The Scandalous Adventures of the Sister of the Bride

by Victoria Alexander

  “I see.” Camille glanced at Teddy’s notebook. “Do you have the list of everyone we have invited?”

  Teddy turned a page then slid the notebook across the table to Camille. “It starts here.”

  “Let me see.” Camille studied the list.

  Delilah didn’t like the look of that. “What are you doing?”

  “Helping you with your plan.” Camille ran her finger down the page.

  “Oh?” Delilah arched a brow. “I had the distinct feeling you were not impressed with my plan.”

  “It’s not a bad plan, as far as it goes, although I think there are any number of variables you have not considered. In truth, I have always believed in plans and in being prepared. I have had quite a few excellent plans myself in the past.” Camille’s voice was absent, her gaze on the list of names before her. “The weakness in my plans has always been that I was not fully prepared. Or perhaps they were not well thought-out,” she added under her breath.

  As evidenced by Camille’s Christmas plan to substitute a theater troupe for her family to impress a prince into a marriage proposal, not well thought-out was something of an understatement.

  “Here’s an excellent possibility. In fact there are several.” Camille glanced up. “Mother has done a very good job. Better than I would have thought.” She looked back at the guest list. “Most of these gentlemen meet all your requirements including that of age. Let me see, there is Lord—”

  “Goodness, Camille, that’s enough.” Delilah blew a long breath. “Any other time, I would quite relish this discussion and perhaps later we can look at every eligible gentleman on the guest list and debate the possibilities. But right now I would really rather discuss something, anything, else.”

  Teddy cast her a sympathetic look. But then Teddy, far more than Camille, could understand how the fear of becoming penniless might well take the fun out of debating the relative merits of one prospective husband over another.

  “Of course.” Camille smiled affectionately at her younger sister. “There’s time enough for this later. Why, there’s no hurry at all, really.” She turned to Teddy. “And aren’t we supposed to be discussing the flower arrangements?”

  Teddy nodded, pulled her notebook closer, and flipped through the pages. “We’ve ordered nearly everything at this point but unfortunately, the . . .”

  Perhaps Camille did understand, at least a little. After all, it was one thing to wish to marry a man with a suitable income and position and quite another to need to. Regardless, Delilah had no intention of leaping into an ill-advised marriage simply to save herself from poverty. She did hope for a certain amount of affection in a new match. If nothing else she wanted to like the next man she married. She intended to spend the rest of her life with him after all. But as much as she wanted to marry again, and there was no doubt as to the type of man she wished to wed, the idea of having to do so for financial reasons did indeed make her feel like a fortune hunter. Still, she had no intention of becoming a poor relation either.

  No, Camille was right. There was no hurry at all. Besides, this claim on Phillip’s estate was more than likely bogus and would be settled any day now. Once the sense of imminent disaster hanging over her like a black cloud had abated she could look for a new husband unfettered by the slightest doubt. Nonetheless, she fully intended to take advantage of the opportunity afforded by Camille’s wedding and accompanying social events to inspect suitable candidates. It would be foolish to let this opportunity slip away. She would engage them in intelligent conversation. She would be charming and flirtatious, she had long enjoyed being flirtatious, and by the time Camille was wed, Delilah would be headed in the direction of the altar as well.

  All things considered, and barring any unforeseen complications, it was an excellent plan.

  “There you are, Camille,” Grayson’s voice sounded in the doorway behind Delilah. “Clement said I would find you on the terrace.”

  Her sister’s eyes lit with pleasure at the sight of her fiancé and the slightest twinge of what might have been envy stabbed Delilah. She ignored it. It was all well and good that Camille and Grayson had found love, and Delilah wished them nothing but happiness, but she had no interest in love. Not this time.

  “It’s such a lovely day, it was a shame to stay indoors.” Camille stood and moved toward him.

  Delilah twisted in her chair to get a look at the newcomer. But he stood in the shadows of the doorway, a step behind Grayson. He was tall, Delilah could tell that much. But then it did seem that all of Grayson’s Americans were tall. Apparently, they grew them that way.

