Dead Set Delphinia (Sweethearts of Jubilee Springs Book 12)

by Zina Abbott

  “Is your real name Delia Brownlee? Did you come here to marry one of the miners?”

  “It is really none of your concern, Mr. Nighy.”

  “Oh, but I think it is. As I recall, just this morning you asked me to marry you.”

  “As part of a business arrangement, Mr. Nighy. And you did not accept my proposal.”

  Bennett reached his free hand to tilt her chin so her eyes met his, annoyed that her two inch high boots elevated her face slightly above his. “I did not decline it either. I told you I would think about it, and if I decided I was interested, we would discuss the terms in detail later. Under those circumstances, I think it is not only right for me to know who is asking me to marry her, but I have a true picture of the exact nature of the business proposal. I need to know what I would be getting myself into.”

  “I assure you, Mr. Nighy, in spite of how things may appear at this point, I have no nefarious intentions. I would not have come to you with my proposal if I did not truly believe it would be beneficial to you and your business and leave you better off in a few years than you are now.” Delphinia took a deep breath. “I simply cannot talk about it right now. I believe I will borrow that lantern, if you don’t mind, and go back upstairs for my coat. I’m ready to go home.”

  Bennett shook his head. “No, you don’t want to do that. After the dressing down that bridal lady gave you, you do not want to slink away like a whipped dog with your tail tucked between your legs. I didn’t come here to dance, but I’ve decided I would like to dance at least once with you. I think I hear a waltz starting. Will you do me the honors?”

  Delphinia recognized the wisdom in his words. She offering the first hint of a smile he had seen all evening. “Are you sure after consuming all those desserts you can manage a waltz, Mr. Nighy?”

  “We can only hope, Miss…”

  “I still prefer Miss Brown. Thank you, Mr. Nighy. I would be honored to dance a waltz with you.”

  Bennett quickly placed the lit lantern outside where he had found it and returned to offer Delphinia his arm. He felt like every pair of eyes in the building were on him as he danced with the tall, elegant, beautifully overdressed woman who, with her infernal two inch heels and hair piled higher than the fourteen thousand foot mountain peaks that surrounded Jubilee Springs, towered over him. It was the first time he had danced since he was at West Point, but it all came back to him. He still didn’t think he had discovered everything she was hiding, but tonight was a start. He was more determined than ever to find out the rest.

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  CHAPTER 21

  ~o0o~

  As she danced with Bennett, Delphinia forced out a smile and assumed a relaxed pose that denied to anyone watching her any hint that anything was amiss in her life. She did her best to push back her thoughts, enjoy the music, and revel in the experience that was dancing with Bennett Nighy. He did dance well. Fortunately, he had not expected polite conversation. He allowed her the time to regain her composure.

  The waltz ended. The two stepped back from each other, but Bennett continued to hold her hand and they continued to gaze in each other’s eyes. The smile Delphinia wore then was not for show, but only one of gratitude for Bennett. She had little hope he would accept her proposal for a marriage of convenience now he knew of her duplicity—at least, he knew of the part involving Delia Brownlee. Mrs. Millard’s actions this night all but forced her into a position where she must leave Jubilee Springs on the next train to Denver. Still, she would always appreciate Bennett Nighy for not openly and publicly condemning her, but for helping her survive this evening with a shred of dignity intact.

  “Mr. Nighy, thank you. If you will now be so kind as to find a lantern so I may make my way up the stairs, I would like to retrieve my coat. I’m ready to walk back to the boarding house.”

  “I’ll be happy to escort you.”

  A voice Delphinia recognized, but was not happy to hear right then addressed her. “You look lovely tonight, Miss Brown. Are you enjoying our humble country dance?”

  With a bright smile plastered on her face, Delphinia turned to face Gerald Shumaker. “Why, yes I am, Mr. Shumaker. It has been a delightful evening.”

  Has Mrs. Millard talked to him? Does he know about Delia Brownlee?

  Delphinia worried if he discovered she was known by another alias other than the alias he knew her by, he might cancel his order with Bennett Nighy. She needed to, as quickly as she could, politely break off their conversation and leave.”

