Sinfully Delectable (Regency Four Book 2)

by Virginia Taylor

“You will,” he assured as he turned toward the door. A shoe whizzed past his ear.

  That went well, he thought to himself as he left the room.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Della appeared to have gained a betrothed but she had lost her easygoing Eden. The Eden who would always do as she wished had disappeared. For the first time in her life she was at a loss. She preferred the old Eden. The new one didn’t admire her piano playing and thought he could do better with his patterns. The new Eden wouldn’t kiss her. He was right, morally, but she couldn’t see why a kiss or two should matter between friends.

  She spent two annoyed days before she saw a red travelling coach with a glossy black roof pull up in the driveway. Intricate gilded carving had been hammered onto the doors. Four perfectly matched bays, their hides silken in the sunlight, stood arrogantly tossing their long manes. The steps were let down by a postillion, one of two, who helped Lady Hebe Dover, darling Hebe, step lightly onto the cobbles.

  Della’s music composing ceased. Gathering her skirts in her hand, she raced out of the room, dashing through the long hallway to the front door where Hebe stood beside the butler, a smile on her gorgeous face.

  “Lady Hebe to see you,” the butler said, his face stiff with disapproval as the very naughtiest of her three friends entered the hallway.

  Della grabbed her, hugged her, and took a breath. “Where on earth did you get that shockingly ostentatious coach?”

  “I was wondering what your first words to me might be, and I was close. I thought you would say I had stepped up in the world.” Hebe held her longer than usual. “And I’ll tell you all about it when you are sitting down.” She gave a sideways glance at the butler who took her travelling cloak and gloves. Underneath she wore a very smart tan colored gown, which looked perfect with her auburn hair.

  Since Mama hadn’t budged from the salon, Della led the way. “Look whom I have here—Hebe,” she said as she entered the room. The sunbeams angled onto the dark wood of the side-tables and bounced to glitter lace-curtain patterns on the wall.

  Mama rose to greet her with a kiss on the cheek, a great honor, for Mama rarely moved for anyone. Normally a tortoise would beat her in a race. “I hope you mean to stay with us, Hebe. Della needs a show of friends to support her among the many Thorntons whom we are about to meet this week.”

  “Thorntons? Don’t you know enough already?” Hebe knew Eden, who was possibly enough for her.

  “All Eden’s relatives, she means. You are staying, of course.” Della still clutched Hebe’s hand.

  “I have rooms booked at the inn, but I wanted to say farewell to you first.” Hebe’s eyes glimmered strangely.

  “You certainly can’t stay at the inn,” Mama said comfortably, arranging her patterned shawl around her as she sat. “We need you for Friday night. And why are you saying farewell to us? Are you about to tour the continent?” She used a precise voice to hide the faint trace of a Spanish accent, a long ‘e’ leftover that promised never to go, no matter how long she lived in England.

  “Unfortunately not. I’m about to be married to the owner of the ostentatious carriage that brought me, and my new chaperone, here. My future sister-in-law is sitting outside waiting for me.”

  Mama rang the bell, not about to leave a source of gossip sitting outside. The footman answered, and Hebe’s chaperone, who should have been her mother, but wasn’t, was sent for. Della held her questions until she could be alone with her friend. Miss Daisy Martin, Mama’s companion/slave, a distant relative of Papa’s, fluttered in, on the hunt for visitors, as usual. The garrulous gray-haired spinster had taken over the role of remembering everything Mama had no intention of remembering, for example, people’s names, and organizing pots of tea.

  Small talk was participated in until a tall, awkward woman, dressed in black, entered the room with much trepidation. Hebe moved to stand beside her. “Lady Hayden, let me make known to you Mrs. Smithers, the sister of my betrothed, Horace Hampton. Also, my friend, Della Hampton, Mrs. Smithers, and Miss Martin.”

  The conversation from there proceeded awkwardly, for Della’s mother wasn’t acquainted with anyone in society by the name of Hampton. Her tactful questioning led her nowhere, which entertained Della, who meant to discover what on earth had happened since she had left Hebe in London enjoying her second season. Mama muddled along rather well, because she enjoyed company, and before poor Mrs. Smithers knew what she was in for, she had been invited with Hebe to stay for the next four days.

