"Miss Delia would be better having no acquaintance at all, my lord, than entertaining all and sundry."
Rupert was pleased to be sardonic. "All and sundry? Good God Delia, who would be your other guests?"
Delia glared at her companion. Rupert was rebuked with a glance. But she responded evenly to his inquiry. "Major Rhyle, of course, and Mr. Taunton, who would perhaps escort his mother and sister. Oh, the numbers are uneven! Well Maria, the younger sister of Susannah might join us. It is not a formal affair. If you agree, I shall visit Lady Slimbridge tomorrow and beg their company most prettily."
"As you wish," Rupert said. "It may aid Charles greatly. You are kind to trouble yourself, given your dislike of the ton."
"I have no dislike of the ton," she denied. "I merely thought to avoid the Season. However, I am here, and I am drawn into society. I had as well make the best of it. And it is no trouble to aid Charles," Delia said. "I regard him a brother."
The earl's mood was transformed. His blue eyes darkened to indigo. "I shall be at Carlton House this evening," he informed her. An uncomfortable silence fell.
Delia did not immediately respond to the challenge he instilled in his words.
As the port was brought to the table, Mrs. Lochmaddy excused herself.
Before following her companion from the chamber, Delia queried, "Must you go out?"
He stared at her. With scarcely concealed anguish, he replied, "Yes. Even did the Regent not command it, I could not spend the evening in quiet company with you."
She blushed deeply and he knew that she was aware that such an evening, which they had spent happily in previous days, was no longer possible. And that it was because of the love that was now declared between them.
"I have had word of Augustus," Rupert regained his composure with effort. "He is on the continent. He has left Brussels and I shall be apprized shortly of his destination."
"His information is all I wait upon," Delia said. She turned to follow Morag to the small withdrawing room.
"I know it," retorted Torgreave.
***
"Miss Tyninghame, we are delighted to have you returned."
There was no doubting Lady Slimbridge's sincerity, Delia thought. She seated herself on a comfortable sopha in the impeccable drawing room of the Slimbridges' rented townhouse.
Her hostess turned aside for a moment, to request of the butler that her two eldest daughters be informed of her guest.
"Thank you for your welcome," Delia responded with equal sincerity. She had grown to like the brisk, sensible lady. "I know my appearance is unexpected. I had the intention of returning to Edinburgh, but Manningford requires much refurbishment. The earl asked me to undertake it. And then of course the Prince Regent required his presence, so I have put off my departure."
"We were all much impressed by news of the earl's activities during the recent hostilities." Lady Slimbridge seated herself and took up her needlework.
"All?" Delia queried. A mischievous sparkle brightened her eyes.
Her ladyship laughed ruefully. "Not all," she admitted. "Quite honestly, Sir Thomas is as stubborn as...as I know not what. He will not accept that the earl might have changed, might have learned from past indiscretions."
"Well, I can understand that living at Manningford will not have endeared him, or any of you, to my cousin. I feel I must apologize for the state of the house. It was quite shocking, and I can only beg for your indulgent forgiveness. I know more of the earl now, than when first I made his acquaintance." She chose her words with care. "In his defense I can say only that his youth was difficult. His feelings towards his inheritance were in such disarray that he was not entirely just in his dealings with Sir Thomas. He should have allowed you to do as you would in the house."
"As to that my dear, Sir Thomas' stubbornness would not have permitted him to do anything in any event. It was only my desire to dwell in that neighbourhood that led to our leasing the property. All has ended well by the by, for Sir Thomas has chosen to purchase a property, in Warwickshire."
"That is good news," Delia exclaimed with genuine pleasure. "You will be pleased to be at home."
"I shall," Lady Slimbridge confirmed with a quiet smile.
The two eldest Slimbridge daughters entered the chamber.
Delia greeted them affectionately, and knew immediately that despite Charles' fears, Susannah's affections had undergone no change. Her smile was as sunny and her manners as unaffected as ever.
