The Scandalous Adventures of the Sister of the Bride

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The Scandalous Adventures of the Sister of the Bride Page 9

by Victoria Alexander


  “It wasn’t bad.” He shrugged. “It could use some practice. You’re not used to apologizing, are you?”

  “I rarely do anything that requires an apology.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” He turned away from her and wandered around the perimeter of the room, stopping to study a large portrait of a woman and three young girls. He didn’t need to look at Delilah to know she was debating whether to ignore his comment or take up the gauntlet. He’d bet on the latter.

  A long moment drifted by in silence. Was he wrong?

  “I’ll have you know, I am usually quite pleasant.”

  It was all he could do to keep from laughing. Of course he wasn’t wrong, he was rarely wrong.

  “And amusing,” she continued. “I’m excellent at conversing on any number of topics. People find me quite clever. And I’m polite, unfailingly polite. And I am never—”

  “Rude,” he said absently, bending closer to the painting to read the artist’s signature. “You said that.”

  “Obviously, it bears repeating.”

  “You probably can’t say that you’re never rude often enough.”

  “Apparently!”

  “One should always be clear about that sort of thing.” He glanced at her. “As one should always be clear about never seeing someone again.”

  “I thought I was clear.”

  “And yet, here I am.” He smiled. “And here I intend to stay.”

  “No doubt.” She considered him for a moment. “It might be frightfully dull for you here, though.”

  He chuckled. “I can’t imagine that.”

  “And it does seem a shame, since you have never really seen anything outside of London, for you to be trapped here,” she said, a sly note in her voice. “When you could be enjoying a bit of travel. Brighton is lovely this time of year.”

  “Brighton?”

  “Oh, my yes.” She bubbled with enthusiasm. “The crowds are gone now and it’s quite a charming place.”

  “Nonetheless, I have no desire to travel to Brighton or anywhere else at the moment.” He glanced around the library. “No, I am looking forward to enjoying the peace and quiet of the country here at Millworth.”

  “Yes, well, I suspected as much.” She thought for a moment. “It might be awkward, you know. For the two of us to be in such close proximity.”

  “Because you never wanted to see me again?”

  “There is that . . .”

  “But then you told the others we have never met and I am not so lacking in chivalry that I would point out a lady’s deceit.”

  “Thank you. That is most appreciated.” The reluctant note in her voice belied her words. “I would appreciate as well if we did try to avoid one another. It would be easier to keep up the pretense of having just met.”

  “You needn’t worry about that. I agree that avoiding one another is an excellent idea.” He paused. “It won’t be easy though as there are only five of us here at the moment and I imagine there will be any number of unavoidable instances when we are thrown together.”

  “Probably.”

  “However, allow me to relieve your mind on another matter, Lady Hargate.”

  “What matter?”

  “Now that I have seen you again, I believe I have changed my mind.”

  “Changed your mind about what?” Caution edged her voice.

  “About seeing you again.” He shook his head. “Now, I think you’re right. We should have gone our separate ways.”

  She stared at him. “I am usually right.”

  “So you have nothing to fear on that score.” He strolled to the table where he had left his glass, picked it up, and drained the last of his whisky. “I have no interest in a woman who is looking for nothing more in a new husband than wealth and title.”

  She gasped. “I am looking for a great deal more!”

  He cast her a skeptical look. “Love then?”

  “Love is neither practical nor necessary. Love simply muddies the water and creates problems where none should exist. Regardless, what I want is none of your concern.” Her blue eyes flashed. “But you have just made my point as to why I don’t want anyone—anyone at all—to know we have met. It was only this afternoon that I mentioned my plans and already Camille has told Grayson. Who has obviously confided in you. You know about my financial difficulties as well, don’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Of course you do. There are no secrets to be kept in this house.” She swiveled on her heel and paced the room. “Why, the very fact that I haven’t mentioned you would be enough to have Camille and Teddy and probably Grayson as well wondering why I have kept that fact to myself. And why you went along with me.” She paused and stared at him. “They would jump to all sorts of conclusions, you know.”

  “Some of them perilously close to the mark, I would imagine.”

  “Camille especially has quite a fertile imagination.” She resumed pacing. “But whatever conclusion she might reach will pale in compassion to what Beryl will concoct. And once Beryl knows, or thinks she knows . . .” She shuddered.

  “You don’t get along with your sisters, do you?”

  “Well, I haven’t in the past but—” She threw her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “And you already know that, don’t you?”

  He winced. “Yes, I’m afraid I do.”

  “As I said, there are no secrets here.” She shook her head in disgust.

  “Except ours,” he said slowly. “You may count on me to keep it.”

  “It would not be good for either of us.” A warning rang in her voice. “If the truth came out, that is.”

  He chuckled. “Probably not.”

  “Very well then.” She drew a deep breath. “We are agreed?”

  “We are.” He stepped close to her and held out his hand. “When I reach a verbal agreement, in matters of business, it’s customary to shake a man’s hand.”

  “I’m not a man.”

  “Then your word is less honorable than a man’s?”

  “What utter rubbish.” She huffed. “Do you say things intended to annoy me or is it just part of your nature?”

  He grinned. “Both.”