  Then, Della’s mother announced that Della was now betrothed to Eden.

  Hebe’s eyes widened. “Lord Eden Thornton?”

  “The very same. He proposed to me three days ago.” Della dropped her gaze. She disliked being obscure, but in company she could say no more.

  “I wonder what took him so long?”

  Shocked, Della stared at Hebe. “He didn’t think of it until then.”

  “Didn’t he?” Hebe looked skeptical. “That’s unlike him. He’s quite a deep thinker, I always thought.”

  “You are speaking of Eden Thornton, my neighbor?”

  “The tall, blonde, handsome earl. The one who can do sums in his head before you’ve had time to offer the last number.”

  Della nodded. “Yes. I think that’s a fair description, even if underdone.” Eden also understood music patterns, how to keep secrets, how to support a woman in need, and how to kiss that woman and leave her wanting more. “We don’t plan to marry for a while. Papa’s still deciding when would suit him best.” She smiled at poor Mrs. Smithers who had been left out of the conversation. Fortunately, mama changed the subject so many times that finally Mrs. Smithers managed to add a word or two, when Miss Daisy Martin wasn’t adding a word or three.

  When the upstairs maid finally announced that the guest rooms were ready, Della escorted Hebe to hers in the sunny wing, where all the rooms were furnished in the previous century and extremely overdone as regards to flower-patterned wallpapers and lush velvets. Determined to find out about the betrothal, she sat on Hebe’s bed. “Where did you meet Horace Hampton?”

  Hebe concentrated on her twisting fingers. “My parents found him for me. He is excessively rich and he offered to buy Papa’s house and lands, and me. My parents will have an income and live there cost-free for the rest of their lives, and my children and Horace’s will inherit the property in due course.” She offered a faint shrug.

  All the air left Della’s chest. “Is he a good man? Do you love him?”

  Hebe met her gaze and nodded. “He is an honorable man and he wants to be married to my title. I will be a great benefit to him, socially.”

  “But, do you love him?”

  “I respect him and I like him.” Hebe’s shoulders lifted a little. She seemed resigned rather than happy. “He has been very generous with his settlements.”

  “I hope he loves you as much as we do.” Della left most of her true thoughts unsaid.

  She had known forever that Hebe had to marry money, and Della presumed that Horace Hampton absolutely adored Hebe. Everyone else did. Hebe was a joy, the best person to help undo the effect of rash words, the best to make a joke of an awkward situation, and a kind and loyal supporter to a friend whose social skills consisted of playing the piano and ignoring all advice. The thought that her friend would marry out of her social circle had never occurred to Della.

  Her mind wandered to Eden, who was certainly in her social circle and would have enjoyed the excess of aitches in the names, Hebe, Hampton, and Horace, and seen something mathematical there.

  She took Hebe’s fingers and squeezed them, certain that they would remain friends no matter whom each married. “About Eden ...”

  “I’m so happy for you. He is a darling man. You will be very comfortable with him.”

  “So everyone says.” Della did her best to look satisfied, but after Hebe’s revelation, she couldn’t bear to say that Eden was only pretending to be her betrothed. If Hebe didn’t mind who she married, she c
ould have asked Eden. He would have helped her family. Della swallowed because her hypocrisy hit her low. Hebe and Eden wouldn’t suit each other at all, though she couldn’t say why. “I’m so glad you could stay for a few days. The ordeal of sitting through a meal with the entire Thornton family was depressing me. You know how it is.”

  Hebe nodded sagely. “Yes, Della. You would be in the middle of a sentence and need to write down a melody that had been wandering through your head since you had noticed a color or a jewel, or heard a sentence that was somehow important in music. Your friends tolerate your eccentricities, but strangers ...”

  “... think I am dippy.”

  “We’re a strange combination, we four, aren’t we? All unalike, but so perfectly matched. And we’ll all marry and have children, and end up having nothing in common but these lovely days when we get together and laugh about trivialities. I’m glad I took this trip. Mrs. Smithers isn’t half as bad as I assumed she would be. She has a kind heart, despite her lack of humor. Horace thought I would be comfortable with her, and I am. Whom do you think will attend Eden’s dinner?”

