“Did I?” she murmured.
Pru turned to face her. “Are you going to tell me what’s happened?” When she didn’t immediately respond, she continued. “Are you going to tell me why you’re suddenly betrothed to Lord Evil?”
“Hush,” she said quickly, peeking around to see who might have heard. “I do wish you all would stop using that name.” She arched her brows. “I understand Louisa and Addie saying it as a joke, but that sort of immaturity is beneath you, Prudence.”
Prudence just stared at her evenly, scrutinizing her expression. “What is going on, Dee?”
Oh nothing. I’ve just been alone with an overbearing oaf who believes my fiancé to be a murderer and a smuggler.
She frowned. It was the smuggler bit that had gotten to her. Murderer? The very accusation had felt too far-fetched. Murderers did not exist amongst the ton. He might have been a bit fearsome, but really…accusing Lord Everley of murder had just been melodrama on Mr. Calloway’s part.
That man ought to be the one engaged to Louisa, not the proper, practical Lord Tumberland.
The thought of the stranger and Louisa made her inexplicably angry.
“Delilah, do try and smile,” Prudence murmured. “You look like an evil queen from a fairy tale, ready to smite the townspeople.”
Delilah blinked and looked around to see that indeed she had been garnering some stares from passersby. She plastered a small smile on her face and lifted her chin.
“You know we all have questions,” Pru started again.
“Why do you think I haven’t returned to the school?” she returned.
Pru huffed. “We’re just worried about you.”
“You have nothing to fear.” Delilah’s voice was pleasingly cool, wonderfully collected. “I was born and raised to marry someone of great fortune. My father has chosen Lord Everley.”
“And you are all right with that,” Prudence said, doubt clear in her voice.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Addie said—”
Delilah waved aside the protest. “Oh please. Addie is nearly as dramatic as Louisa, and of course she was beside herself when her brother was in danger. Can we really trust her word on the matter?”
Delilah didn’t have to look over to know Prudence was scowling at her. “Do you really believe that? Do you truly believe you have nothing to fear or do you just not want to admit that you might be wrong?”
Delilah opened her mouth to verbally smack down her friend but no words came out. She blamed it on the strange encounter back in Everley’s office.
Of course she’d been rattled by a run-in with a burglar. The thought of his large frame behind her, holding her tight… She shivered, but not from fear.
“Are you all right?”
Delilah huffed. “I wish people would stop asking me that. What will it take to prove that I am fine?”
Prudence was silent for too long before turning to face the dance floor with a sigh. “I do not know, Dee. What will it take for you to believe that?”
She shot her friend a glare. She hated when Pru got all high and mighty on her like this.
She hated it even more when Pru was right.
She’d been in a fog of disbelief these past two weeks as she let her stepmother arrange the wedding, and avoided seeing the people who might make her doubt her new future.
Delilah sniffed as she watched Addie and Tolston smiling at one another like lovesick fools. Louisa and Tumberland had already left the dance floor and were headed toward the balcony.
She had never expected a love match, and as such had never hoped for one. Why dream of something one cannot have? It would only lead to disappointment. She’d always known the day would come when she would marry a man who did not fit any girlish dream for a husband.
She ought to be grateful that Everley wasn’t old enough to be her grandfather, or so overweight he could hardly move, or so unattractive he made women flee the room.
No, as far as all that went, she was quite lucky. As far as looks and age went, her fiancé was better than she’d expected.
But his character…?
She found her gaze flitting back toward the hallway. He had not yet reappeared. What was his business, exactly?
Was she allowed to ask?
It was Prudence’s question that clung to her now and made her mind race. What would put her at ease?
She knew better than to trust Addie and Louisa’s suspicions, and she shouldn’t let some stranger’s accusations get to her either.
But they had.
Mr. Calloway’s words and his voice and his touch. Everything about him had gotten to her. The whole experience had rattled her. It had shaken her out of her fog. And now, despite her best efforts, she couldn’t go back. His grin just before he’d disappeared from view haunted her.
Stupid, arrogant man.
His attitude was one of challenge, and she had always risen to a challenge.
So, he thought she needed saving? She would see about that.
“You have a look about you, Dee…” Prudence was watching her closely.
“Oh yes?” she asked mildly. “And what look is that?”
“It’s very similar to the look Louisa gets when she’s about to stir up trouble.”
Delilah gave a huff of indignation. “I am nothing like Louisa. I do not seek out mischief.”
But she did seek out the truth. She’d never been one to sit by meekly and watch her life unfold, and she certainly wouldn’t start now.
She had no idea what his murder allegations were about—likely a duel gone wrong, or something to that effect. It was the smuggling charge that stuck with her and made her uneasy. Such an odd thing to accuse a gentleman like Lord Everley of, particularly without proof.
She pursed her lips as she glanced toward the hallway. Of course, that was likely why he was here. Looking for proof.
An idea took root and began to grow.
“Oh yes, you definitely look like Louisa right now,” Prudence said quietly beside her.