  Grayson raised Camille’s hand to his lips and gazed into her eyes in that manner he had that made Teddy and even Delilah want to sigh with the sheer romance of it. “And do you remember my good friend—”

  “Of course I do.” Camille pulled her hand from her fiancé’s and stepped around him. “It hasn’t been that long.”

  “Delighted to see you again, Lady Lydingham,” the American said smoothly. Camille blocked her view and it was impossible to get a good look at him. His voice was vaguely familiar but then Americans did sound alike. “I must apologize for my early arrival. I hope it won’t be too much of an inconvenience.”

  Delilah and Teddy exchanged skeptical looks.

  “Not at all. Millworth is huge and there is more than enough room to spare,” Camille said in her best gracious hostess voice. “But you must be famished from your travels. Do join us and I will ring for something for you to eat.”

  Delilah reached for her cup and drained the last of her tea.

  “If it’s no trouble,” the American said.

  “None whatsoever.” Camille returned to the table. “Allow me to introduce Lady Theodosia Winslow. She is coordinating the wedding plans. And I’m not sure if you met my sister when we were in New York.”

  Delilah affixed a pleasant smile, turned her head, and looked up.

  And stared into the dark brown eyes of her grand adventure.

  And worst nightmare.

  Chapter Three

  Her breath caught.

  Her stomach lurched.

  Her cup slipped from her hand.

  “Dee!” Teddy jumped to her feet.

  Delilah’s gaze jerked from Mr. Russell—Mr. Samuel Russell—to the tabletop.

  “Damnation,” she muttered then winced. She never cursed. Never in front of others and rarely to herself. But if ever anything called for a reaction stronger than an oh my this was definitely it.

  “Goodness, Delilah!” Camille gasped, whether at her sister’s blasphemy or the dropped cup Delilah didn’t know and didn’t care. “It’s a good thing your cup was empty or you would have drenched us all.”

  “Yes, of course. My apologies,” Delilah said with a weak smile and was grateful she could manage that.

  A footman hurried forward to tidy the table. In the back of her mind, Delilah noted how fortunate dropping her cup was as it gave her time to compose herself. Unfortunately, not nearly enough.

  This was Grayson’s friend? His good friend and occasional partner? Not the employee of one of his business associates? Obviously she was not the only one who had not been completely honest in New York. Why, the beast had practically lied to her!

  “Delilah,” Grayson said. “This is my good friend Mr. Samuel Russell. You might have met him in New York.”

  “One meets so many people.” She could manage no more than a half-hearted smile. What in the name of all that was holy was he doing here? Here? In England? At Millworth Manor? Her family’s home? In her world? Precisely where he didn’t belong. Where she had never wanted to see him. Where she had never expected to see him. She drew a deep breath. “When one travels that is.”

  “And it is hard to remember one among so many,” Mr. Russell said in an altogether too smooth manner.

  “Indeed and I must apologize, I’m afraid I don’t recall meeting you.” Delilah adopted a pleasant tone and struggled to appear calm. The worst thing about
lies and deception, no matter how relatively innocent, was that inevitably they returned to bite you when you were least prepared for them. And she certainly wasn’t prepared for this. For him.

  “But I believe we did meet. Briefly. At the ball if I remember correctly.” He cast her an innocent smile that would have been most convincing to anyone watching but nonetheless spoke volumes to her. “Lady Hargate, isn’t it?”

  “It is.” Delilah nodded, a million thoughts running through her mind, most of them dire and dreadful and quite beneath her.

  Yes indeed, it would be best if she acted as if they had never met. Then there would be no speculation as to why she hadn’t mentioned him before. It was highly suspicious when one thought about it. She raised her chin slightly. She could do this. Why, already the shock of Mr. Russell’s appearance was shifting to irritation at his unexpected and unwanted presence. The man would ruin everything.

  “Oh, you needn’t stand on formality,” Camille said. “We are all friends and family here. It would be most awkward if you were to refer to us all by our titles.”