  The quick change of subject was not lost on Della, but she joined in Hebe’s speculation, which soon got out of hand. The next few days flew. Eden came over once, but he wanted to speak to Papa and apparently thought that Hebe was enough company for Della, which was quite true. She wouldn’t want him to let Hebe know he thought so little of his new fiancée that he had decided not to kiss her. That fact would be clear enough at the dinner.

  * * * *

  Eden tolerated his relatives quite well, but he loved his sisters. Aged sixteen and seventeen, they had pestered her ladyship about joining the extended family for the betrothal dinner, which, in Eden’s opinion, they ought to attend. He wanted his entire family together to celebrate what he hoped would be a marriage. His own father had been a disinterested parent and husband. Mother had held them all together until he died. As long as the girls remained unmarried, he would do all within his means to have a happy family.

  Three uncles with wives, four adult cousins, one with a husband, one with a wife, Mother, two sisters, and one prospective bride with her parents and her best friend assembled in the formal drawing room. He didn’t know how anyone could hear a word, such was the volume when families got together. His mother thought twenty for dinner was a very good number. He was bound to agree, although twenty-two would have been more symmetrical, and he could have had ten people at each side of the table, instead of having nine each side, which meant one person sat awkwardly between the couples. “But hardly enough gentlemen to go around,” he mentioned to his mother.

  “When we’re all family, that doesn’t matter a jot,” she said, though her forehead creased.

  Since he had to sit with Della’s mother on his right, and Mother had Della’s father on her right, and Hebe as the daughter of a viscount outranked the other women, he decided she would sit on his left. He wouldn’t be at all bored. The beautiful redhead’s tongue was wicked and she had always been a clever flirt. With luck his attention to her would be noticed by Della who had been placed centrally, between one of his uncles and one of his cousins, the dullest of the lot. Della probably would neither mind nor notice as long as no one bored her with tales of him when he was younger, as was prone to happen at family dinners.

  He seated Lady Hayden, while his cousin, John Steeple, seated Hebe. John glanced at her bosom as men were prone to do to Hebe. Even Eden wasn’t above enjoying a beautiful figure on a lovely woman. The food began to roll in. The wine was poured liberally and the sound at the table resembled the din in a tavern. First he engaged Lady Hayden in conversation and then his uncle on her other side, wanted her attention.

  Eden turned and smiled at Hebe. “How long are you staying with Della?”

  “I’m off tomorrow. I want to see Winsome, too.”

  “Has she left town?”

  “Of course. She hates London. But I can’t get married unless I say goodbye to her and Rose first.”

  “Why do you have to say goodbye to anyone?”

  “My betrothed, Horace Hampton, is a wealthy merchant. He wouldn’t be comfortable with my friends.”

  He finally realized she had said she was getting married. For a moment he couldn’t think of anything to say. She was quite right. Society wouldn’t accept the chap no matter the size of his fortune, if he were in trade. Although Eden was glad to hear that Hebe would be married to a wealthy man, he wished she hadn’t been put in the position of having to support her irresponsible parents. “You’ll still see your friends, regardless.”

  She nodded but her eyes said she thought the idea unlikely. “I was very pleased to hear that you are to marry Della.”

  He eyed her suspiciously, knowing she and her close friends never kept secrets from each other. Tell one a thing, and the others knew before the dawn of the next day. “We’re delirious with happiness,” he said carefully.

  She laughed. “I think you are perfect for each other. Della has been very close about this. It’s not like her at all.”

  He gave a noncommittal smile. Perhaps Della thought if no one knew, she would be able to rid herself of him sooner. Apparently she hadn’t taken this dinner tonight seriously. His whole family would spread the story of their betrothal. While in the midst of laughing at a comment of Hebe’s about the king’s mistress, he glanced down the table at Della, whose lowered eyebrows showed him what she thought about her placement at the table. Or ... something else. In case she thought he was a little too absorbed in her friend, he made sure of glancing at Hebe’s mouth as if he imagined kissing her.

