“Liar. You care too much. Why are you so determined to reject him?”
She knew the answer to that quick enough. “Because he doesn’t trust me. I can’t have a relationship like that.”
“Good Lord, Child, anyone would think you wanted a love match.”
Delphi responded quickly. “No, no of course not. I want good companionship, and a husband who has faith in me. That’s all. Not that I have much of a chance now. I’ve had two seasons, well, I’ve been in society that long at any rate, and not a sniff. My sisters found men who were mad for them. I’m not likely to find that.”
Matilda snorted. “That’s foolish. Of course you’ve found it. He can’t take his eyes off you when you’re in his vicinity. Anyone can see that he wants you so much he can’t control his reactions to you. The Duke of Kilsyth was notorious for his flirtations, but not now. I haven’t heard of one dalliance from him. On the other hand, your other suitor has a woman he visits regularly.”
Delphi blinked. “Lord Joshua?” She’d not suspected that.
“Hmm. He’s had her in keeping for some time. Not exclusively, or so I understand, but regular enough. So he’s not pining for you as Kilsyth is.”
Delphi snorted. At last, she felt strong enough to take her first sip of coffee. “Pining for me, indeed! Adam will forget me in an instant.”
“Not at all.” Leaning her arm on the table, Matilda came closer, as if to murmur a secret to Delphi, even though nobody else was by. “He was overjoyed to see you. I saw him before he controlled his reactions. And I saw the way he came to you as if drawn against his will.”
“When he left London, he didn’t even write to tell me where he was, or ask me anything. Or rather, I didn’t receive anything. He said he wrote.” Taking a spoon, Delphi traced a pattern on the damask tablecloth. Faintly delineated shapes on the white linen, as if she needed to find something hidden there. “He’s flirting, that’s all, just as he did before.”
“Oh, no,” Matilda said. She moistened her lips, sighed. “What if he was doing something against his will?”
“Like changing his loyalty to The Old Pretender, you mean?”
Leaning back, Matilda sighed. “No, I didn’t mean that. If there were—others involved, would you respect him for breaking their confidence?”
Delphi frowned, considering, digging the spoon into the fabric. “I would expect him to explain that to me.”
Matilda drank her coffee, and didn’t put the cup down until she’d emptied it. “There could be any number of reasons he left you so suddenly.”
“When I accused him of not writing, he said he did, but I never received anything.” That pattern was still there on the cloth, so she traced it again.
“A family emergency?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“The point is, Delphi, don’t allow one incident to stand in your way of happiness. Give him the benefit of the doubt.”
Delphi stopped tracing.
“A relationship includes forgiveness. Sometimes one person makes a mistake, and then the other does. They forgive one another.”
“You and Trensom?”
Matilda laughed. “Good lord, yes!”
She nodded, but recalled how much Adam had hurt her. “He abandoned me. He must have known what society would do to me. He’d been paying me particular attention, and then he just—left. Without a word.”
She lifted her gaze and met Matilda’s compassionate one. Delphi wanted to cry, but she forced the tears back. Crying only made her eyes sore. It did nothing to change her problems.
Matilda paused, frowning. “Becoming a duchess has given me a new perspective. These untouchable males who, to all intents and purposes, run the country, deal with kings on a daily basis. They don’t know what it’s like to have society turn its back, or where to look for the next meal for that matter. They have no comprehension of it. The exalted wealthy are different.” She looked up. “Kilsyth threw you to the wolves but he may not have done it deliberately.”
“He should have known.” If he cared, surely he’d have thought about that.
“Not in his experience. Dukes do what they want, go where they want. They snap their fingers—” She demonstrated “—and servants rush to do their bidding. They say something and everybody listens.”
Delphi watched her, fascinated. “Do they do that with you?”
“Haven’t you noticed?” Matilda smiled. She glanced up at the maid who had arrived. “More coffee, please.”
The maid hurried off, taking the empty pot with her.
