I would suggest, however, that you might wait until this matter is resolved and in the past before you tell her everything.”
Sam stared at him for a long moment. The man was right. There was no need for Delilah to know this. Any of it. At least, not at the moment. He ignored the thought that, regardless of how Tate chose to phrase it, Sam would indeed be lying to her.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing especially difficult. Simply contact Delilah’s solicitor and give him this information.” Tate stood and moved to the large desk. “This will only take a moment.” He sat down, selected a piece of paper, and threw Sam a quick glance. “Do pour yourself a brandy, Mr. Russell. My apologies for not offering earlier.”
“Thank you.” Sam spotted a decanter and a tray of glasses on the library table and headed toward it. He poured a glass and took a much-appreciated sip. When Delilah had offered to introduce him to her late husband’s friend and partner, he had hoped for a bit of insight, perhaps some advice or suggestions. He certainly hadn’t expected to have Delilah’s fate put in his hands.
“This is the name and address of Delilah’s solicitor as well as the name and address of the doctor Phillip regularly consulted here in London. That too he kept secret from her.”
“He had a lot of secrets,” Sam said under his breath.
“Don’t we all in one way or another, Mr. Russell.” Tate finished writing, slipped the page into an envelope, then stood and joined Sam. “I shall send a note round to the doctor in the morning, instructing him in my capacity as Lord Hargate’s executor, to confide Phillip’s condition to Delilah’s solicitor upon request.”
He accepted the envelope from the older man and slipped it into his breast coat pocket. “So I’m simply to instruct Lady Hargate’s solicitor to contact the doctor?”
“Discreetly of course.” Tate nodded. “But yes, that should do it.”
“How should I say I came by this information?”
“Come now, Mr. Russell, you’re an intelligent man. I daresay you can come up with something plausible.” Tate poured a glass of brandy. “I know it seems silly to you, my desire to keep my distance. As much as I feel obligated to assist Delilah, Phillip would expect no less, I have my own life to be concerned with.”
“She is following his advice.” Sam sipped his brandy. “She is looking for a new husband.”
“Good.” Tate nodded. “I wish her nothing but happiness. I was married once, years ago. Lovely woman. She died entirely too young.” He paused. “I owe it to Phillip and to Delilah as well to help her. I’d marry her myself but she’d never have me.”
“Nor is she your preference?” Sam said slowly.
“I’m afraid Phillip was the great love of my life. I only hope he wasn’t the great love of hers.” Tate sipped his brandy thoughtfully and said nothing for a few moments. “Love was not expected to enter into their marriage, you see. Oh, Phillip felt a certain measure of affection for her but he never anticipated that she would fall in love with him. He feared he had broken her heart. He felt dreadful about it.”
Sam’s heart twisted for her. “But not dreadful enough?”
Tate’s gaze met his. “No.” He shrugged. “As I said before, life is not fair. And matters of the heart are often the most unfair of all.”
And didn’t Sam know that from experience? “True enough.”
“I don’t know why I have told you all this. Although I suppose if I am asking you to help her, you deserve to know everything.” He blew a long breath. “Now that that is settled, let us go back to consideration of your motorwagon. It seems to me the best way to reach our upper ten-thousand . . .”
Tate continued with a few further suggestions but Sam was hard-pressed to put these new revelations about Delilah out of his mind. Not simply the information about her husband, interesting though it was, but Tate’s revelations put Delilah’s comments about love with regard to marriage in an entirely new light. It made perfect sense that she was not interested in love when love had failed her before.
A knock sounded at the door and the butler entered at once. “I beg your pardon, sir, but I thought perhaps Lady Hargate might like some refreshment.”
“Lady Hargate hasn’t returned yet,” Tate said with a quizzical frown.
“My apologies, sir, but she returned some time ago.” The butler paused. “She said she was joining you.”
Tate and Sam exchanged glances.
“I see,” Tate said slowly. “That will be all, Bender.”
“Yes, sir.” The butler nodded and took his leave.
Tate waited until the door closed behind the servant. “Do you think she heard us?”
“If she hadn’t, she would have come in.” Sam downed the rest of his brandy and set the glass on the table.
“Good Lord, I didn’t want her to know any of this.” Tate rubbed a weary hand over his forehead. “Now what?”
“Now, I have to find her.” Urgency sharpened his tone. Sam considered the other man. “You know her better than I; where do you think she would go?”
“I have no idea.” His gaze met Sam’s. “Do you think she heard all of it?”
“I suspect she heard enough,” Sam said. Tate was right. Delilah would be devastated. How could she not be?
“We can only hope she didn’t hear everything I suppose.”
“If she didn’t, she’s either going to guess the rest or she’ll be back to demand answers. The problem, Mr. Tate, with secrets of this magnitude, is that their revelation is often worse than the secret itself.” He shook his head slowly. “The betrayal is in the not knowing.”
Tate heaved a heartfelt sigh. “You’re right of course.”
“A more pressing question at the moment isn’t so much what she heard.” Sam’s tone hardened. “The question is, where is she now?”