“Actually, the moment Delilah discovered you had left, she lost all interest in him. Which makes sense as he certainly isn’t perfect.”
“He looks perfect.”
“Precisely why he was so suited to play the part of the perfect match. As it happens . . .” Gray grinned. “He’s not only a distant cousin but an impoverished one at that.”
Sam stared at his friend. “He was part of Delilah’s plan, wasn’t he?”
Gray’s brow furrowed. “You know about her plan?”
“Not the details.” He shook his head. “But it was fairly easy to figure out. She wanted to prove to me she was exactly the type of woman I had sworn to avoid. But I had no idea Charborough was nothing more than a prop.”
“And did she prove that?”
“No. But she did make me realize my pursuit of her was doomed to failure.”
“I see.” Gray adopted a casual tone. “Well, she certainly is miserable in her triumph.”
“Good.”
Gray stared. “You don’t mean that.”
“Oh, but I do. I’m tired of being gallant, Gray. I gave Delilah what she wanted. She won, if you will. Although it did seem pointless to continue to argue a position I couldn’t win. But I see no reason to be gracious about it. She got what she wanted, now she has to live with it. I’m out of her life, exactly as she wished. Good Lord, she’d been trying to get rid of me from the moment I stepped foot on the grounds of Millworth.” He blew a long breath. “Admittedly, I would feel worse than I do now if I knew she wasn’t feeling anything at all.”
“Well, now that you know she is just as unhappy as you are, perhaps you should try again.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re giving up?”
“Let’s just say that I’m admitting defeat.” He shook his head. “A smart man knows when he has lost. The woman refuses to admit her own feelings. She refuses as well to step so much as an inch off the road she has chosen. That’s too much risk for her. She’s afraid and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do to alleviate her fears.”
“I’ve never seen you give up on anything.”
“I prefer to think of it as admitting defeat.” He chuckled. “But regardless of what you call it, it is a new experience.” He sobered and leaned toward his friend. “I appreciate your concern but I’m fine.”
“She’s not.”
“Frankly, that’s not my problem and not my choice.” His tone hardened. “I have the motorwagon to concern myself with and who knows what might be around the next corner. Besides”—he shrugged—“we had nothing in common.”
Gray stared. “I’ve never seen you take this hard a stand, outside of matters of business that is.”
“You were the one who told me to think of her as an investment. Eventually one realizes an investment doesn’t have the potential you originally thought it did and you move on. I am moving on. But enough of that.” Sam studied the other man. “How is your lovely bride?”
“Terrifying but it’s almost over. You will be at Millworth for the wedding?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Sam smiled wryly. “You, old friend, are a beacon of hope in the wilderness.”
“Good Lord, I hope not.” Gray shuddered.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the unholy alliance,” a nearly forgotten female voice said. A voice Sam never thought he’d hear again and never especially wanted to.
He and Gray exchanged startled glances and rose to their feet.
“Mr. Elliott, Sam.” Lenore Stanley cast him a brilliant smile and extended her hand. “Imagine running into you here of all places.”
Sam hesitated then took her hand. “Lenore, what a surprise.”
“I am nothing if not surprising.” She turned to Gray. “And Mr. Elliott. I’m not surprised to see you here.”
“I do live here, Miss Stanley,” Gray said politely. He had never trusted Lenore and she had never liked him.
“Yes, of course.” Her gaze turned to Sam. “Are you going to ask me to join you?”
The last person he expected to see, the last person he wanted to see right now, or ever, was Lenore. Regardless, she was here. “Please do.”
Lenore took a seat at the table.
“Well, I must be getting back,” Gray said. “I shall see you the day after tomorrow, then.”
Sam nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Gray leaned close to Sam and lowered his voice for his friend’s ears alone. “Just make certain moving on does not mean moving backward.”
Sam smiled. “I have no intention of moving backward.”
Gray nodded then turned his attention to Lenore. “Good day, Miss Stanley.”