Matilda leaned back. “I’ve only been a duchess since Christmas. Before that, society regarded me as nothing, nobody. Eccentric, interesting at best, but unimportant, a person who they could easily ignore without redress. Now? Now, I’m the Duchess of Trensom. They don’t turn their backs, they come to me and ask my opinion on matters that are none of my business. Because I’m a duchess, not because I’m Matilda. Your duke has had that reality all his life. He’s never known any different. Do you see?”
Transfixed, Delphi nodded. “I think so.” She’d never thought of it like that before.
“You, on the other hand, are still Delphi Dersingham. True, you have a title and your sisters are duchesses, but you are not a duchess. And not likely to be one unless you give Kilsyth a little time and space.”
“I don’t want to be a duchess.”
Matilda laughed. “Neither did I. But it comes with the man, inseparably. Take one, take the other.” She held her hands out, palms up as if weighing something invisible. “Your duke has something on his mind, something urgent that made him leave town. He’ll tell you eventually. When he can. But don’t let it drive you apart, not at this stage. Let him talk to you, give him sympathy and kindness. For now. On the other hand, don’t allow him to trample over you. Dukes do that, too. It’s a fine line, and there is no definitive answer, but you’ll know it, you’ll feel it.”
“You think I should remain open to him.”
Matilda nodded. “Follow your heart, Delphi. Do what it tells you. Everything else will follow.”
A door opening behind them heralded Harry’s entrance. He had changed, not unusual for him, but unusual for this time of day. Dinner was hours away. Furthermore, his expression of stern determination, mouth flat, eyes cold, made both women pay attention to him.
“Ladies, we have ourselves a problem. Someone tried to kill me in the street today.”
Chapter Eleven
Matilda and Delphi left the girls busy at their lessons and went to the café in the Piazza Navona. They took two footmen, and promised Harry they would not stray out of their sight.
His account of the attack in the street had left them both shaken, Matilda most of all. Delphi was impressed with his response. If he fought with Adam, who had a reputation as a skilled swordsman, then she would love to see a friendly match between the two.
And again, Harry prevaricated about the reason for the attack, but she guessed Matilda knew this morning when she’d spoken to her over breakfast. Infuriating that she was being kept out of the secret, like a child who could not keep confidences.
But if Adam was in danger, if Trensom was in danger, she would not sit in the house huddled up in fear. She would do something. Matilda agreed. The best course of action, they decided, would be to listen, to go to meet their friends and watch. Someone knew more than they admitted to, and as women, they could catch a person off guard.
At the very least, they would show that threats and violence did not intimidate them. While they took precautions, they would not be cowed.
Members of Roman society met at the café every day, foreign visitors and native Romans, the cream of society, with a sprinkling of artists and the inevitable priests and cardinals. Matilda and Delphi expected to meet Lady Billingham, and there she was, sitting at a table in the sunshine, a parasol protecting her delicate complexion.
When she saw Matilda, she smiled and beckoned her over.
The café stood in one of the most beautiful squares in Italy, perhaps in the world. No less than three glorious Bernini fountains stood there, water tinkling in a constant, playful flow. Behind them, the ancient church of St. Paul’s stood on the spot where the saint had been martyred. People lingered, chatting, begging, selling nosegays, depending on their preferences, or their stations in life. The tones of Italian and English mingled with rare flashes of Spanish and German.
Delphi halted when she saw the bundle of fur in her ladyship’s arms. After making her curtsey, she waited for Matilda to choose her seat, and stared at the bundle of thick brown and white fur. It didn’t move, apart from the little body moving up and down in sleep. “I didn’t know you had a…dog,” she hazarded. Her best guess, since few people would bring a cat out with them.
“Dear Lady Chatterton brought it for me at my little gathering.” Lady Billingham fondled the creature’s long ears. It didn’t stir. “Isn’t he adorable?”
“Yes,” Delphi said doubtfully. The fashion for lap dogs had never appealed to her.