Delilah shushed her halfheartedly. This wasn’t mischief or mere curiosity. This was her duty…to Everley. She’d seek out the proof that the burglar was seeking, and when she failed to find it, she would know it with certainty.
She could put her own mind to rest and if she ever had the misfortune of running into Mr. Calloway again she would be able to put him soundly in his place.
She smiled.
“I’m worried about you,” Prudence said when she’d turned back to face her friend.
“Don’t be,” she said. “I’ve never felt better.”
This, she realized, was the truth. Despite the startling events of this evening, or perhaps because of them…she had a mission. An agenda.
She had a challenge.
For the first time in weeks, she was beginning to feel like herself again.
6
Delilah’s smile never faltered as she confronted her stepmother in the family’s drawing room. “Oh, but I should very much like to join you.”
Her stepmother stared at her, her eyes blank as always. She likely hadn’t expected a battle, not after Delilah had sat by so meekly throughout wedding plans to date. But today everything was different.
“Very well. If you wish it,” the baroness said.
“I do.” Delilah followed her stepmother to the waiting carriage and they made their way together to Everley’s townhouse in Mayfair.
The air smelled of rotting flowers as the unseasonable heat crept over the city, and Delilah did her best not to take it as a sign that the world seemed to have been burning with the flames of hell from the moment she’d agreed to marry the devil.
Lord Everley.
She pressed her lips together in annoyance at her own imagination. She was here to prove that Louisa, Addie, and most definitely that stranger had gotten it all wrong. Surely her fiancé wasn’t so bad as he was made out to be.
Right?
The nagging worry would be al
layed as well once she’d cleared her mind of their dramatic notions.
Everley greeted them warmly and some of her apprehensions faded even further at the attention he paid to her and her stepmother. His manners were impeccable.
Smugglers surely did not have impeccable manners. Murderers, perhaps, but not common criminals.
She smiled beatifically over tea, she answered his enquiries as to her health and her experience at the engagement ball with pleasure. See? This was a man she ought to be proud to marry. This was the man her father had chosen for her—from his sickbed, of course, but she was certain he’d done his due diligence.
He would hardly hand her over to a murderer.
She sipped her tea and worked herself into a righteous anger over the matter. Her husband-to-be was being unfairly persecuted and it was up to her to make this right.
She imagined the look on that brute Mr. Calloway’s face when she slapped him across the face with her evidence. Or her lack of evidence.
Either way, she would show him who needed saving. And it wasn’t her.
Delilah Clemmons needed no help from anyone. Even less so once she was secure in a marriage to a man as wealthy as a king. Then she’d have power. She’d like to see Mr. Calloway try to talk to tell her as if she were a helpless princess then.
“Delilah?” Her stepmother eyed her oddly and Delilah realized she hadn’t been paying attention.
“Yes? What? Er…Pardon me.” She set her teacup down.
Her stepmother’s smile was placid. Cool. Her father had married the epitome of grace and beauty in the hopes that she would be a good role model for Delilah. Growing up she’d often wished her father had focused more on finding her a mother figure rather than a role model, but perhaps the two were one in the same in some cases.
Not in theirs.
Though at this precise moment, her stepmother was doing an excellent job of feigning motherly concern. “Would you like to rest a bit, dear?” She glanced over at Lord Everley who wore matching look of beneficence. “Lord Everley and I can certainly handle matters from here.”
Delilah wanted to protest. This was her wedding, her honeymoon…her future they were discussing. If anyone should take part in these conversations it was she.
And since when had these two become such close friends?
But all that was beside the point because this served her purposes quite nicely. Her stepmother had neatly handed her the excuse she needed. “Do you know, this weather does have me feeling a bit piqued,” she said with a flutter of her lashes. “If you both wouldn’t mind…”
“Of course not!” Everley was beckoning to a servant to attend to her. “We must keep you in good health for the big day, mustn’t we?”
She returned his smile evenly, trying not to note the excessively paternal note in his voice. It was nice that he was looking after her welfare.
It was hardly necessary, of course, but perhaps he was used to dealing with women of less solid constitutions.
“Henderson will take you to the sun room. You shall be quite comfortable there,” he said. Turning to the servant, he added, “Be sure to send her tea.”
Delilah bit her lip to keep from telling them both that she didn’t wish to drink tea. The last thing she wanted was for servants to come and check on her and find her gone.
Something about the look in Everley’s eyes stopped her from protesting. It was good manners to accept, anyhow. But the moment she and Henderson were out of view and earshot, she turned to the older man. “I do not require any more tea at the moment. But I will let you know when I do.”
“Very good, miss.”
And so she found herself in the sun room, which was indeed quite comfortable, and more importantly she found herself alone. Blissfully alone. She took a moment to enjoy the silence, the lack of pretense—and then she made her move.
She crept quickly and quietly through the hallways. She’d done her fair share of exploring the main areas of the first floor on the night of the ball and tonight she navigated them smoothly. She had a lie prepared in the event that she ran into someone, but the lie was unnecessary. Aside from some voices coming from the top of a staircase as she passed, the home was utterly silent.