“Mr. Elliott.” She smiled pleasantly. “Sam,” she said as soon as he had taken his seat. “It’s so very good to see you again.”
“Is it?” He studied her coolly. The tall, statuesque blonde, as always in the latest Paris fashion, was as lovely as ever. “What are you doing here?”
Disappointment showed in her green eyes. “You’re not glad to see me?”
“Not especially. What are you doing here?”
“Here as in London or here as in your hotel?”
“Both.”
“Well, Mother thought London might be the perfect setting to, oh, relaunch her disappointment of a daughter on the seas of society.” She pulled off her gloves and set them on the table. “And it wasn’t at all difficult to discover where you were staying.”
His eyes narrowed. “I thought you would be engaged or married by now.”
“Goodness, Sam.” She huffed. “I realized almost immediately he was an appalling error in judgment.”
Sam raised a brow. “Not as wealthy as you thought?”
“Among other things.” Her tone softened. “Haven’t you ever made a dreadful mistake that you regret with all your heart?”
“Once,” he said in a hard tone.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I made a mistake. It’s not as if I haven’t apologized.” She gazed at him in a pleading manner that almost hid the calculation in her eyes. “Can’t you see your way clear to forgive me?”
There was a time when he couldn’t so much as consider forgiving Lenore. Now, he really didn’t care one way or the other. “All right.” He shrugged. “You’re forgiven.”
“Wonderful.” She beamed at him. “Mother will be so delighted and your mother as well. You know, it was your mother who told my mother that you were in London. I suspect she was every bit as eager as my mother to see us back together where we belong.”
“Lenore.” He drew his brows together. “We are not back together.”
“We will be,” she said confidently. “Now that I have apologized and you have forgiven me. Come now, Sam, even you have to admit we are perfect for each other. Our families, our backgrounds, what we want in life, there couldn’t be a better-suited couple than the two of us. Why, everyone says so.”
“Which doesn’t make it right.”
“It will be.” She paused. “May I be honest with you?”
“Why start now?”
“Come now, Sam.” She huffed. “That wasn’t at all nice.”
“My apologies. I do hate not being nice,” he said dryly. As much as it really didn’t matter what she had to say he was curious. “Go on.”
“It wasn’t until you broke off our engagement that I realized how very much I cared for you. You may not believe me, and given all that’s passed between us, I don’t really blame you.”
There was something about her confession that struck him as too perfect. Too well rehearsed.
She heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “I think about you all the time. Indeed, I can’t seem to think of anyone but you. Why, I even dream about you.”
“That’s very flattering.”
“It’s not meant to be flattering.” She pouted. “It’s simply the truth. And it seems to me, when one finds someone they can’t get out of their mind and their heart, someone they can’t imagine living
their life without, well, one shouldn’t give up simply because the party in question is not inclined to be, oh, cooperative.”
He stared at her for a long moment.
“It seems to me as well, when that happens, one would be a fool not to fight for what one knows, in one’s heart, is truly right. For both parties,” she added.
“I never thought I’d say this, Lenore, but you’re absolutely right.” He nodded slowly. “One would be a fool.”
“I knew you would understand.” She beamed, a gleam of triumph in her eyes.
“Lenore.” He took her hand and met her gaze directly. “I want to thank you.”
“Oh, Sam, you needn’t thank me.” She fluttered her lashes. “I’m just grateful you agree with me.”
“I do.” He nodded. “I agree completely. And I do want to thank you for helping me see things clearly.” He shook his head. “You’re absolutely right. I have been a fool.”
Her lovely brow furrowed in concern. “I don’t understand.”
“Nor do I expect you to.” He got to his feet and smiled down at her. “I wish you all the best, Lenore.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re not leaving, are you? Now?”
“I have business matters to take care of and then . . .” He grinned. “I have a wedding to attend.”
“But you’ll be back?”
“I’m afraid not.”