  “There you are, Mr. Shumaker. Say, by chance is this the lovely woman you told me about that persuaded your wife to buy half the furniture in Mr. Nighy’s store? You must introduce us.”

  Delphinia froze in place except for her hands which began to tremble. She clinched them into fists in order to stop the shaking. She didn’t recognize the voice, but she certainly recognized the New York accent. As much as she wished to avoid meeting Mr. Shumaker’s assistant bank manager, the man now stood directly behind her.

  Bennett stepped close and spoke softly in her ear. “Is everything all right?”

  Delphinia attempted to twitch the corners of her lips into a smile, but failed. “Of course.”

  Who is he? Who is he?

  Do I know him?

  Does he know me?

  The man stepped up next to her and Delphinia could sense him studying her profile. She flickered a glance his direction, then jerked her eyes forward so they once again focused on Gerald Shumaker’s face.

  I’ve seen him before.

  In New York.

  Where do I know him from?

  What’s his name?

  Is he one of my father’s men?

  A puzzled expression on his face, Gerald Shumaker tilted his head as he warily studied her. His words came out slow and uncertain. “Miss Brown, I’d like to introduce you to my assistant bank manager, Graham Wardell.”

  Delphinia’s eyes grew round. They now stared at Mr. Shumaker’s shirt collar without seeing it.

  Graham Wardell.

  Wardell.

  Where do I know that name from?

  Wardell.

  Wardell.

  They own a bank in New York.

  But not the one Father uses.

  Then why have I seen him before?

  Graham Wardell leaned closer and twisted his head to better see her face. “Miss Blakewell? Delphinia Blakewell of the New York Blakewells? What are you doing so far from home?”

  Delphinia felt like her heart would pound its way out of her chest as her lungs refused to draw air. Next thing she knew, she started to hyperventilate.

  What, indeed?

  This evening could not have gotten any worse.

  Don’t faint.

  That’s Mother’s trick.

  Don’t faint.

  Delphinia glanced to other side only to see Bennett wearing a puzzled expression as his eyes traveled back and forth between her and Graham Wardell.

  Deflect.

  Deflect.

  Delphinia spun on the balls of her feet until she stood facing Graham Wardell. She tipped her head up, jutted out her chin and offered him a smile. “I’m sorry, Mr. Graham, but you must be mistaken. I am Miss Sarah Brown, not this other person you named.”

  Graham Wardell slowly shook his head as he studied her face. No, Miss Blakewell, I’m not mistaken. We have been to a few of the same events due to us having a mutual acquaintance. I was at the dinner where your father announced your betrothal to Andrew Sopworth. He and his father are clients at my father’s bank.”

  Delphinia suddenly realized why she recognized Graham Wardell. The connection was Andrew. She knew she had to do something fast before everything fell apart and any opportunity for her to flee once more—to escape from her father and the wretched marriage he and her mother had engineered—had evaporated.

  Gerald Shumaker stood at her side, his face stern and suspicious. Delphinia did not want to even conside
r how Bennett Nighy, now standing behind her, had reacted to Mr. Wardell’s words. “Mr. Graham, a few minutes of your time, please. May we talk privately? I’d like to clear up this confusion there seems to be over who I am.”

  For the first time, Graham offered her a smile. “Certainly. Perhaps you will join me for this dance. Sometimes the best place to carry on a private conversation is on a crowded dance floor.” Graham Wardell offered Delphinia his arm. She rested her hand on it and regally followed him to another section of the room.

  The two danced several measures before Graham looked at Delphinia. “Miss Blakewell, as much as I am sure your father tried to keep the information quiet, people in New York know you have left town. I read in my copy of the New York Times that arrived on Friday’s train an article speculating on where you could have secluded yourself so close to your wedding date. You do have a wedding date set fairly soon, don’t you?”

  “Tomorrow. It is supposed to take place tomorrow.”

  Silence.

  “I dare say you are not going to be able to return to New York in time for your wedding.”

