“I wish I was.” Gray shook his head. “If anything I’m being kind.” He glanced from side to side as if afraid of being overheard and lowered his voice. “Did you know the wrong shoes can ruin an otherwise perfect wedding? And the shoes that Camille ordered from London are apparently wrong. Which seems to be part of a conspiracy to completely ruin her life. Did you know, if you point out in a manner designed to be helpful, that the shoes look fine to you, you will bring the wrath of a thousand furies down upon your head?”
“I would have guessed that one.”
“Well, I am not so astute.” Gray winced at the memory. “Did you know that if the dresses her sisters are wearing as her attendants are not the right shade of peach they will clash with the satin flowers on her dress? Peach, Sam, peach!” He shook his head. “I thought it was a fruit.”
Sam bit his lip to keep from laughing. Poor Gray was clearly out of his element.
“Did you know if some of the people coming to this wedding, people I’ve never met by the way, are forced to sit next to one another at dinner it could ignite the kind of feud that brings down nations?”
Sam choked back a laugh.
“Camille says it has to be perfect. Everything. Every detail, every aspect, every minuscule point. Perfect.”
“But she’s been through this before.”
Gray waved off the comment. “She says this is different. She says this wedding is much more important because it’s a miracle that we found our way back to each other. She says this is the beginning of the rest of our lives, therefore it has to be perfect. And woe be it to anyone who stands between her and perfection. I feel almost as sorry for Teddy as I do for myself. I never realized part and parcel of the work of the person planning the event was to keep the bride sane. Fortunately, Teddy is remarkably calm and seems to have everything well in hand.” His eyes narrowed. “But Beryl keeps egging Camille on and delights in doing so.”
In spite of his best efforts, Sam laughed.
“This is not amusing!” Gray had a look of panic about him.
“It will be over soon.”
“Eight days and nine hours, more or less.” Gray blew a long breath. “I’m not sure I can survive until then. Worst of all . . .”
He’d never seen his friend like this. Gray was right. He shouldn’t be amused. But he couldn’t help it. “I can’t wait to hear what’s worst of all.”
“I can’t stop thinking, I know it’s absurd but, still, I can’t get it out of my head. . . .”
“What?”
“What if she stays like this?” Genuine fear shone in Gray’s eyes. “What if this is just the beginning? What if this wedding has pushed her over the edge into real insanity or revealed her true self?”
“Well,” Sam said in an offhand manner. “You can always tell her you’ve changed your mind and call off the wedding.”
“Now you’re insane.” Gray scoffed. “First of all, the murderous look in her eyes would then be directed at me. And if she didn’t murder me, Beryl certainly would. She’s wanted to do so for years. Beryl would jump at the chance to shoot me or, more likely, draw and quarter me. Slowly. And with a great deal of pleasure on her part. No, believe me, Sam, it’s better to take my chances on life with a madwoman than to run afoul of Beryl.”
“Good man.” Sam clapped his friend on the back. “Now, do you want me to tell you what happened in London?”
“Absolutely, but before we get into that . . .” Gray smiled in a wicked manner. “There’s a price to be paid for your absence from the manor, even if we both know you’re only trying to avoid Delilah.”
“Not at all,” Sam lied.
Avoiding Delilah until he could figure out exactly what to do about her had seemed like a good idea in the beginning. It had been four days since he’d so much as gotten a glimpse of her and he suspected she was avoiding him as well. Unfortunately, he was no closer to coming up with an answer for what to do and he couldn’t avoid her forever. Nor did he really want to. Nights were the worst. He lay in his bed tossing and turning and thinking about how she was only steps away from him. Damn it all, he missed the woman. Missed talking to her and teasing her and even arguing with her. Still, he had only one idea and it might be worse than doing nothing at all.
“My thoughts are entirely engaged in trying to help Jim get this blasted machine back in perfect working condition. The fact that in doing so, I am also avoiding awkward encounters with Delilah, just happens to be an unexpected benefit.”
“Then you won’t mind joining us tonight for dinner although you really have no choice. Call it a command performance if you will.”
“I’d be delighted.”
“While you were gone yesterday, Lord Radnor, his wife, and his two daughters arrived. Lord Radnor is Lord Briston’s second cousin I believe, or something like that. The daughters are relatively attractive and looking for husbands.”
“Aren’t they all?” Sam murmured.
“Also joining our ranks are Mr. Martin, his mother, and sister. She is in the market for a husband as well. No idea how they’re related but they are. Or at least I think they are. Oh yes, and Lord Latimer and Lord Dantrey are expected this afternoon.”
“That is quite a crowd.”
“That’s just the beginning. But it does appear that the hunt is on.”
“The hunt?”
“The spouse hunt. There is nothing like a wedding to spur the forces of matchmaking into full-blown splendor.” He grimaced. “Camille confided to me, before she went insane, that her mother had made certain there was a substantial number of eligible gentlemen about. Although I gather the very dashing Lord Charborough was a last-minute addition.”
“Oh?” Sam raised a brow.