This animal appeared perfectly at home, nestled in her ladyship’s satin-clad lap. Its white and brown fur showed well against the lavender fabric. Delphi wondered how her ladyship’s maid would cope with the depredations it would cause. “Do you intend to take it home to England when you go?”
“Naturally.” Lady Billingham eyed Delphi curiously. “Did you not have a pet dog? My brothers adored theirs.”
“We lived in the city, for the most part. We had no need of them.”
“Oh, it’s not need.” Lady Billingham continued her caresses. “A dog is a companion, a friend.”
“One that usually does as it’s told,” a gentleman sitting across from her ladyship added. “Unlike children or wives.”
“Or husbands,” Matilda added, raising a laugh.
“Here.” Her ladyship reached for Delphi’s hand, forcing her to bend and touch the dog. She’d touched them before, but the kind of dogs encountered on the streets of the City of London tended to the stray or the watchdog. Not soft pets.
The warmth of the creature seeped through her skin. Life pulsed beneath her hand. Her reaction to the little dog shocked her with its intensity. “How old is he?” she murmured, loath to wake the sleeping animal.
“Two months,” Lady Billingham answered, her voice at its normal pitch. “I didn’t want to leave the poor baby on his own, so I brought him out to enjoy the sun.” She indicated a thin band of leather around the dog’s neck. “I had a collar and lead made, so I would not lose him. I’m unreasonably fond of him already. Come, sit. He likes people petting him.”
“Ah.” The possibility of an animal as a companion struck Delphi. She admitted that sometimes, without her brother and sisters, she felt lonely. What if she never found anyone to be her special person? Would she be happy with animals as her friends?
Perhaps she would. But she’d prefer something bigger than this scrap. “How large will he get when he grows?”
“Not very. Perhaps four times as big, something of that nature. He’s a spaniel, but a small variety, like the ones Charles the Second owned.”
“Ah.” How did a person keep from tripping over him? “I think I’d like something larger. Between that and a hunting dog.”
“You want a puppy?” Matilda’s voice was tinged with amusement. “We could find you one.”
“No,” Delphi said hastily. “Thank you. I’ll look into the matter when I get home.”
“Signor Raffetti has more puppies to find homes for. Should I inquire?” Lady Billingham asked. She glanced across the table and Delphi inferred that the gentleman was the aforesaid Signor Raffetti. Well-dressed, perhaps forty, with a lazy smile on his handsome face.
Rome was like this; a person could find herself in conversation with someone she hadn’t been introduced to. Raffish, Gerald would call it, and he’d be right. But Delphi liked the informality, and the mild surprise when encountering someone new.
“Not for me,” Matilda said hastily. “But thank you for the thought.”
“Did the Romans have dogs?” the gentleman asked.
“Are you not a Roman?” Delphi asked.
Signor Raffetti brushed the question away with a brush of his elegantly manicured hand. “Not an ancient one. My ancestors might have worn togas and laurel wreaths, but I have no desire to do so. Neither do I study history.”
He spoke English excellently, with only a trace of an accent, making his way of speaking appealing.
“The Romans had many dogs,” Delphi said, relaxing back in the chair a servant had brought for her. “They used them much the same way we use ours. They appear on mosaics frequently, hunting, playing…”
“Interesting.” Signor Raffetti didn’t sound interested, at least not in the answer to his idle question. “I have had the pleasure of meeting the Duke of Trensom on my last visit to London, but he has certainly improved his lot since then. You are Lady Delphi Dersingham, I believe?”
His knowledge didn’t surprise Delphi; word got around Rome as quickly as it did in London. But not as fast as it raced around Versailles, the gilded prison for the French aristocracy. “Yes, sir, I am.”
“It would be a privilege to reserve one of the puppies for you. I have three left from a litter of five. I had meant to keep them longer, but one puppy was just made for Lady Billingham.”
Delphi had her back to the café, so she faced the square, her view of the occupants of the tables around them unencumbered.