  “I don’t intend to return ever, Mr. Wardell. Andrew Sopworth was not my choice. He was foisted on me by my parents. That betrothal dinner you attended? I was tricked into going. I had no idea what my parents had planned until my father made the announcement.”

  Graham frowned. “That sounds a little incredulous, Miss Blakewell. Why would your father do that?”

  “Why do you think, Mr. Wardell? Among the best families, daughters are bought and sold for either financial or political advantage.”

  Deep in contemplation, Graham looked off into the distance for several dance steps. “I believe I understand what you’re saying, Miss Blakewell. Only considering the present financial circumstances of the Sopworth family, I can’t understand why your father is so intent on aligning himself with them.”

  “I know why I don’t wish any connection with Andrew Sopworth, Mr. Wardell, but why do you find it surprising my father does? They are supposed to be among New York’s elite.”

  In the soft light of the room, Delphinia thought she saw Graham blush. “Forgive me, Miss Blakewell, but I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you. The Sopworths are long-time clients of my father’s bank. While I still worked with my father, I had occasionally assisted him with the Sopworth accounts. Although I no longer work there, I still have a fiduciary responsibility to not disclose information I was privy to during to my earlier employment.”

  “I will not ask you to divulge any confidential information, Mr. Wardell. What I will ask of you is to promise me—swear to me—that you will not contact my parents or any of my father’s employees. Please tell no one you know where I am.”

  Graham frowned. “Your parents may be worried about you, Miss Blakewell. Don’t you think it best to let them know you are well?”

  “Mr. Wardell, my father is far more concerned about the loss of an asset, a bargaining chip, for his financial negotiations than he is for me personally. In the case of my mother, she’s more concerned about her social standing suffering a loss. I am of age, but that will not stop my father from sending his men to abduct me and force me to go back to honor commitments they made concerning my life without my knowledge or my consent. I beg you. Please promise me you will not contact my father about me being here or tell anyone else who may share that information with him.”

  Delphinia held her breath. Graham stared at her as they danced in silence. He finally responded. “I will promise to not tell your father or anyone with whom he associates you are in Jubilee Springs. I will try to smooth it over with Mr. Shumaker. Although I see no reason why he would feel the need to contact your father, I cannot promise anything when it comes to my employer.”

  Gerald Shumaker. Delphinia had almost forgotten about him. “I’m not obtuse, Mr. Wardell. He would contact my father, not out of concern for me, but because he would be doing a well-known and highly successful financial powerhouse a favor. In the future when he needs a favor, he would know where to go. In order to keep my freedom, I will have to leave Jubilee Springs, but I need a few days head start. Please do what you can to help me.”

  The dance ended. Graham placed Delphinia’s hand on his arm. “Where were you sitting, Miss Blakewell?”

  “I was preparing to leave. Mr. Nighy volunteered to see me home.”

  “I see. He’s by the coat pegs. I’ll leave you in his care.”

  ~o0o~

  Bennett stood with his back to the corner that connected the classroom to the foyer. He already had on his overcoat and derby. He had already gone upstairs, lit the gas lamps, and retrieved the coat and paisley shawl he recognized as belonging to Miss Sarah Brown, or Delia Brownlee, or Delphinia Blakewell—whatever the woman’s name was at any given moment.

  He had felt a stab of envy as he watched Delphinia dance with Graham Wardell. He knew Graham from the bank, and had always found him pleasant and helpful. However, at the present moment he was not a fan of the banker. Graham was taller than Bennett, and he and Delphinia made a better-looking couple, especially with her high heeled boots and her hair styled high atop her head.

  Bennett may have come to the harvest dance only for the food. Now he was dead set on seeing home the woman he had known as Sarah Brown. Events this night had provided him with some answers, but they left him with even more questions.

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  CHAPTER 22

  ~o0o~

  As soon as Graham Wardell handed Delphinia off to him with a nod before he walked away, Bennett wordlessly handed her the shawl. She draped it around her neck and ears, then slipped her arms in the coat he held for her. In silence she buttoned the coat before she took Bennett’s offered arm. He picked up his lantern as they exited the building.

