Delia's Debt
Page 12
“Yes.” He stood, pushing the chair back as it groaned against the marble. Standing, he stretched his back and led Delia from the dining room across the hall. “Girls!” He called to his children before they even so much as stepped into the room.
“Yes, papa?” Emma asked. “Is it time to go?”
Charles glanced from Delia to Emma. “Does she know about today’s surprise?” He had been wanting to keep news of their attending The Great Exhibition a secret, in case the plans had fallen through. The last thing he desired was to disappoint his two favorite people in the entire world. Plus, he was terrible when it came to dealing with seeing his daughters cry.
“I may have explained to her about the exhibition, what she would expect to see, and that she is to keep with us the entire time.” Delia did not apologize and he wondered if the strong streak in her could be tamed. It wasn’t that he did not desire a strong woman, it was that he sometimes felt he knew what was best for his children.
“Very well.” There was no sense in arguing with Delia about the arrangement now. They were to leave soon. “I shall get Frank and have him bring the carriage around front.”
“That would be kind of you.”
“Meet me with the girls outside in ten. Make sure they are ready to go. Alice could use her hair combed.”
“Yes, of course,” Delia said.
* * * * *
Fifteen minutes later, Delia shuffled the girls out the front door. He opened his mouth to protest the tardiness until he saw that Alice had changed dresses and her hair was pinned up making her look much more prim and proper.
“Have any trouble?” he asked, suspecting she had her hands full by the grim look on her face.
“Nothing I could not handle, sir.”
“It is Charles,” he said, correcting her.
Frank opened the door and offered his hand, helping Alice and then Emma into the carriage.
Charles reached for Delia’s hand. “You shall only call me sir if you are refusing my hand and denying me a wedding.”
“I would never do such a thing,” Delia said, her free hand finding its way to her chest, looking shocked and filled with trepidation. He had not intended to worry her any more than she already had been with her nerves on edge.
“Good. Then you are to call me Charles.” He wanted to hear his name slip from her tongue. At night, in bed, he was poppa but out here, in front of the world and everyone who watched and listened, he was to be her husband.
“Very well, Charles. The girls were well behaved but Alice needed a proper changing after spilling some jam on her dress.”
“Oh. I am glad you noticed.” He felt a bit like a fool for not having paid attention to the attire his children were in, especially if he was taking his girls and himself to meet Delia’s father. What would he have thought? Charles was a fit father but overwhelmed. He vowed to never let that show.
Having taken her hand, he helped her into the carriage and then stepped inside, sitting across from Delia. “Scoot over girls,” he said, making sure there was plenty of room for him.
Delia sat alone on the bench across from him. Neither girl seemed to make the first gesture to warm up to her. He felt a fool for squeezing his children onto one bench along with him. Did his children only saw Delia as their governess and nanny? It would take time to change that but he would do everything he could to show them that she was not leaving. He hoped his girls would find that she meant more to them than anyone else who had passed through their lives.
Delia sat with her hands in her lap, but she remained restless the entire ride to the train station. Fiddling with her hands, she picked at her nails and bounced her foot anxiously along the floor of the carriage.
He wanted to calm her, assure her that there was nothing to be afraid of and wrap his arms around her, but instead he sat there, hands clasped together and head bent down, avoiding her nervous glance. “Please tell me you have no regrets,” Charles said. He had his fair share but with Delia, he had come to regret nothing.
“None,” Delia said, glancing up to meet his intense stare. She smiled, looking nervous as her brow furrowed. “I have not seen my father or spoken with him in days. That might not seem like such a long time but I left without saying a proper goodbye.”
“You are worried about how he might react upon seeing you again?” Charles guessed. It made sense and yet they were family. Her father had to forgive her for leaving. She had done what she felt was absolutely necessary. He saw that. She did not have to divulge to him that the shop he had purchased the exquisite fabrics from had likely not made enough to pay its rent in months. She had bailed to save him from caring for her. Besides, her father should be ecstatic that he had no intention or need to take her dowry. It would remain with her should something happen to him or should her father need it to survive.
“I left my father a note and lied to John, his coachman, about where I went. It was not my best moment,” Delia said. She rubbed at the crease lines on her brow. “Do you think he will find it in his heart to forgive me?”
“He would be a fool not to,” Charles said, and he meant every word of it. Delia had been amazing and though she found her way into trouble, it had been because she likely felt there were no other options. She had always put others first and sometimes that landed her into distress, like when she had inadvertently stolen from him and then later his cousin.
“Thank you.” She shifted on the bench and glanced out the window as they slowly approached the station. The train had not yet arrived but it would soon. The day would be long but he looked forward to the night they had ahead of them, when he would put his little Lia to bed and plug her bottom to satisfy his intense desires.
Charles prayed his ears or cheeks had not reddened at the mere thought of seeing Delia as a little one again. If he could spend every waking moment naked and chained up next to her, he would. It was not realistic though, with his two young girls who loved to tear down the door and surprise him the moment they awoke. That morning had been a nice reprieve.
