Her breathing was still uneven, but she no longer looked like she might faint. Her eyes were still closed, her lips still parted—
Perfection. She was utter perfection.
When she opened her eyes, he saw her surprise. No doubt it matched his. It wasn’t as though he’d planned to kiss her.
She blinked once. Twice. Then she took a step back and he dropped his arms to let her go.
“What was—”
“Go get some rest, Delilah.” He cut off her questions…questions he wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “Mrs. Tate will show you to your room and make sure you are comfortable.”
She shut her mouth and nodded, shuffling backwards toward the door.
“Everything will be clearer in the morning,” he promised.
10
The next morning nothing was clearer.
Delilah nibbled on a pastry Mrs. Tate had brought her along with tea and a basin of water to freshen herself.
If anything, she was more confused than ever.
She had half a mind to tell Mr. Calloway that he was a liar. Making promises he couldn’t keep.
Like promising to marry her.
Her mouth stopped working mid-chew. Her heart did that thing it had taken to doing lately. It seemed to be attempting an escape, and every time it happened, it stole her breath and made her insides ache.
He’d offered to marry her. The crazy man with the nice home and lovely servants had offered to marry her.
She looked around her. How did he afford all this as a private investigator? She supposed it would be rude to ask.
Although, rudeness rarely stopped her from anything. It certainly hadn’t stopped her from refusing his marriage offer.
She winced and shoved the rest of the pastry into her mouth all at once, as if a mound of sugar might tamper the guilt and humiliation.
She might not be known for her sweet nature, but even she knew better than to insult the man who’d saved her life.
She hadn’t meant to, but the unexpected proposal had been the proverbial last straw.
For the first time since her carriage had come under attack, she’d honestly feared for her life. Not because she thought Mr. Calloway would hurt her. Her heart did that silly move again as she remembered the way he’d treated her yesterday. He’d been nothing but kind and caring. For a man who looked so brutish, he’d been surprisingly gentle with her.
On top of that, he’d done the unthinkable and made her feel safe and secure.
Until he’d mentioned marriage. Up until that moment she hadn’t really given much thought about the future. She hadn’t been able to as she’d been consumed with fears for her imminent safety.
But with that odd half-proposal, she’d realized with a start—her life might never be the same. It had shaken her to her core and she’d spoken without thought, fear and confusion winning out over any sort of politeness or etiquette.
She sighed as she swallowed the last of the pastry. Sugar did indeed help her nerves. As did the morning light streaming through the window. It was hard to feel terrified of an ominous fiancé when she was safe and well-fed with the sun shining and birds chirping outside her window.
And yet…what she would do next?
That was still unclear.
How Mr. Calloway would ensure Lord Everley did not hurt her again?
Equally unclear.
And then there was the matter of her father. She would have to explain to her father that she could not perform the one duty she’d been raised to perform. Her sole reason for existing in this family was to make a good match, and now…
Now she had no idea where she’d end up or with whom.
The only thing clear was just how uncertain her future was.
She did her best to freshen her appearance but was forced to wear the same gown as the day before. She pinched her cheeks to try and ward off the pallor that was making her look like a ghost.
Fear for one’s life tended to wreak havoc on one’s complexion, she now knew. This was a life lesson she could have done without.
When at last she could not delay the inevitable, she found herself walking slowly down the steps toward the dining room, where she’d been told she could find the master of the house.
A whole new set of nerves had her steeling her spine and tilting up her chin. These nerves had nothing to do with her safety and everything to do with seeing the man who had kissed her last night.
Her first kiss…and oh, what a kiss.
She stopped in the hallway just outside the dining room, giving herself a moment to let her silly heart do that ridiculous dance and waiting for her insides to settle.
It was just a kiss.
A big deal to her, of course, but it had likely meant nothing to him. The best thing to do was to ignore it. Pretend it never happened. Emotions had been high and the situation tense.
Kisses were likely to sprout up at times like that. Like smelling salts. Or a cup of tea.
Kisses were just a way of calming one’s nerves. Everyone knew that.
She clasped her hands together, single-mindedly ignoring the voice of reason that told her last night’s kiss had done nothing to calm her. It had done the opposite, in fact.
She’d lain awake for hours replaying that kiss as her heart had thudded in her chest like a runaway horse.
And now she was frozen, stuck standing in a hallway because her silly heart was overreacting. Her belly too. Her entire body seemed to be suffering a fit of nerves, and over what…?
A meaningless kiss.
“He’s just in there, miss,” a servant kindly pointed out, as though she were lost.
Delilah nodded her thanks. There was nothing for it but to face him. Head held high, a smile on her face, and her heart firmly in its proper place.
“Good morning,” she said as she entered.
Mr. Calloway was finished with his meal, it seemed, and was stretched back in his seat with a newspaper spread wide before him. “Morning,” he muttered, never looking up as he scowled down at the news.
“Not a morning person, are we?” she asked lightly.
He grunted.
