“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 make
s 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 smi
led. “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.”
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.
The Scandalous Adventures of the Sister of the Bride Page 17