He allowed his mind to wander in the chatter of the girls and the clank of the wheels rolling beneath them. The horse’s hooves drowned out any sounds of nature and he let his thoughts travel to Delia and what he desired to do with her. Would she let him plunge his rock hard cock into her tight bottom hole? He had caught a glimpse of her precious pink pucker when he had tested her bottom with the smallest of plugs. He wanted to let his fingers dance over her quim while he felt his cock inside her bottom. It would be some time until she was ready and that assumed she was willing. Charles never pushed anything on the woman he brought into his bedroom. Each of them had always consented entirely to what they had done to them.
Charles desired to run his tongue over the length of her quim, licking her sweet and tangy nectar before he plugged her bottom. He knew what she tasted like and he craved her in a way that he never desired anyone. Had his girls not been in the carriage he would have been tempted to take her right there on the bench. They would have been forced to keep their noises to a minimum, for her reputation would have been on the line. His desire never got the better of his mind, even if he wanted it to. In all the years and women who had come through his front door, none of them had done anything remotely indecent outside of his home. The promise of secrets and protection only worked when everyone agreed and very few were present.
“Are you feeling all right?” Delia asked. She leaned forward to brush a lock of his hair from his face, her fingers grazing over his forehead. “You are burning up.”
He could not dare confess the reason was her. “I will be fine.” He smiled, wishing to assure her that he felt merely horny and not as though he had a touch of anything, but with his girls sitting beside him, very few words could be said.
“Let me be sure. Come sit beside me.” Delia patted the space on the bench beside her.
With a heavy sigh, Charles relented without too much pleading and carefully changed seats as the carriage jolted and shifted w
ith each bump. Grateful the darkness in the carriage helped hide his throbbing erection. He needed to think of something fast, anything to dampen the mood. Charles did not wish to embarrass himself the moment he stepped out of the carriage and headed toward the platform for the train.
Her fingers gently grazed over his cheek and then his forehead. “Are you sure you are feeling like yourself? We could call the day off and return home?”
“No,” Emma’s voice pleaded with them. “We wish to go to The Great Exhibition.”
Alice swiftly joined in. “No.” Her voice held a tinge of whine as she offered up her best pouty face with those fascinating green eyes.
“I will be fine.” He reached for the carriage window, lifting the shade to allow more air to flow freely through the confined space. Charles just needed a cold bucket of water splashed onto him, too bad that was not an option. He would have to wait until that evening to satisfy his desires with Delia.
Chapter 9
Her nerves had made her jumpy and her hands trembled with fear. How would her father react to the news that she desired to marry the man she worked for? It was complicated at best, but she had to see him, tell him the truth before he heard it from someone who came into his shop.
The afternoon at The Great Exhibition had been overwhelming at best. With more than one hundred thousand objects on display and every conceivable invention imaginable, Delia would have her hands full with Monday’s lesson when she went over what they saw and tried to relate it to today’s standards. She wanted them to not only appreciate the finer things they saw but learn where on the map those countries were located. It was important Delia believed to give the girls a well-rounded and full education.
Without having to say a word, Delia knew that Alice’s favorite exhibit had been the collection brought in by the German Customs Unit. There had been an array of stuffed animals, including a set of kittens taking tea. What child did not love the oddity and whimsical nature of the scene set before them? It had been near impossible to get Alice to leave the display.
“I wish to come here every year,” Emma boasted, staring up fascinated with the trees inside the glass tower. She had been reluctant to leave but Charles kept an eye on the time, glancing every so often at his antique pocket watch.
“Unfortunately that is not an option, Emma,” Charles said, taking her hand as he led them through the chaos of people toward the exit, not an easy task considering the display had lasted more than ten miles. Seeing everything in one day was not possible.
Delia delayed from telling young Emma that the exhibit would be torn down in October and the opportunity would not likely present itself again. She did not wish to dampen the mood or sour the young girl’s heart before a trip to her own father’s place.
She also held her tongue upon seeing the former nanny cleaning out the garbage for the exhibition. It had seemed Ida had found herself another job. Delia made no attempt to acknowledge the woman or let the girls catch sight of her, steering the children and Charles in the opposite direction.
Charles gripped his daughters hands the entire day, Alice on his right and Emma on his left. He had wished them to stay close to him or Delia and they had refused to leave his side.
Stepping outside, the breeze was a welcome feeling.
John, the coachman for her father sat with his back to one of the trees.
“John!” Delia called, giving a polite wave with her hand as he stood and dusted the dirt and grime from his suit.
“Miss Delia. I shall gather the carriage and we will be on our way.”
She spun around, her back toward him as he headed presumably to gather the horses and coach. Delia hoped he had not been waiting long, she had let Charles keep an eye on the time. “Miss Delia,” Charles said and smirked, teasing her. “It sounds so very strange to hear another man speak your name.”
“Are you jealous?” she asked, grinning when he did not answer her quick enough.