"How do you go on? Are you enjoying town?" Delia asked. She was inundated with animated response. When eventually the young ladies' chatter diminished, she said, "I have come to extend an invitation." She had all the attention she could wish from Susannah and Maria. "It is for you all. Yes Maria, even you! Charles' birthday is next week, and I thought to hold a little gathering in his honour. Only ten or a dozen friends for dinner, and a conversable evening."
"I am working him a pair of slippers," Susannah cried, then blushed becomingly. "I...I was aware of his birthday," she faltered, under her mama's reproving gaze. But that lady did not reprimand her.
"This is very kind," Lady Slimbridge said. Her response came slowly, and Delia could divine that she was considering her options. "I wonder if I can convince Sir Thomas...?"
"I hope you can, for the earl is set upon reform. He wishes his brother's happiness. And he tells me, that for himself, he desires only to retire to Manningford when the Prince Regent has done with him. He does most sincerely dislike the bustle being made at the moment about his exploits."
Lady Slimbridge sighed. "Sir Thomas has also taken it in dislike, and may be difficult to convince."
"Well I shall leave you with that problem. I am arranging with Mr. Grillon for Wednesday week if you can join us." Delia rose to take her leave.
A determined light appeared in Lady Slimbridge's grey eyes as she surveyed her daughters' hopeful faces. "You may depend upon us," she stated.
***
On a cloudy Tuesday afternoon, Delia regarded the list in her hand with a sigh. She had sent out the invitations for her dinner party, and her preparations were nearly complete.
She pulled nearer the writing desk that Rupert had given her, and stroked her hand thoughtfully over its smooth surface. It had been a mistake to return to London. Every day she spent in Rupert's company made it more difficult to think of separation. The strain was telling on them both. He was kindness itself, when he appeared, but his tension was palpable and the carved lines that bracketed his beautiful mouth had deepened. For herself, her appetite was nonexistent, and her rest disturbed. The work she was doing for Manningford she regarded as an expression of her love for Torgreave, the only expression of it she would allow herself. Her choices would surround him at Manningford when she had returned to Edinburgh; her favourite forms, colours and decorations would remind him of her love.
A tear streaked the mahogany of the writing box, and puckered the paper she withdrew from it, but her melancholy was interrupted by the opening of the door.
It was Bowland. "Major Rhyle, Miss Delia," he announced with a cheerful nod. The tensions of the household had not gone unnoticed by its retainers. Bowland and Morag Lochmaddy had held several fruitless discussions on the matter.
"Show the Major in," she said blinking back her tears, and responding to Bowland's subtle encouragement.
The big man entered, and Bowland closed the door quietly.
Delia suspected the major's keen eyes detected her distress. He said nothing of it, only remarking, "So now Bowland is butler. He'll enjoy that. He's been all things to Rupert, from tiger to nursemaid."
"He is a fine valet too."
"And loyal," Rhyle agreed. "I tried to hire him away from Rupert more than once. He said I'm too big to do his efforts justice."
Delia laughed, her melancholy fading.
"The sun has come out. Will you drive out with me?"
"I should be glad to," she responded. "I shall fetch my bonnet, if you will wait."
<
br /> He bowed politely, as she hurried off, and he was placidly regarding the street below from the window when she returned. He turned and because he was after all a very presentable gentleman, she was glad that her gypsy bonnet framed her face becomingly and her pelisse was freshly trimmed.
"You look charmingly," he said.
She hurried into speech fearing that he would enlarge on his feelings. "I brought only a few seasonal garments with me from Edinburgh, so I have had to make several purchases to aid me for the change of seasons."
He made no response but offered her his arm as they descended to the entry of the hotel. In the street, he assisted her into his carriage, a simple elegant phaeton suited to his size, drawn by fine chestnuts.
"You need have no worry that I shall declare sentiments you do not wish to hear," he said. He nodded to his groom in dismissal and gave the horses the office to start. "I understand your position, and your...attachments...very well. Under different circumstances, who can tell?" He shrugged his massive shoulders. "But I regard you simply as a friend...which Rupert most certainly does not."
She blushed deeply. "Is it so obvious?"