Unfortunately, two tables away, the Duchess of Beauchamp was holding court. Delphi’s spirits sank when she saw her old enemy. Perhaps her recent elevation would have a beneficial effect, and the duchess would drop her enmity. After all, her antipathy had concerned marriage, and Delphi was the unmarried person here.
The duchess’ voice reached them. “Naturally, we will have to maintain standards. My husband is most insistent on that. We don’t intend to mix with undesirables, despite the laxer attitudes held here.”
She glanced at Delphi, who caught the movement in the corners of her eyes as she turned back to talk to Signor Raffetti.
So she had decided to continue the feud. She would be better off not doing that. It had not worked well for her in the past. But Delphi was the last person to advise her, so she would endure and let it be. Even though she’d have loved nothing better than to slap the duchess’ smug face.
Besides, her grace had absolutely no tact whatsoever. Declaring a criticism of a country in the middle of a group of people bound to gossip would do her no favors here. But her spite seemed endless, and these days, pointless.
“Flirtation is one thing, but particular interest is quite another,” the duchess continued. “I consider such behavior beyond the pale, but not everyone shares my high standards. However, I have shown my generous nature, because I have sent invitations to the ball I am holding on Thursday to everyone eligible.”
And that meant the Trensoms and their guest. The woman must have thrown her household into complete disarray, demanding that such an event should happen so quickly. Today was Tuesday, which did not give them much time. “After all, we must announce my husband’s presence here. We can hardly introduce him to each person individually. As it is, I’ll be paying calls for weeks. We will be preeminent in Rome, I believe.”
Matilda started. “That’s the first I heard of it.”
As if hearing his cue, the Duke of Trensom strolled across the square in their direction. Lord Joshua walked by his side. He halted at the Beauchamps’ table and bowed, forcing Beauchamp to rise and return the salutation.
“I am delighted to see your grace in such good health,” Trensom said. “Marriage must suit you, as indeed it does me.”
Beauchamp started to say something, but his wife forestalled him. “So gracious! Thank you, sir, we are very well. We insist that you attend our upcoming ball. You really must, you know.” She smiled and flirted with her fan.
His face set into calm acceptance, Trens
om bowed again and murmured his acceptance. He moved on. However Lord Joshua was not so lucky, and when bidden, took a seat at the duchess’ table.
Trensom joined them and watched Matilda pour him a cup of coffee, accepting it with a smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach you earlier.”
“You are very welcome,” Matilda said. She patted his hand and lowered her voice. “I didn’t know she was holding a ball. What made you accept?”
“She’ll invite the whole of fashionable Rome,” he murmured. “She won’t notice if we don’t go.”
Delphi begged to differ. “She wants to mark her arrival with a fanfare.”
“What is wrong with the woman? She has everything she wants. What drives her now?” Closing her eyes, Matilda tilted her head back and let the sun warm her face, while she drew a deep breath. Controlling herself, most likely.
Delphi did not seethe with anger, not any longer. Resignation, exhausted and fatalistic, took hold of her.
“I suppose I should be arranging another ball,” Lady Billingham said to nobody in particular. “And we are running low on that excellent orange juice. I declare, if we return to England I will have orange trees planted in all my hothouses, for this is a habit I would find hard to give up.”
“You should consult my sister, Dorcas,” Delphi said. “She has a particular interest in horticulture.”
Lady Billingham smiled. “Then I shall certainly do that. Making your acquaintance has been a delight, my dear. If your sister is anything like you, it’s something I can look forward to.”
“She is. We’re triplets,” said Delphi, wondering if married life suited Dorcas. She wished she had her sisters to talk to now, to share her ideas. Although she enjoyed Matilda’s company and trusted her implicitly, she didn’t know her as well. And Matilda’s recent advice, to trust her instincts, had turned Delphi’s ideas upside down.
Should she really do as her instincts urged her, instead of using her intellect? She wasn’t used to doing that. She didn’t know if she could do it. How did a person ignore their rational self in favor of the emotional?
A Whisper of Treason Page 13