“Don’t look at me like that. I have no idea why.” He paused. “Although if one is hoping to encourage suitable matches . . .”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “He’s perfect, isn’t he?”
“I suppose that depends on how you define perfect.” Gray shrugged. “He does have a castle I hear.”
“Of course he does.”
“But when you look at it, he’s no more perfect than Latimer or Dantrey or Martin.”
“I thought it was Mr. Martin?”
“It is, but he is the heir to an earldom.”
“Imagine my surprise.”
“So . . .” Gray adopted an overly nonchalant manner. “No queries about Delilah? No wondering if she is pining away without your presence?”
Sam raised a brow. “Is she?”
“It’s hard to tell what with all the wedding anxiety in the air. She seems a bit on edge but then they all do.” Gray studied him curiously. “I gather from your tone you have yet to decide what to do about the fair Delilah.”
“You have always been perceptive.” Sam paused. “I have given it some thought.”
“Some?”
“All right, aside from the motorwagon I’ve thought of nothing but her.”
“And?”
“I’m an intelligent man. I’ve built what some would call a small empire. You would think such a man would come up with some way to win the heart of the woman he loves.”
“Love has nothing to do with intelligence.”
“I accused her of falling in love with me. I never told her I had fallen in love with her.” Sam shrugged. “Maybe I should tell her how I feel.”
“That’s it, that’s the right attitude. Lay your heart out before her like a rug and hope she doesn’t grind it into the ground.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Not me.” Gray shook his head. “I am too busy dealing with a lunatic bride to worry about what you are going to do. You are on your own.”
“Always good to know where you stand.”
“I do what I can.” Gray paused. “You should probably do something though, even if it’s wrong. You can’t keep avoiding her and hope all will fall into place. It won’t.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“I
know you have your own problems but do promise me you will be at dinner. That will be one less thing for Camille to be annoyed about.”
Sam chuckled. “Believe me, I don’t want to draw her ire.”
“Yes, well, we would hate to distract her from the true villain of the piece, which is apparently imperfection in whatever form it might take. Be it in the wrong color or the wrong seating or the wrong shoes.”
“At least it’s not the wrong groom.”
“There is that.” Gray heaved a resigned sigh. “So tell me, how did things go in London?”
“Better than expected.” Sam briefly explained that they had found an ideal location to rent and Jim was even now making arrangements to transport the vehicle to London.
“That’s one less thing to worry about.” Gray stared apprehensively in the direction of the manor. “I suppose I should be getting back.”
“Try not to sound so eager.”
“I am eager for this to be over.” He squared his shoulders. “Eight days and nine hours, more or less, and Camille will be my wife and either once again be the woman I love or . . .” He shuddered. “I can’t even begin to think what or might be.”
Sam chuckled. “She’ll be fine. Someday you’ll look back on this and—”
“What? Laugh?” Gray shook his head. “Only if we survive.”
“You will.” Sam cast him an encouraging smile. “Aren’t you the man who told me love was worth the risk?”
“I didn’t know I’d be taking my life in my hands when I said it.”
“But you meant it.”
“Of course I did.” Gray drew a deep breath. “This is just a momentary aberration. It will all be over soon enough.”
“And well worth it.”
“I keep telling myself that,” he said under his breath. “Dinner is at the usual time. Aside from the fact that Camille wants you there, I could use an ally.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“I would given half the chance.” He cast his friend a halfhearted smile and headed toward the manor.
Gray was right, Sam had to do something. Declaring himself to Delilah didn’t strike him as the best move but he had no other ideas.
It wasn’t bad enough that the woman laid claim to his heart; she had turned him into an idiot as well.
Delilah greeted him politely enough when they gathered in the parlor before dinner and then pointedly turned her attention to Charborough. Sam was introduced to all the other members of the party and scarcely had any time at all to dwell on the way Delilah flirted with Charborough. He’d never in his life been jealous yet jealousy was surely what he was feeling now. Still, two could play that game and he turned his attentions toward the lovely Radnor sisters and the equally charming Miss Martin. None of whom seemed to find his being American to be anything other than delightful. Under other circumstances, he would have found the three young ladies most amusing and would have enjoyed their vying for his favor. But tonight, there was only one woman on his mind. Delilah, of course, was busy laughing at anything Charborough said or tapping her fan flirtatiously on his arm or even gazing into his eyes. Worst of all, Charborough seemed every bit as taken with her.
The conversation at dinner ebbed and flowed around the table with no less than half a dozen different discussions ongoing at any minute. Delilah was seated across from Sam and close to the head of the table between Gray and Charborough. Obviously, no accident. Lady Dunwell was on Sam’s right, Miss Martin on his left. She seemed quite taken with Lord Latimer on her far side, giving Sam plenty of opportunity to watch Delilah engage Charborough in what appeared to be verging on intimate conversation.
“I must admit, Mr. Russell, I’m most intrigued by the idea of your motorwagon,” Lady Dunwell said. “I should very much like to ride in it.”
“It’s not ready for a ride at the moment, I’m afraid.” Sam shook his head. “And we’re moving it to London tomorrow.”