  “And yet completely proper,” Delilah said.

  “Don’t be silly.” Camille shot her a sharp look then smiled at Mr. Russell. “You must forgive my sister. While she is the youngest in the family she is oddly enough rather stuffy when it comes to things like propriety.”

  “Someone has to be,” Delilah murmured. It was at moments like this that she quite valued the importance of propriety, the barriers and the protection it provided.

  Camille ignored her. “So please do call me Camille and this is Teddy.”

  “How delightful to meet you, Mr. Russell.” Teddy extended a graceful hand to him. “I have always been fascinated by Americans, although I’m afraid you’re the first that I have met.”

  Mr. Russell took her hand and gazed into Teddy’s green eyes as if she was the only person present. “I hope you won’t be disappointed then.”

  The man was obviously an outrageous and well-practiced flirt. Not at all surprising. He had certainly flirted in New York. Still, it was most annoying and could be added to a fast-growing list of complaints against him, although admittedly the most significant was simply that he was here. Nonetheless, Delilah had the absurd impulse to smack his hand away from her friend’s.

  Teddy tilted her head to one side in a flirtatious manner of her own. “I can’t imagine that I would be.”

  He laughed, that deep, overly amused laugh that had burned itself into Delilah’s memory. “I will do everything in my power to make certain of that. And my friends call me Sam.”

  “Sam it is then.” Teddy smiled up at him.

  Delilah’s urge to smack Mr. Russell shifted to her friend. Which made no sense whatsoever. Teddy could certainly flirt with whomever she chose.

  “As I do hope we will be friends.” Did Teddy really just flutter her eyelashes?

  “And apparently you remember Delilah,” Grayson said.

  Mr. Russell released Teddy’s hand and turned to Delilah. Without thinking, she offered her hand. It would have drawn attention had she not. “Mr. Russell.”

  He took her hand and gazed into her eyes. But then he would, wouldn’t he? “Sam.”

  “Are we to be friends then as well?” she said in a tone sharper than she had intended.

  “I do hope so.” A slow, wicked smile curved his lips, although she might have been the only one who thought it wicked. But then she was the only one who knew just how wicked this man could be. And he was the only one who knew of her own wicked tendencies. “One can always use another friend.”

  “Yes, well, I suppose.” She tugged surreptitiously at her hand but he held it fast. The man was not going to make this easy for her.

  Laughter danced in his eyes. “I have to admit, I am disappointed that you do not remember our meeting. As I said, it was at the ball. But admittedly it was little more than an introduction.”

  “Was it?” she said lightly and tried again to pull her hand from his. “Surely you can forgive me for failing to remember. Everyone was in costume after all.” She drew her brows together. “You were dressed as . . .”

  “A pirate.” His amused gaze bored into hers as if daring her to deny their meeting. The blasted man was playing some sort of game with her. Well, two could play at this game.

  “A pirate, let me think.” She paused as if trying to remember. Not that she had forgotten for a moment. Samuel Russell had worn the guise of a pirate as naturally as if he had just stepped off the deck of a marauding ship. Dashing and dangerous and altogether irresistible. Teddy wasn’t the only one who read the occasional romantic novel. She shook her head regretfully. “There were so many pirates. It did seem there was a pirate lurking in every corner. So appropriate for Americans really.”

  His brow rose. “A compliment, Lady Hargate?”

  “Delilah,” Camille said.

  “Yes, of course, you must call me Delilah.” She forced a pleasant note to her voice. “I should think only an American would take being a pirate as a compliment. However”—she shrugged—“you may take it as you wish.”

  “And only a fool would prefer an insult to a compliment and I am no fool.” The warning in his voice was so subtle again she was probably the only one to notice.

  No, he might well be an annoying, deceitful beast of a man but he was definitely no fool. She wasn’t sure she could say the same about herself.

  “And so I thank you, Delilah.”

  There was something about the way he said her name that was at once sensual and irritating. And unnerving. She tugged again at her hand.