She stared in disbelief. “But Sam, what about us?”
“My dear Lenore,” he said in as kind a manner as he could manage. “There is no us, you made certain of that. And for that, you have my eternal gratitude.”
“But Sam—”
“Enjoy your stay in London and give my best to your mother.” He nodded and strolled away. He knew if he looked back she would be staring after him in shock and a fair amount of anger.
As much as he hadn’t been pleased at her unexpected appearance, he was grateful to her for pointing out what he should have known. He would indeed be a fool not to fight for the one woman he couldn’t get out of his mind. Or his heart.
Odd that today he could see Lenore so clearly when he hadn’t been able to do so in the past. Then of course he’d been blinded by love or what he thought was love. Looking back, he realized he had been more angry at Lenore’s betrayal than hurt. Certainly, he had thought his heart had broken but now he suspected it had merely cracked. And while it had seemed like forever at the time, upon reflection, it had healed quickly.
With Delilah, it would never heal.
Gray was right. Whether you called it admitting defeat or giving up, it wasn’t what Sam did. Wasn’t who he was. He’d lost sight of that for a moment. But this was a battle he couldn’t abandon. This was for Delilah. This was for the rest of their lives.
He grinned.
And all he really needed was a plan.
The day before the wedding . . .
“They’re not right.” Camille stared at the roses Teddy, her sisters, and her mother were arranging in large baskets together with orchids, ferns, and other greenery. The baskets would go in the chapel. Large urns filled with the same flowers would decorate the ballroom along with swags of ivy and more blossoms. “You should have called me at once. The color is entirely wrong!”
The others traded wary glances. This was not the bride’s first outburst of the day.
“Well?” Camille leveled an accusing glance at the others. “Just look at them.”
“They look beautiful, dear,” Mother said in a soothing tone. It didn’t help.
“They look wrong!” Camille’s voice rose. “Teddy, look at these. This isn’t what we ordered.” She waved in a frantic manner at the innocent roses. “They’re entirely too, too peach! They’re supposed to be a delicate, pale shade of peach to match Beryl and Delilah’s dresses.”
“They’re exactly what we ordered, Camille,” Teddy said calmly. “We thought the more intense color coupled with the white orchids would be the perfect accent for the dresses, remember?”
Suspicion narrowed Camille’s eyes. “Did we?”
“Goodness, Camille.” Beryl huffed. “She’s not making that up simply to calm you down. Although I certainly would,” she added under her breath.
“Yes.” Teddy smiled. “We did.”
With every hour closer to the wedding, Teddy grew more and more serene. She handled every difficulty from misunderstandings about the dinner menu to additional unexpected houseguests—all of which did seem fairly minor to Delilah—in a smooth, efficient fashion. Her demeanor was unruffled, her outlook optimistic, and her gentle but firm attitude was most impressive. Especially as she was the only one who seemed able to calm Camille, who grew more and more irrational with every passing hour.
Teddy took Camille’s hands and gazed into her eyes. “The flowers are perfect. Everything will be perfect.” She smiled. “Now then, do you recall what we talked about?”
Camille nodded. “When I begin to feel as if I wish to rip someone’s heart out over what the rest of you think is an insignificant detail, even if I disagree, I am to breathe deeply.”
“Very good, Camille.” Teddy’s tone was remarkably tranquil. “Now, take a deep breath.”
Camille drew a deep breath then another.
“Better?”
Camille sighed. “Much.”
“One would think marrying Grayson after all this time would be perfect enough,” Delilah muttered and turned back to the basket she’d been arranging.
“I heard that, Delilah,” Camille said sharply. Apparently the benefits of a deep breath were as fleeting as the breath itself.
“Good!”
“It’s because I’m marrying Grayson that I want it to be perfect.” Camille’s gaze locked with hers and Delilah could have sworn there were flames in her eyes. Straight from the fires of bridal hell no doubt. “And this is going to be perfect. Every detail, every aspect, every moment. Do you understand?”