He considered seriously. "No it is not. But I have an extra regard for Rupert, and I have come to care about you. This is not easy for either of you, and though I am pleased to enjoy your company, I am not certain you have chosen wisely in returning from Edinburgh."
"You sound like my aunt," Delia ventured a shaky laugh.
"Good God," he exclaimed. "Don't tell them that at the Depot."
She chuckled once more, but sobering admitted, "I have thought myself I should not have come. But let us not talk of that. Tell me, how can you and the Captain be so little occupied?"
"We have in fact a great deal of work, but it is irregular. I was at Prinny's beck and call until four o'clock this morning."
"But 'tis only eleven now," she exclaimed. She gestured about them at the near- deserted Park.
"Soldiers do not sleep," he jested, then sobered. "In fact, I had rather be on the march than doing the pretty. I was seconded to the Office and have applied for a return to the field."
"The army is your career then?"
"It is," he confirmed. "And it was I who involved Rupert in the war effort. When I returned from Spain and discovered him still drinking himself to death, I was concerned. I mentioned the possibility of espionage work, in the nature of a distraction for him. We were in need of someone the French did not fear. I blamed myself many times afterward for he put himself in great danger, but it has turned out well enough, for which I thank God."
"Though he blames you for this lionizing."
"He deserves it. And I think he enjoys it a little at least."
Delia's attention was distracted, and she queried, "Major, there is a lady in that carriage. She has been staring at me these several minutes. Do you know why?"
Rhyle turned his head and stared quellingly at the woman Delia discreetly indicated. He drove on before speaking.
"Well?" Delia demanded.
"That was no lady," he said. "A demi-mondaine, one of the few who knew Rupert well. She will be astonished at your resemblance."
Delia was silenced by shame for Rupert, then said, "I could never live in London."
"Because of such happenings? As I have told you previously, rumour has exaggerated his peccadilloes. His greatest fault was drink, and that he did to forget."
A uniformed rider appeared very suddenly, beside the carriage, and Rhyle pulled up his horses.
The message was urgent, from the Foreign Office.
"I am sorry but I shall have to go," the Major said to Delia. "I will see you home."
"It is unfortunate," she said with genuine regret. "Ah look! Perhaps I can save you the trip. There is Miss Taunton, and presumably that is Lady Taunton. I shall beg a seat in their carriage."
"Has Egon been pestering you?" Rhyle queried. He maneuvered his phaeton to intercept Lady Taunton's barouche.
"He has. I am become sister to you all and matchmaker extraordinary. I will be pleased to make Lady Taunton's acquaintance, previous to Charles' birthday party. We shall see you at our supper?"
He drew up his horses and prepared to assist her conversation with the occupants of the other carriage. "Nothing will prevent it," he assured her.
***
Delia hurried through her dressing, despite Morag Lochmaddy's grumbles, on the evening of the party. Her nerves were fine drawn, and she wished to consider her arrangements once more before the guests arrived.
"Mr. Grillon will leave nothing undone," Morag assured her brusquely. She coaxed a curl from Delia's luxuriant knot of hair.
"I wish to examine the dining table. You know I always do so at home."
"Well, I have done." Morag stood back to scrutinize her work. From the top of Delia's black curls threaded with silver cord, to her narrow blue silk slippers, she was perfection. A lacy necklace of fine sapphires accentuated the smooth swell of bosom revealed by her celestial blue silk gown and a cloud of silver gauze concealed her slender figure.
"And I have left you no more than enough time to get into your own gown," Delia said.
"Time enough," the Scotswoman said.
"You do not object to playing duenna so often?" Delia sought reassurance.
Morag met her gaze squarely. "The first time I saw the earl's wicked blue eyes, I vowed to protect your good name. And so I shall."
Delia did not know whether to laugh or weep at that abrupt response. She hurried off to the dining room. The sight of Torgreave, already considering the table shimmering with crystal and silver, brought her to a sudden, silent halt. He was unaware of her arrival, and she took the opportunity to absorb his image within her memory yet again.
