“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.”
The Scandalous Adventures of the Sister of the Bride Page 18