Perhaps too silent. The ticking of the clock when she reached Everley’s office was ominous in the otherwise silent room. The door had been closed but not locked, like it had been the other night.
She’d used extra hair pins in the event that she might need them, but again…her preparations proved unnecessary. The door swung open quietly and she found herself back in the room that had been haunting her dreams and her memories for the last two days.
In the cold light of day, the room looked far more inviting, and without Mr. Calloway…
Well, without him the room felt bigger, at least…and far less exciting.
Not that he was exciting. Odds were he was just a lowly bow street runner hired to investigate Everley. Maybe he’d even been hired by Tolston himself. She scowled at the desk as she crossed to it. She’d continued to avoid the school, just as she had for weeks, but now it occurred to her that Addie might have had information on that infernal man who’d held her hostage.
Not that it mattered.
He didn’t matter.
She looked around the spacious, bizarrely empty space with a feeling of…well, emptiness. It had seemed so different last time she was here and she supposed she’d been looking forward to this moment because she’d thought she’d recapture that sensation.
The exhilaration. The thrill. The novelty of rising to a challenge, of taking her life in her own hands…
She sighed as she shoved the disappointment aside and focused on the task before her. His desk. There was no better place to start, was there?
A little while later, after carefully rifling through drawers and flipping through his diary, she had to admit that this plan was better in theory than in practicality.
For one thing, she had no idea what she was looking for. If anything, she ought to hope to find nothing, for if he were innocent there would be no incriminating evidence to be found, now would there?
The whole endeavor was starting to feel pointless, really. Maybe even silly. When no red flags reared up—and really, what had she expected to find? A confession of murder? A pirate’s flag with Everley’s name stamped upon it?
“So daft, Delilah,” she sighed in irritation as she shut the last drawer, made a point of ensuring everything looked untouched and then headed toward the hallway.
The door had no sooner clicked shut behind her when Everley and her stepmother came around the corner. They stopped at the sight of her there. Her stepmother did not seem surprised to see her, but then again…her stepmother likely did not know where the sun room was.
Or that Delilah was supposed to be in it.
She met Lord Everley’s gaze and it was there and gone in a heartbeat, but she’d seen it. Not anger.
That would imply heat. No, this was something cold as ice.
It was hatred.
Cruelty.
It was…evil.
He covered it quickly, but it left her frozen in place, her mouth dry and her limbs trembling from that brief glance. When his eyes moved away from her, she nearly slumped over in relief, but his gaze merely moved to his office door and then back to her.
He knows.
He knew exactly what she’d been up to. Her mind teemed with too many thoughts to make any sense at all as her tongue seemed to swell to double its size.
She had no excuse. What was her excuse?
“The library!” The words tumbled out of her too quickly, and far too loud for the narrow chamber. “I was looking for the library.”
Her stepmother’s brows hitched up in surprise but Everley was once more the picture of hospitality.
“An avid reader, are you?” he said.
“Umm, yes. That’s right.” She licked her lips. She was lying and they both knew it. She felt ridiculous continuing. But she’d come
this far, so she forced herself to add, “I thought it might help me take my mind off the wedding details.”
“Ah, I see.” His brows drew together and he feigned concern so well, she nearly believed it. “Is the impending wedding causing you distress?”
“No,” she said quickly. “It is just…a lot to consider.”
He eyed her as though he expected her to continue.
When she did not, he gestured behind him. “You must have gotten turned around then. The library is in the opposite direction.”
“Oh! How silly of me.” She gave her head a little shake. “It must be this heat.”
“Yes,” he said, his voice dry and flat. “You do seem under the weather today. Perhaps we ought to send you home.”
“That is probably for the best,” her stepmother chimed in. “You can take our carriage home, dear. I will send for a hired hack when we are through here.”
Alarm shot through Delilah, along with relief. She wanted to be gone, but being dismissed so summarily made her uneasy. Any sense of control she’d been feeling since she’d decided to investigate her own fiancé had withered and died.
Truthfully, it had fled the moment she’d stepped foot in Everley’s study and realized…she was alone.
And she had no idea what she was doing.
But here, now, with her mouth gaping as she searched for an excuse to stay. To make this right…
She might as well have been a small child being sent off to bed without supper.
“Nonsense,” Everley said with a sickening smile in her stepmother’s direction. “I shall have my carriage take you home when you are ready.”
She dipped her head in humble thanks, and Delilah had the urge to snap at her. Charlatan. Her stepmother had always been the best actress she knew, but she rarely saw it on such flagrant display.
At Miss Grayson’s school, Delilah was known for the sting of her tongue, for her sharp retorts and withering comebacks. And yet here, now, in the stifling presence of her stepmother and fiancé, all she could manage was a meek nod of assent as she turned toward the sun room and the library.
“Miss Clemmons.” Everley had been calling her Delilah earlier today. She gulped at the change and froze with her back to her future husband. “Do stay in the library until the carriage is brought around, won’t you? We wouldn’t want you to get lost again.”
The Miseducation of Miss Delilah: A Sweet Regency Romance (School of Charm Book 3) Page 5