  “Please step carefully going down the stairs, Miss…” Bennett didn’t know how to address her, so he left the sentence hanging. “Since some of the snow melted and it is now cold enough ice could have formed, the steps might be slippery.”

  “Thank you for the warning, Mr. Nighy.”

  Bennett waited until they were well away from the school building before he spoke. “When I arrived tonight, I knew you as Miss Sarah Brown. I have since heard you addressed by two other names.”

  Silence.

  “If I had agreed to your proposal of a marriage of convenience, which name would you have used on the marriage register?”

  “The issue is moot, Mr. Nighy. I won’t be staying in Jubilee Springs.”

  “Why? Are you afraid Mrs. Millard will bandy your name as Delia Brownlee about town and you’ll be the object of gossip? Are you afraid Mr. Wardell will tell everyone you are Miss Blakewell of the New York Blakewells? Or, are you afraid your father will descend on town and reclaim you?”

  “All of the above, Mr. Nighy. Besides, how can you be sure Mr. Wardell was correct about me? Perhaps there are no New York Blakewells. Perhaps he made that claim in an effort to flirt with me, attract my attention away from you or Mr. Shumaker?”

  “Because you just admitted you are afraid of your father’s arrival. And I am aware of the New York Blakewells, Miss Blakewell. I knew Dionysus Blakewell.

  Insufferable, obnoxious prig.

  Bennett felt the backwards tug on his arm as Delphinia came to a dead stop. He turned to see her staring at him in disbelief. He continued speaking, all the while watching her reaction. “I have also heard of your older brother, Ulysses, although I have never met him. Sometimes I’ll receive a package from my aunt with issues of my hometown newspaper. News from Albany, it being the state capital, has more than once included some snippet of the bills the up-and-coming assemblyman, Ulysses Blakewell of New York, is pushing through state government. And you must be the stubborn, demanding, beanpole little sister that selfishly dominated her father’s time and tried to learn mannish things rather than how to become a proper lady like she should to be.”

  With a sigh, D
elphinia resumed walking. “That sounds like something Dion would say. Even with six years separating us, he was the closest in age to me, yet I got along better with Ulysses who was older. How is it you know Dionysus?”

  “He was a year ahead of me at West Point.”

  Delphinia blinked in confusion. “Then you have been an Army officer. I’m surprised you are not still in uniform, Mr. Nighy.”

  Bennett shook his head. “I decided I wasn’t cut out for military life. I walked away my last year and never graduated.”

  “From West Point?” Delphinia sucked in her breath. Even she knew one didn’t lightly make the decision to walk away from West Point. “Why is that, Mr. Nighy? You didn’t care to become an officer and a gentleman and fight this nation’s battles?”

  “Too much of what the Army is engaged in now is police action, acting as prison guards making sure the Indian tribes stay on the reservations to which they have been forced. There they watch them live in sometimes wretched conditions and slowly starve to death because too many white men enrich themselves by fraudulently taking the food, cattle and supplies promised by treaty to the natives. Then there was the politics within the military, the boot-licking in order to get ahead.” Bennett shook his head. “It wasn’t for me. In my last year, I went home for my maternal grandfather’s funeral. I learned he had bequeathed me all his woodworking tools, jigs and his patterns. I took them, sent my letter of resignation to West Point, boarded a train traveling west, and here I am today.”

  “It’s too bad you didn’t realize you did not wish to make the Army your career before you went to all the work to gain an appointment to West Point.”

  “It didn’t matter what I thought.” Bennett sighed and stopped walking. Why was he telling her all this? He had made it a point all these years to not discuss this period in his life with anyone. “It was my father’s idea. His connections got me my appointment. My father is big on our family’s military tradition. He came out of West Point just in time to fight in the war with Mexico. He served as a captain of a New York volunteer regiment in our most recent war. My grandfather fought in the War of 1812, and on it goes. My father insisted one of his sons carry on the military tradition. Unfortunately, he earmarked my older brother to learn and inherit the family business. It fell to me to go to West Point.”