  She took his hand and met his gaze directly. “Has anyone ever told you that you are a most infuriating, annoying, bothersome creature?”

  “Not to my knowledge and certainly not to my face.” He gazed down into her blue eyes, nearly the same color as Camille’s. With the fair coloring of the older sister, blue was not a surprise. But with Delilah’s deep, rich brown hair, the color of her eyes was unexpected and remarkable. He had noted their color when they had first met and now, gazing into the endless blue, he remembered as well how they had sparkled with the excitement of flirtation and glazed with the throes of passion. “Most people would hesitate making that sort of comment because it might be considered, oh, I don’t know, rude?”

  The corners of her mouth quirked as if she was trying to keep from smiling. “You do this to annoy me, don’t you?”

  “Shall I be honest?”

  She shrugged. “We might as well try honesty.”

  “I do.” He grinned. “I like annoying you.”

  “You do it very well.”

  She tried to draw her hand from his but he held fast and pulled her a little closer.

  “It’s your fault, you know.” Close enough to bend down and kiss her should he be so inclined.

  “What is?” She stared up at him but made no attempt to move. He suspected, in spite of herself, she would kiss him back.

  “That I like annoying you.”

  “Oh?” There was a breathless quality to her voice. Intriguing and nearly irresistible.

  “I like the way your eyes spark when you’re angry. And the way you say one thing and do something else entirely different. And I especially like the way you blush.”

  “Nonsense. I don’t blush,” she said even as a flush colored her cheeks.

  “And you thought I would be bored here at
Millworth?” He chuckled. “On the contrary, I expect to enjoy myself thoroughly.”

  She stared at him for another moment and something flashed in her eyes so quickly she probably didn’t realize it herself. Something exciting and promising and intriguing.

  She jerked her hand from his. “We meet in the main parlor before going into dinner. I’ll go now and you should join us in a few minutes.”

  “Because we wouldn’t want to be seen arriving together.”

  “Which would certainly arouse suspicion.” She turned toward the door.

  “You do realize you’ll have to apologize again.”

  “What?” Delilah turned back and glared at him. “Why on earth would I apologize yet again? I believe I have apologized quite enough.”

  “You can do what you want, of course.” He shrugged. “But it seems to me that unless you apologize in front of the others, they will continue to wonder why you haven’t.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” She shook her head. “It can’t be helped I suppose.” Her gaze narrowed. “As long as you understand that apology won’t be the least bit sincere as I have already sincerely apologized.”

  “You do want to make it look genuine and sound sincere.”

  “Oh, it will look sincere to the others.” She favored him with a smug smile. “But it won’t be.” She nodded and swept from the room.

  Sam grinned. This was going to be fun. She was going to be fun.

  His smile faded. But fun was all it would be. She obviously had no interest in more. In picking up where they had left off. As much as that might have been a possibility in the back of his mind when he had arrived, now he had to agree with her. He had no interest in a woman whose sole purpose in life was to marry well.

  He adjusted the simple gold buttons on his cuffs and considered the matter. While certainly some spark still lingered between them, on her side it was obviously nothing more than fear that his presence might ruin her plans. And anger that he’d had the nerve to show up at all. She could deny it all she wished, but it was apparent to him that whatever drew them together initially remained. Not that it mattered. Best to nip this in the bud now. Regardless of the attraction between them, he absolutely refused to give his heart to a woman who only wanted him for his money and his position. He’d been down that path before. He would not step foot upon it again. He flicked an invisible piece of lint from the arm of his evening coat and started toward the parlor.

  And ignored the annoying thought that just possibly that step had already been taken.

  Chapter Six

  “Sam,” Camille said with a gracious smile. “If you would be so good as to escort me into dinner, Grayson will accompany my sister and Teddy.”

  “There is nothing I like better than being entrusted with the escort of two such lovely ladies,” Grayson said in a gallant manner, belying the chastising look in his eyes when his gaze met Delilah’s.

  She smiled weakly.

  Clement announced dinner the moment Grayson had finally appeared in the parlor, leaving no time for Delilah to explain why she had failed to meet him. Yet another falsehood she should feel bad about but didn’t. Dear Lord, what was happening to her? It was rather difficult to pride oneself on one’s honesty if one wasn’t, oh, honest.

  As much as she hated to admit it, Samuel was right. Apologizing in front of everyone would prove she—they—had nothing to hide. Better to get it over and done with while she had the chance.

  “I would be honored.” Samuel smiled down at Camille.

  He did have a nice smile. It was no wonder Camille and Teddy were taken with him. That smile in combination with his dark eyes and the wicked twinkle that perpetually lingered there, well, what woman wouldn’t be taken with him? Not Delilah, of course. Not again anyway.

  She drew a deep breath. “Before we go into dinner, there is something I should say. To Samuel.”

  Camille frowned and her anxious gaze shifted between her sister and the American. “This really isn’t the time—”

  “No, Camille, this is the perfect time.” Delilah turned to Samuel and cast him her brightest smile. “Samuel.” She braced herself. “Sam, I owe you my apologies. I was beastly to you this afternoon. I’m afraid my mind was, well, preoccupied I suppose. Still, that is no excuse. I am not usually so . . . curt. I don’t know what came over me but I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  A look of relief passed over Camille’s face. Goodness, what did her sister think Delilah was going to say to the man anyway?