  “There were a number of Dresden shepherdesses as well,” he added. “And yet I’m fairly sure I remember you.”

  “A shepherdess?” Teddy’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Dee?”

  “I can’t imagine anyone not remembering.” Grayson chuckled.

  “It wasn’t the sort of thing I ever imagined my younger sister wearing. Beryl perhaps but not Delilah.” Camille leaned toward Teddy and lowered her voice. “I daresay there were gentlemen who, upon seeing Delilah as a shepherdess, would have willingly volunteered to be sheep.”

  Delilah gasped. “Camille!”

  “The bodice was exceptionally low in cut and the hem scandalously high,” Camille said to Teddy. “Why, one could see her ankles.”

  “It was a costume.” Delilah yanked her hand from Mr. Russell’s. It wasn’t bad enough that her mistake had appeared from out of nowhere but now her sister had to chastise her as well for her choice of costume. This day was not getting any better. “And as such, not the least bit inappropriate.”

  “But no less shocking,” Camille added.

  “And entirely out of character.” Teddy studied her friend curiously.

  “Perhaps you have forgotten, but it was a masked ball. Those attending were expected to remain anonymous, for the most part. It was, as well, in a country where I knew no one, a country I do not expect to ever see again. Besides . . .” She considered the other women for a moment then drew a deep breath. “It does seem to me that on occasion in one’s life, one should throw caution to the winds and do something completely unexpected.”

  Camille’s eyes widened in surprise. “Well, yes, perhaps. I simply never expected you to throw caution anywhere.”

  “But you really don’t know her very well,” Grayson said. Camille turned an annoyed eye on him. “Although, you have been giving it a great deal of effort,” he added quickly.

  “She’s right, of course.” Teddy nodded. “It was a costume and perhaps if one has never thrown caution to the winds in any manner, starting with something as innocuous as a costume is the way to go about it.” She cast Delilah a supportive smile. “A rather restrained way really.”

  Camille nodded. “Like dipping no more than one’s toes in the pool of impropriety.”

  “It’s not as if you did something truly scandalous like oh, dancing naked in a fountain,” Teddy said.

  A faint hint of discomfort wa
shed across Camille’s face. She or Beryl or perhaps both had probably done far worse. There were any number of things about her sisters’ lives that Delilah didn’t know and wasn’t sure she wished to.

  Teddy continued. “It was only a costume after all, and not as if Dee’s flinging of caution resulted in scandal.”

  “Or an untoward incident.” Grayson nodded.

  “Or an adventure,” Mr. Russell offered, again in a deceptively innocent manner and again she wanted to smack him. The man was obviously intending to make a habit of twisting everything that was said into a reminder of their adventure.

  “And well worth it, I’d say. She did make an exquisite Dresden shepherdess.” Grayson grinned at her and gratitude toward her future brother-in-law washed through her. But then, even when her sisters had barely acknowledged her existence, Grayson had always been nice to her. There was a time when she had thought he was entirely too good for Camille. And not all that long ago.

  “You did look lovely.” Camille smiled.

  “Even, dare I say . . .” Mr. Russell—Samuel—paused. She absolutely refused to think of him as Sam. “Unforgettable?”

  Unforgettable? Ha!

  “How very kind of you to say so,” Delilah said politely. “Which makes it all the worse that I don’t remember you. At all.”

  He gasped and clasped his hand over his heart in a dramatic manner. “I am wounded to the quick to have slipped the memory of so lovely a shepherdess. And yet”—he grinned—“I am certain I shall recover and bravely carry on.” He paused for a moment. “Yes, yes, there you have it. Completely recovered now and wondering if perhaps I mistook you for one of the other shepherdesses in attendance.”

  Delilah’s jaw clenched but she managed a smile. “Perhaps.”

  “No, no. I’m certain of it now.” Samuel nodded. “It was definitely another shepherdess I met. I never met you at all.”

  Grayson frowned at his friend. “But I thought you said—”