“We are not the ones who have caused your problems, not that any of them were of any great importance,” Delilah snapped. “We’re doing all we can to help!”
“Deep breaths,” Teddy said sotto voce.
“We would do anything to keep you from being quite so insane.” Delilah glared at her older sister.
“We know it’s your wedding,” Beryl chimed in. “And while we do understand why you’ve become so irritating and vile—”
“Vile is rather harsh,” Mother murmured.
“Harsh and yet perfect,” Beryl said. “Because perfect is what she wants. And God help anyone who stands in the way of perfection!”
“Breathe in . . .” Teddy murmured.
“Am I asking for so much?” Camille glared. “A bit of perfection on the happiest day of my bloody life!”
Teddy sighed. “Breathe out.”
“You’ve gone mad, Camille.” Delilah shot the bride a scathing look. “Quite, quite mad!”
“I know.” Camille’s voice rose again. “And I’m sorry!”
“We can all hear you, dear,” Mother said in a chastising manner. “There’s no need to scream.”
“Well, I for one have had quite enough of it.” Delilah tossed down the shears she’d been using to clip off thorns and pulled off the heavy gloves she’d donned. “You may call me when my lovely, pleasant older sister returns and the shrew who has taken over her body and soul has been vanquished.” She stalked down the aisle and headed for the door.
“Come now, Delilah,” Camille called after her. “You can’t abandon me.”
“Why not?” Beryl said. “You abandoned her.”
“I have not! What on earth do you mean?”
Delilah turned on her heel and stared at her sisters. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t mean physically, of course.” Beryl shrugged.
“It’s not as if she has walked out on you when you needed her.”
Camille cast her a smug look.
“What I mean is that Delilah has been miserable since she managed to get rid of Sam and no on
e has paid her the least bit of attention or even acknowledged how unhappy she is,” Beryl said. “It’s not at all nice of us if we are indeed trying to be better sisters to each other.”
“I’m fine.” Delilah’s jaw clenched.
From her mother to her mad sister to her dearest friend, the expression was the same on everyone’s face. Not one of them believed her.
“I am,” she said again.
“Really, Dee?” Teddy said. “You’ve been very nearly as unpleasant as Camille. Honestly, I am enjoying Beryl’s company more than any of the rest of you. And I certainly never expected that.” Teddy glanced at Beryl. “My apologies. That sounded—”
Beryl waved off her comment. “Think nothing of it.”
“You’re absolutely right, Beryl.” Camille blew a long breath. “I am sorry, Delilah. I’ve been so—”
“Crazy? Daft? Idiotic? Demanding? Rude? Insufferable?” Mother offered in a helpful tone. “I could continue if you like.”
“That’s quite all right but thank you, Mother.” Camille sank down on a bench. “I do apologize. To all of you. I’m nervous, I suppose. Grayson and I have waited so long . . .” She cast a weak smile at the others. “I realize life together will not be perfect, which is fine. I think perfect would be dreadfully boring if there wasn’t some sort of surprise or adventure or even misadventure along the way to bring a bit of excitement to your life. But it seems like something of a portent if your wedding isn’t, well, perfect.”
“What utter rubbish.” Beryl stared at her twin. “What ever has happened to you? I know the weddings I remember the most fondly are the ones where minor disasters occurred. No, not the ones where the bride or the groom failed to appear but the ones where the bride fell in a duck pond or the groom was forced to wear an entirely inappropriate pair of trousers because his were misplaced. Furthermore, when I look at those marriages they are among the happiest I know.”
“A wedding is simply a moment in what will be a lifetime of moments. You and Grayson are meant to be together and now you’re going to be,” Mother said. “My darling girl, nothing else really matters, does it?”
“No.” Camille pulled a deep breath and looked at Delilah. “He will be coming to the wedding, you know.”
The Scandalous Adventures of the Sister of the Bride Page 32