  “There is nothing to apologize for.” He took her hand, raised it to his lips and gazed into her eyes.

  Delilah swallowed. This was really not appropriate. Still, it would be most curt to say so. And what could one expect from an American anyway? It wasn’t as if he wasn’t doing it well. Indeed, the man was quite skilled at the kissing of hands. Still, he was probably just trying to be annoying.

  “I can certainly understand how unexpected . . . developments might affect one’s manner.” He smiled in an entirely too engaging way. “And I owe you an apology as well. For insisting we had met when I was so clearly mistaken.”

  “We all make mistakes on occasion.” She pulled her hand from his without resistance and ignored a twinge of annoyance that he released her so easily. That was that then.

  “Now that this is settled,” Camille began. “We should go into dinner before Clement feels compelled to return and stare in an accusing manner. As though we personally destroyed Mrs. Dooley’s fine cooking.”

  Teddy glanced at her and wrinkled her nose. The quality of Mrs. Dooley’s cooking had been erratic of late.

  “Shall we?” Samuel offered his arm.

  Camille hooked her arm though his and they strolled into the dining room.

  “Ladies.” Grayson offered his arm to Teddy on one side, Delilah on the other. He inclined his head toward his future sister-in-law. “Very nicely done, Delilah. And most appreciated.”

  “I owe you an apology as well, I’m afraid. I’m sorry I didn’t meet you. I was unavoidably detained.”

  Grayson studied her sharply then nodded. “I assumed as much.”

  Teddy peered around Grayson. “I thought your apology to Sam was nicely done as well.”

  “I do try,” Delilah said under her breath. Now that she had apologized in front of everyone, hopefully she could get through the meal without being curt.

  Or worse.

  Dinner was far easier and far more pleasant than Delilah had expected. Samuel and Grayson entertained the ladies with stories of their exploits and misadventures during Grayson’s years in America. Samuel was charming in a natural sort of way and mildly flirtatious with all three women but no more so than Grayson. American or not, one could scarcely find anything to criticize him for. He certainly paid Delilah no particular attention as if they had indeed just met. His gaze met hers no more often than it met Camille’s or Teddy’s. Exactly as she wanted. Still, why was it that she found very nearly everything he did so annoying?

  Regardless, Delilah was startled to realize she was having quite a nice time. Somewhere between the fish and the fowl she nearly forgot that she and Samuel had shared an adventure. His fault entirely, much to his credit. Why, she was actually enjoying his company.

  Not that she should be surprised by that. She had enjoyed his easy manner, so different from most gentlemen she knew, from nearly the first moment they’d met in New York. A moment that had, in many ways, changed her life. But then she was ripe for change. At least for a few days.

  It had started innocently enough. Grayson had had some sort of luncheon meeting and as Camille was to accompany him, he had asked Delilah if she would wait in the parlor in his suite for an expected delivery of important papers regarding some matter of business. Delilah couldn’t remember the details now and hadn’t really paid attention then, she’d been entirely too busy planning her afternoon. Grayson did say the papers would likely be delivered by an employee or assistant of a business
associate or something along those lines. Or at least that’s what she’d thought he’d said. He did mention a Mr. Moore, but Grayson and Camille had been in a hurry to depart so that detail had slipped by Delilah. Upon reflection, she should have paid more attention but it had seemed a minor point. Not paying as much mind to details as she should had long been her greatest flaw.

  So when Samuel arrived bearing those papers instead of Mr. Moore, and explaining Mr. Moore had some pressing problem to deal with, somehow Delilah had the distinct impression Samuel was the assistant and not the associate. It was a simple enough mistake and easily rectified but Samuel made no effort to do so at the time. Indeed, looking back on it, he had appeared oddly amused.

  “. . . and I would certainly never say that.” Teddy’s prim pronouncement belied the amusement in her eye. “Although, I’m not surprised Grayson would.”

  Samuel laughed. His gaze caught Delilah’s and he grinned. Delilah returned his smile even though she had no idea what the others were discussing. From the snatches of conversation that did register, she thought it had something to do with an incident that occurred years ago regarding Grayson, a small dog, a lady’s hat, and a train. Judging from the laughter around the table it was most amusing.

  Samuel was indeed most amusing without being silly, she’d give him that. At their first meeting, she had said something—she couldn’t recall what—and he had laughed. A laugh that struck her as genuine and quite contagious. Perhaps it was the setting, or the innate excitement of travel but before she knew it, they were engaged in a most lighthearted discussion over the trials and tribulations of travel. It was not at all like her to chat idly with a man she’d not been properly introduced to and yet it was a great deal of, well, fun. In truth, she hated to see it end. Which was probably why, in hindsight, she had introduced herself as Mrs. Hargate rather than Lady Hargate. She’d suspected tall, handsome, amusing strangers were far more likely to flirt with Mrs. Hargate than with Lady Hargate. Although admittedly, when the falsehood had flowed from her lips she hadn’t given the why of it any thought at all.

 

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