  Wishing the thought of kissing hadn’t come into his mind at that moment, he kept his gaze on Hebe a little too long, realizing that although she laughed and flirted, her eyes no longer sparkled. He couldn’t stop himself from picking up her hand and holding it for a moment. Hebe looked surprised and her eyes glossed. “Don’t,” she whispered. “I can take anything but sympathy.”

  He nodded, but his heart ached for her. If she had been his sister he could have prevented her marrying for money but she wasn’t and he couldn’t. “I wish you well, Hebe. If I can help you in any way, let me know.”

  “You can’t, Eden.” Her shoulders lifted slightly as her expression hardened. She turned back to his cousin.

  * * * *

  Della chewed her thumbnail. She and Hebe were sitting in the conservatory to catch the sun, while Mama entertained Mrs. Smithers in the drawing room. Mrs. Smithers would be perfect company for Mama, since she rarely said a word. Unlike her companion, Daisy, Mama had always been bored with the local gossip. Mama much preferred living in town and associating ex-military friends of Papa’s, who discussed tactics endlessly, or parliamentary squabbles, expecting to solve England’s problems over a good meal.

  Della’s thoughts were far less deep and concerned her own problems. She and Winsome, Rose, and Hebe had a pact never to let a man come between them. And now Eden appeared to be smitten with Hebe. She’d seen the way he had looked at her last night, his gaze full of yearning.

  A few weeks ago, he had told Della that he thought Lord Alexander Rydale was interested in Hebe. Eden had appeared unfazed, but he always hid his thoughts behind a wall of unstinting generosity. He was the kindest person Della knew. He could have been desperate to have Hebe without Della knowing, but being Alex’s friend, he would be gracious enough to bow out. Now Hebe was about to marry a Mr. Hampton, and neither of them could have her. The whole situation was too fraught for Della to manage, especially when she seemed to be the snag in the middle of the tangle.

  The worst of the ridiculous situation was that Della somehow saw Eden differently now. She had always known that he was incredibly handsome, but she hadn’t seen more to him than him being an amusing friend and a wicked flirt. Last night she had seen him as far too attractive to women. She had wanted to shake him and say ‘look at me’ when she normally preferred to be left alone.

  Suddenly her teasing words to
him about taking him as a lover seemed tasteless, despite the fact that she just as suddenly realized she wanted him in any way she could have him—as long as her friend would not be hurt if she did. “What are your real, true, honest feelings about Eden?” she asked, resting her hand on Hebe’s arm.

  Hebe blinked. “My honest feelings? I have never expressed anything other than my honest feelings to you. I think he is delectable.”

  “But, how delectable? Do you want to marry him?”

  For a moment, Hebe’s eyes widened. Her lips relaxed. Her head slowly moved from side to side. “I don’t see him that way at all. I see him more as a confessor, a man to whom I would trust a secret.”

  “Honestly?”

  “Della, what has come over you? I thought you were going to marry him. Do you suspect him of being unfaithful? I can assure you that I have never heard a word of gossip about him, ever.”

  “But you’ve heard about his mistress?”

  “I have heard him being ragged about light skirts, but ...” Hebe shrugged. “They all have mistresses. It’s perfectly normal. It’s far better than meeting strange women in alleys.”

  “I don’t want him to have a mistress.”

  “He’ll probably give her up if he loves you.”

  Della frowned and kept Hebe’s gaze. “I don’t intend to marry a man who cares for anyone other than me.”

  “It’s not a matter of caring. It’s matter of ‘men will be men.’”

  “In that case, I have a good reason to call off the betrothal. I don’t intend to be nothing but baby-maker. I want to be so much more.” Della held her breath, having given Hebe a chance with Eden if she still wanted him.

  Hebe took her hand. “Don’t rush into this. You have plenty of time to make a final decision.”

  “So do you.”

  “Della, I couldn’t have found a better offer if I searched the world. No young man with family obligations of his own could restore my family’s estate. I have nothing to offer in return but my courtesy title. You, on the other hand, will be welcomed into a happy home. Eden’s entire family, even his cousins, his uncles, and his aunts, are so pleased you’re going to be Eden’s wife. They all think you are right for him. You’re smart, Della. He doesn’t need a toy. He would run rings around anyone else.”