She grinned. Her tension dissolved a bit at the normalcy of it all. Well, not normal. She couldn’t say she’d ever had breakfast alone with a gentleman she barely knew before.
Though she wasn’t sure she could continue thinking of him as a stranger, she realized as she sank into the seat opposite him.
She studied him now, from his too-long, far too disheveled hair, to the blunt nose, the seemingly permanent stubble on his chin… She had a visceral memory of how that stubble had felt when he’d kissed her. The surprisingly delicious feel of his rough skin against her sensitive flesh.
She shivered.
No, he was definitely not a stranger anymore. Which begged the question…what was he?
Friend? Ally?
“Would you like something to eat?” he asked abruptly, finally looking up to consider her. “Mrs. Tate can prepare something for you. I don’t normally eat breakfast but I’m sure she’d be willing to—”
“I already ate, thank you,” she said. She found herself battling a grin.
Ridiculous, really. She had far too many concerns in front of her to be smiling like a dolt over this man’s brash morning behavior.
It was rather endearing to see him ill at ease, though. Their every other encounter had left her feeling as though she were an overly sensitive shrill beast in the face of his calm, laid-back demeanor.
This morning he looked far more like a bear than a man.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked warily.
She gave her head a shake and wiped any trace of a smile from her lips. “I just didn’t know you were so disgruntled in the mornings, that is all.”
He grunted again and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even further. “Yes, well. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” His glower seemed to indicate that this was her fault, and the urge to smile died as surely as her
smile.
Oh.
She shifted uncomfortably under his glare.
He’d been up thinking about her plight, no doubt. Perhaps wondering just how he’d gotten stuck with an ungrateful brat when he’d only been hired to investigate Everley.
Or maybe he’d been regretting that kiss.
The thought stung.
Or wishing he could take back his proposal.
That cut like a knife.
She fiddled with a ribbon on her gown and avoided looking directly at his furrowed expression. Of those options, she supposed she preferred the first so she chose to address that. “I will compensate you for your efforts, of course.”
He stilled in the act of reaching for his tea. “Pardon me?”
She licked her lips only to find that her entire mouth was as dry as the desert. “Perhaps I will have another cup of tea, after all,” she said, craning her neck as if she might find Mrs. Tate hiding behind the cupboard.
“You will pay me,” he said slowly, his tone incredulous.
“Er, yes,” she said, her voice pitching up at the end as though it were a question. She huffed in exasperation with herself. What was it about this man that brought out the worst in her?
Where were her cool, pleasing manners that she wielded so handily around gentlemen of the ton? She’d spent a lifetime perfecting the art of prudent flirtation and tinkling laughter, only to have it fail her whenever this brute was in her presence.
She cleared her throat, and tried again, with a small smile this time. “What I meant to say is…I realize that you were hired by Tolston for one particular job, and now you have been saddled with me.” She paused, humiliation threatening to stop her words altogether. “You went above and beyond the call of duty yesterday, and I would like to ensure that you receive proper compensation.”
His glower never wavered and then after a heartbeat of studying her a flicker of amusement broke through that dour expression and he burst out in a laugh that had her cheeks bursting into flame.
She kept her composure, however, as she clasped her hands in her lap. “I did not think I said anything so amusing.”
He gave his head a little shake. “You will pay me,” he muttered again under his breath, like he still could not believe it.
She opened her mouth to ask him just why he was laughing at her, but then she saw it.
A flicker of hurt beneath the mirth.
Oh drat. The words died on her tongue. She’d hurt his feelings.
She bit her lip. She should be used to this feeling. Her tongue had a tendency to sting, even when she wasn’t trying to be mean. That was why Prudence had been her only friend for a while there, until Louisa and Addie had decided to overlook her flaws.
Prudence never took her seriously. The others were learning not to.
But this man…a man who looked so strong and…well, untouchable really. She couldn’t have hurt this man.
Could she?
She scrambled to think of a good apology, but apologizing had never been her strong suit. “I only meant—”
“With what?” he interrupted.
She blinked. “Pardon me?”
He leaned forward slowly and she was reminded of a large cat, hunting its prey. “With what do you mean to pay me for saving your life and keeping you safe?”
“Uh…” She swallowed at the predatory look in his eyes. Not cruel, like Everley, just…disconcerting. She wasn’t sure anyone had ever looked at her with such intensity before, and certainly not a man.
Definitely not a man she’d kissed.
And there she went, thinking about that kiss again. Her cheeks must have been scarlet if the heat scorching her cheeks was any indication.
“You are right, of course,” she said with as much humility as she could muster.
It wasn’t much.
She looked down at her lap as his meaning hit home. She came from wealth. She’d been spoiled with every gift she’d ever asked for. She only had to tell her nurse or governess what she desired, and it appeared as if by magic.
But money…actual money…
Her only wealth was in the form of a dowry. “I, uh…I…” She swallowed. “I could marry you.”