John, Delia’s father’s coachman brought the carriage around and helped the girls in first before offering Delia a hand inside. Charles followed, this time sitting beside her.
Surprised but pleased, she nodded, nudging him as he sat with her. “Did the children not share enough of the bench with you?” They could not have taken up more than one adult’s space but Delia suspected he preferred to sit beside her. Did he worry she would get cold feet? Already she felt anxious but there was no sense in dreading the announcement, it would do little good because it was happening.
His breath teased her ear as he leaned in to whisper, “I preferred to keep your company.”
Delia grinned. “I swear I will not tell a soul.”
Charles wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as he sat beside her. “Are you nervous? It is a big day for you.”
“Not as big as next Wednesday.” They were to be wed in just over a week. The arrangement had come in haste but it was best to go through with it, for both of their sakes. Besides, Delia had found a strange attraction to Charles in a way she never imagined possible. It was not merely their relationship that made her desire him but also what he offered her, stability, protection, and the opportunity to relinquish control and let him take care of her.
“Tell me one thing, honestly, Charles.” She kept her voice so only he could hear her.
“Of course,” he said, waiting patiently for her question.
“Are you marrying me solely to rid yourself of the humiliation from a scandal that your cousin Edward has threatened upon you?”
He turned toward Delia, removing his hand from around her shoulder to instead find the warmth of her fingers, entwining their hands together. “I am marrying you because I desire you to be my wife. Yes, I have the added benefit of buying his silence and the wedding would not have been made in such haste, but do not ever doubt my desire or feelings for you, Delia. They are as real as the sun rising every morning from the east. I promise you that what we have will change but only for the better.”
It had been exactly what she needed to hear, to quell the nerves bubbling in her stomach. The sun began to set on the carriage ride to her old childhood home. She watched outside, as they drove along the dirt trail. Outside a gaslight had marked the path along with the orange glow from the sun.
John helped the children out of the carriage first. Delia took the coachman’s hand, stepping down and onto the soft grass outside. Charles followed right behind her. He took Delia’s hand as they walked up to the front porch steps of her old quaint home.
The house was a single story and much smaller than Charles’s home, including the property of the lot. The paint had faded and was in dire need of a fresh coat. The lawn had recently been mowed, probably with the news of guests coming. A patch of flowers sat below the window to the left of the entrance. The porch, though small, offered a rocking chair that her grandfather had often sat on while reading the newspaper. It had been many years since his passing.
“Your home is lovely,” Charles said, examining the outside as he spoke.
Delia knew he was being polite and generous. He had not yet seen the inside and quite frankly, it was far beyond modest compared to how he lived. His entire bedroom could easily house her downstairs. She had not realized how small her home was until she returned. Staring at the property, it was disappointing to her to see her father live there alone. She knocked hard on the door, not wanting to just barge inside. It may have been her home recently but it was no longer where she lived. She felt it necessary to pay her father as much respect as possible on her visit, unsure how he would take the news or her momentary return.
The girls bounced with excitement, not entirely sure where they were going but thrilled with the prospect of a new place to explore.
“Now remember to behave,” he gently reminded Alice and Emma. Alice acted as though she stood upon hot coals, jumping from one foot to the other, unable to keep still. When would the girls find themselves tired from the day they had? Would it come when they rode ba
ck to Windsor or when it was time for bed? Both would be hours from now as dinner would be served in a short while.
“I am sure they will be fine,” Delia said, patting Charles’s back. What was the worst that could happen involving the two young children? Her father had nothing of any value that could not be replaced. The most expensive silks and fine linens were all locked up at the shop. The children could run around and possibly knock over a table, but so long as they kept out of the kitchen and dining room, they would probably be okay.
Heavy yet slow-trodden footsteps approached the opposite side of the door. The lock slid and unclasped before her father opened the door and glanced each of them over. “Come in, come in,” he said, trying to be friendly. He cast a strange glance at Delia. Was he disappointed in her choices? She could not read him, even after all the years she had lived with her father and thought they had been close, she was at a loss to what he must have been thinking.
“Thank you for having us on such short notice,” Charles said, as he gently guided his two girls inside and stepped in behind them with Delia.
“When would I not have my daughter? I am always glad to have her in my home,” her father said. He held out his hand to properly introduce himself. “I am Jack Amor.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you Jack. I am Charles Hayward and these are my daughters Emma and Alice.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” her father said, shaking each young girl’s hand. “I am certain I have seen you before. Have we met?”
Charles shuffled the girls inside. For two girls bouncing around on the porch, they had suddenly grown clingy and in dire need of attention. Had it been the lack of help that usually kept them entertained, or perhaps their new unfamiliar surroundings after a long day in Hyde Park?
Delia took Emma’s hand and then Alice’s. “Would you like me to show you the room I grew up in? Perhaps you might like one of my toys to play with?” Delia had kept a box of favorite treasures in the closet. She never saw a reason to part with what she most desired and now it seemed the perfect opportunity to give Charles and her father some much needed time and space.