“I see.” She paused. “But you will be back for the wedding, won’t you, Mr. Russell?”
“Oh, I’m just accompanying the vehicle. I’ll only be gone for the day.” He smiled. “And it’s Sam.”
“Excellent, Sam, and you should call me Beryl.” She leaned closer in a confidential manner. “I’ve always found it awkward when people sharing the same house stand on formalities. Tell me something, Sam.”
“Yes?”
“Camille said you and Grayson might be seeking investors in your motorwagon company.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s one of the things we’ve discussed.”
“Should you decide to pursue that course of action, I would be very interested.”
“Would you?” His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
She laughed. “My goodness, Sam, you needn’t look at me with quite that much suspicion.”
“I am sorry.” He grabbed his glass and took a quick swallow of wine. “You simply took me by surprise. You understand it is a risky venture.”
“But what’s worthwhile in life isn’t a risk?” Her direct gaze met his and it struck him that the motorwagon might not be the only thing she was talking about. “I’m always interested in something new and exciting.”
“And your husband?”
“Oh, Lionel is quite a progressive sort. He’ll be here a day or two before the wedding. Perhaps the two of you can talk then.” She sipped her wine and studied him over the rim of her glass. “But you should know, I have my own funds. And while I would certainly discuss something like this with him, as I do value his opinion, I would as well do as I wished.”
Sam chuckled. “That is progressive of him.”
“I know.” She cast him a smug smile. “It’s one of his best features.”
He laughed.
“Grayson, no doubt, has filled your head with all sorts of half-truths about me.” Amusement twinkled in her blue eyes, the exact same shade as her younger sister’s.
Sam chose his words with care. “He has mentioned you.” “He’s wise to be wary of me.”
“You don’t like him.”
“Goodness, Sam, I’ve known the man all of my life. I simply adore Grayson. But if you tell him that, I’ll deny it and call you a lying lunatic.”
Sam laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“See that you do.” She paused. “I like Grayson, I always have but as much as I like him I love my sisters. He broke Camille’s heart long ago and I suppose as she broke his heart as well, one could argue that they are on even footing.”
“They seem to have gotten past that.”
She nodded. “In truth, I’m delighted they have found each other again. She trusts him implicitly. I’m not sure I will until they have been married, happily mind you, some forty years or so.”
He chuckled. “A bit long, don’t you think?”
“Very well then.” She heaved a resigned sigh. “Thirty years. But no less.”
He laughed.
“I am very loyal, Sam.”
“Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“You would be wise to remember that.” Her tone hardened. “I only want what’s best for my sisters. Both of them.” She paused for a moment. “I’ve been remiss in that, in the past, when it comes to Delilah.”
His gaze strayed down the table to Delilah. “I understand you’ve never been close.”
“It’s easy when one has a twin who is also your closest friend, to forget that she is not your only sister.” She shook her head. “Oddly enough, as I rarely have regrets about anything, I do regret that. And I intend to do better.” She paused. “He’s perfect for her, you know.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, his gaze still on Delilah.
“He’s everything she wants. Or perhaps he’s only everything she thinks she wants. Or thinks she should want.”
“Perhaps?”
“I’m not a fool, Sam,” Beryl said coolly. “As perfect as Charborough may be . . .” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Sh
e’s in love with you.”
“I know.”
“Are you in love with her?”
His gaze snapped to Beryl’s. “And if I am?”
“Then you should do something about it.”
“Well, I hope you have some ideas as to what that might be because I do not,” he said in a sharp tone. “My apologies. I didn’t mean—”
“Think nothing of it.” She waved off his apology. “But you might wish to smile and look as if we are discussing something no more significant than, oh, say, the weather.”
“Of course.” He smiled.
“And you have told me what I need to know.”
“I suppose I have.”
“It won’t be easy,” she warned.
“It hasn’t been thus far. I don’t expect that to change now.”
“She is convinced that the differences between you are too great to overcome. I imagine that just makes it more of a challenge. And Sam.” She laid her hand on his arm and gazed into his eyes. “You strike me as a man well suited to a challenge.”
He nodded. “I am.”
“And you rarely lose.”
“Rarely.”
“Oh, I do like it that you didn’t say never. I don’t think one should trust a man who doesn’t acknowledge that he is not infallible. Now then.” She glanced down the table at Delilah, who was paying them no notice whatsoever. No, she was entirely engrossed in whatever Charborough was saying. “What is your plan?”
“I don’t really have a plan.”
“Are you mad?” Her eyes widened in disbelief but her smile remained on her face. “One must always have a plan. Delilah is exceptionally fond of plans.”
“I was thinking that I should just declare myself and ask her to marry me. . . .”
Beryl stared. “That’s your plan?”
“It’s all I’ve got,” he said weakly.
“I must say it’s not much of a plan. It’s not especially original and I can’t imagine it will work although it is a beginning, I suppose. But you should still try to think of another plan when this one fails.” A vague hint of indecision flashed through her eyes. “You should probably know, Delilah does has a plan.”
He studied her closely. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”
The Scandalous Adventures of the Sister of the Bride Page 30