His eyes flared wide, the amusement gone in a flash. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but she knew what she was thinking and it made her want to cry.
Was that why he’d offered to marry her the night before? Did he think he’d won himself a golden goose when he’d saved her life and potentially ruined her reputation?
Even as she thought it, she kicked herself for thinking it. The man had been nothing but kind to her, she ought not be suspecting him of mercenary motives.
Her gaze collided with his and she could not read him at all. He was staring at her with the same amount of intensity, but she could not read his thoughts.
She forced the hurt feelings down. Deep, deep down to some hidden place where she might eventually pull them out and analyze them. But for now, this was a stranger who’d done right by her.
Whether his offer to marry her had been fueled by a desire for her fortune or not, it did not matter.
Besides, he had every right to wish for some sort of payment for the noble act he’d undertaken.
It showed he was sensible, really.
She tilted her chin up higher. “I do not know that my father would honor the dowry he’s promised to Everley. But I know he would ensure that I was well settled. And once he learned of the circumstances leading to the…the…”
He arched his brows. “The marriage?” he offered.
She nodded. “Once he understood that you’d saved my life, I am certain he would…provide handsomely.”
She thought. She hoped. She bit her lip. Oh drat, what if he didn’t?
Her father was not a warm man, and they had never been close. He took pride in having a beautiful, marriageable daughter who could ensure a good match.
But if she couldn’t?
What value did she have?
She looked down at the table as the truth hit home.
She had none.
Not to her family, at least.
Perhaps Mr. Calloway sensed the change in her, because he sighed from across the table. “Let us shelve all talk of compensation and marriage for the time being, shall we?” His voice sounded weary. “For now let us just focus on the task at hand, which is to keep you safe from harm.”
She nodded, her throat still too choked to speak.
“Come,” he said, his voice sounded far more normal—all gruff and low and at ease as he came to stand. “We shall visit your School of Charm and ensure that they understand your predicament. I’ve already told Tolston to meet us there.”
She felt a smile tugging at her lips as she lifted her gaze. “It could not have been difficult to convince him. Lord Tolston will find any excuse to spend time with his future wife.”
He smiled in return and she felt warm all the way through at the affection in his eyes.
The awkwardness from a moment ago was gone, and they were back to being…
Friends.
Allies?
Oh, whatever they were, they were back.
11
Rupert tried not to notice the whispering that was taking place on the other side of the door.
Miss Grayson smiled kindly. “Do not mind the girls, they are just curious.” She glanced over at Delilah. “And worried.”
Delilah looked away.
“Tolston and I will only tell them as much as you wish to let them know,” Miss Grayson said to Delilah.
Delilah sniffed, her haughty expression speaking volumes—to Rupert, at least. She was uncomfortable with Miss Grayson’s kindness, unused to being the object of concern.
“Whatever you please,” Delilah said stiffly. “I leave it to your discretion.”
Tolston, who’d arrived at the same time they had, looked to Delilah as well. “We will get to the bottom of this, Miss Clemmons.”
She nodded, but he
r confidence was feigned. He could not blame her. Rupert had been trying to affix a crime to Everley’s name for years and had never made progress. What were the odds that they could do so now, with her wedding date looming in the not-too-distant future?
Miss Grayson reached a hand out to Delilah but seemed to think better of it and snatched it back. “Should we not tell your father? Your stepmother?”
Did Delilah have any idea how much her silence gave away? How her eyes spoke volumes even when she kept her mouth shut.
She did not believe they would care, or maybe she just was not certain they would believe her. Either way, every time her family had been mentioned, she’d drawn into herself in a way that made Rupert want to rage.
He could handle her anger, he now knew how to soothe her when she was frightened, but this… Her withdrawing into herself, not trusting the people around her with her emotions—it drove him mad.
Specifically, it made him want to rail against the person or people who had instilled this level of distrust. Who had raised her to be a veritable hermit crab. All hard shell on the outside, and a soft underbelly she was terrified to expose.
Miss Grayson and Tolston were waiting patiently for her to answer the direct question about her family, perhaps not realizing what a sensitive topic they’d touched upon.
When he could stand it no longer, Rupert answered on her behalf. “I’ve advised Miss Clemmons to keep this business as confidential as possible for the time being. As her father is sick and ought not to suffer undue stress. I believe it would be for the best if we wait to speak to him until we have conclusive proof.”
He looked over and found Delilah staring at him, her expression inscrutable.
He turned back to the others. “We’re only sharing this information with you because we may need your help to keep Delilah’s reputation intact,” he said.
Miss Grayson nodded. “Of course. We will do whatever you need.”
Delilah stepped in with the details of the message she wished for Miss Grayson to send to her home. That she had decided to stay at the school for a while to see her friends.
“Of course I will send that,” she said, concern tightening Miss Grayson’s pretty features. “But…to stay at the home of a bachelor, unchaperoned…”
The Miseducation of Miss Delilah: A Sweet Regency Romance (School of Charm Book 3) Page 8