His evening dress molded his slim, strong frame, the deep blue coat echoing the vivid blue of his eyes, and the dark, tight pantaloons accentuating his long legs. The lack of effete ruffling on his shirt emphasized the hard, masculine planes of his face, and the subtle canescent embroidery on his white waistcoat could not conceal the sleek muscularity of his chest and shoulders.
Delia collected herself, and moving to his side, made her presence known. He turned his dark head and smiled lovingly at her. The wicked blue eyes that Mrs. Lochmaddy descried dwelled upon her. Where his eyes lingered, Delia quivered with a rush of confused warmth.
"You are beautiful," he said.
She drew a shaky breath, and strove for a light tone, saying, "I wonder what stratagems Lady Slimbridge has had to employ to convince Sir Thomas to come to us?"
Rupert took a step towards her. She could only guess his intent, but voices sounded in the entry and he merely offered his arm. "We shall soon know," he said.
She laid her gloved hand on his sleeve, and they entered the small drawing room.
Charles strode in from his chamber, a look of painful eagerness on his face.
A footman announced Major Rhyle. As he entered he swept a look around the room, and rumbled a laugh. "If I did not know that I had certainly been invited, your looks of disappointment would make me wonder." Overwhelmingly fine in his dress uniform, he bent over Delia's hand.
She hurried to dissuade him of the idea that he was not welcome. "We are in anticipation of the Slimbridges," she informed him. "Charles for obvious reasons, and Rupert and I in awe of Lady Slimbridge's stratagems."
"You always look like an entire regiment when you get into full dress," the earl mocked his friend by way of greeting.
"You envy the height and breadth of shoulder, do you?" Rhyle countered.
He exchanged nods with Charles who grinned at the patent foolishness. The earl did not appear a small man even beside his immense friend.
They were all laughing when Mr. Taunton with his mother and his sister were announced. On their first meeting, Lady Taunton had been astonished by Delia's resemblance to the earl. On this occasion, she was visibly curious but made no comment.
Charles' slight reserve on greeting the Honourable Hugh
went unnoticed by all except Delia. More apparent was Aurora Taunton's delight at being in the company of the earl and the major.
Her artless conversation held the company's attention for several minutes before she found excuse to draw Delia aside. "Is Captain Finglas invited tonight?" she queried.
"He is," Delia responded. "Does it matter very much?"
"Indeed it does. I...He...I like him exceedingly, his stories of Ireland, even his stammer!" Miss Taunton seemed a little defensive.
"He is a dear, kind man," Delia commented. "But sensitive I think. He should not be trifled with. I believe his emotions to run deep."
"I would not...well, some people think me flighty and inconstant but indeed, I do not believe it of myself."
"I am pleased to hear it," Delia said. "Ah here are the Slimbridges."
The new arrivals became the focus of attention, for there were introductions to be made and greetings exchanged.
Lady Slimbridge was all confident sociability, and Susannah was charming in pale jonquil silk. Maria was awed into unaccustomed silence. Sir Thomas was as jumpy, thought Delia, as a fox scenting the hounds. His pale eyes surveyed the company, and seemed to approve. When he was introduced to the earl however his gaze sharpened. Delia hurried to support Rupert.
"Humph, remarkable resemblance," he muttered surveying them. "Miss Tyninghame your servant." He bowed her hand.
"It is a pleasure to see you again Sir Thomas, and to have you join us." From the corner of her eye, Delia saw Charles draw Susannah to one side, and thanked heaven for Lady Taunton who joined them with Aurora in tow.
"You've been paraded all over town," Sir Thomas snapped at the earl.
"Not by my wish," the earl responded equably.
"Don't like spies, but I understand your work was important," the older man continued. His tone was grudging.
"It seemed so to me, but was little effort compared to that of the men in the field." Torgreave met the smaller man's gaze directly.
"Do you know Major Gideon Rhyle?" Delia asked Sir Thomas. She beckoned to Rupert's friend. When the big man strode up, the earl made the necessary introduction and then stepped aside. A little ripple of relief went about the company, as the major drew Sir Thomas into conversation.
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