Through Gypsy Eyes

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Through Gypsy Eyes Page 8

by Killarney Sheffield


  She bit her lip. I did seem a strange coincidence, and the courtship was a bit too drawn out for one so eager to return to London. As the baron pointed out earlier, nothing was amiss until the earl arrived. Except perhaps for the thefts, although those could have been done since his coming, too. Her mind churned with the possibilities of his deceit and self-proclaimed innocence. There was naught she could do but stick to her normal routine and keep her wits about her until she wed the baron.

  • • •

  Delilah sensed him there when she entered the dining room. She allowed the footman to guide her to her seat without a word and place the linen napkin across her lap. Wine gurgled into the glass to the right of her plate before a bowl was placed before her. A smile curled her lips at the scent. Potato soup with tiny bits of salty bacon, thick cream, and wild onions. One of my favorites. Lord Frost interrupted her pleasure.

  “Did you have an enjoyable ride with the baron today?”

  She froze with her spoon halfway to her mouth. It appeared he did not know of the accident earlier in the day, or was pretending not to. Should she call his bluff, if in fact it was one? Undecided she answered. “I did not enjoy it, as a matter of fact.”

  “Why not?” His silverware clinked against the edge of a bowl and then a short puff of air whistled through his lips.

  “I do not like riding any horse other than Jester, for starters.” She blew on her own scoop of soup before savoring it.

  “For starters? What else about the afternoon met with your disapproval? Was the baron forward or not solicitous of your needs?”

  She set her spoon down. “On the contrary, Augustus was most attentive. In fact, he saved me from a horrible fall.”

  His spoon clattered to the table. “What fall? What happened?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me, my lord.” Her fingers twisted the napkin in her lap into a knot. Would he admit he injured her horse? That was doubtful, but he might quit trying to cause her distress if he knew she and the baron were onto his schemes.

  “What are you talking about?”

  With all the courage she could muster she explained. “Someone shot my mount with an arrow. The groom found the evidence. Augustus kept me from harm by scooping me off the horse when it bolted.”

  “And you think I shot the animal?” He couldn’t have sounded more surprised if she accused him of killing his own child.

  Doubt niggled at her mind. Maybe she was wrong. Or perhaps he was just a good actor. “Well, the baron was with me at the time, so it could not have been him.”

  He snorted. “And the fact I was not there makes me your prime suspect?”

  He did have a point. She shrugged.

  “Bloody hell! Are you serious? I wondered why the king sent me out here to see you wed. It is obvious now. He sent me here to determine whether you are completely noddy.”

  Her bottled anger uncorked, clawing its way to the surface. “Someone is trying to hurt me and you dare call me noddy? My life was not in peril until you showed up!” She cringed when his fist slammed into the table top, the vibration radiating with his own indignation.

  “By all that is holy, I swear you are the stubbornest woman I have ever met. I try to tell you your servants are stealing from you, yet you refute the idea. Now someone, by your own admission, is trying to harm you, yet I am the villain?”

  Scrambling to her feet she tossed her napkin, not caring if it landed on the table or the floor. “Now I am stubborn as well as noddy? Are there any other character flaws you would like to add? Since you see so many disparaging traits, it is a wonder you think to pawn me off on any man!”

  His chair scraped across the floor. “Perhaps it would be best to speed up the nuptials for your safety.”

  He stomped from the room and she winced as the front door slammed behind him, smothering an ungentlemanly profanity.

  Delilah returned to her seat and stirred her soup absently. Was she being stubborn? Perhaps she should not have accused him of treachery, after all she didn’t have any firm evidence of such on his behalf, and most of the time he seemed solicitous of her needs. Her mind wandered back to reading on the lawn. She enjoyed the rousing sea tale and the rumble of his deep voice as he read to her. A smile tweaked the corners of her lips. He even changed his voice to fit each character in the book, something her father never did. It made immersing herself in the tale that much easier.

  She shook the pleasant memory from her mind. The earl would be returning to London and she would be married to the baron in short order. There was no point in getting used to the earl’s companionship. The sooner she wed the better. The earl did not care for her; after all he did not bother to ask after her welfare or even that of the injured horse. Convincing her of her servants’ traitorous intents and marrying her off was all he cared about.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Delilah waved away her maid. “Enough of this, do whatever is acceptable and leave me be.”

  Teresa heaved a sigh. “But Miss Daysland, you want everything to be perfect for the grand day. There are so many things to be done and mere days to complete the list.”

  “Please.” A groan escaped her lips. Delilah fumbled for the cup of tea on the table beside her. “Teresa, you have been with me since I can remember, so may I confide in you?”

  “Of course, miss, I would never betray your confidence.”

  She smiled, knowing the truth of the maid’s words. There was no one more loyal than Teresa. “This marriage of mine is naught but an agreement between the baron and myself to further our own agendas.”

  The maid giggled. “Isn’t that the way of most marriages, miss?”

  Delilah grimaced. “No, no, not like that exactly. Once the vows have been read I will return here to live as I did before. The marriage will be in name only, ensuring my continued way of life and the baron the funds to refurbish his estate.”

  “I see, miss. Lord Frost has already found appointments for much of the staff. Is the baron to hire new servants?”

  “No, and Lord Frost is not to know of the arrangement with the baron. I want you to pick half a dozen house servants who are most loyal to me and arrange for them to stay back after everyone leaves. I will return a day or two after the nuptials are complete and then everything will be as before.” She took a sip of her tea and smiled. “At last, things will be as they were, quiet and predictable.”

  “As you wish, miss.”

  She noted the maid’s exit, well pleased with herself. Take that, Lord Frostbite. I have bested you at your own game. The grin on her lips slipped as she made her way to the veranda doors. Somehow the hard fought victory seemed petty now. Why did she feel so guilty for deceiving the earl? It wasn’t as if her deceit would hurt anyone … Opening the doors she stood and savored the mid-afternoon breeze. The light cadence of hooves proved Jester was there, as always, waiting for her.

  “Good afternoon, Jester. Shall we go for a walk?”

  The pony nickered soft and low, brushing against her skirts.

  “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  Delilah spun around at the sound of the earl’s voice. “You startled me, my lord.”

  “I am sorry, it was not my intention. I thought you would have heard me approach.”

  “That’s nearly an impossible feat, for a man you walk like a cat on the prowl.” With a sigh she smoothed the wrinkles of annoyance from her brow with her fingertips. “Forgive me for being snappish — I am not myself today it would seem. Must be this confounded heat.”

  His hand closed over hers and he shifted it to rest on the soft fabric of his sleeve. “It is understandable given the weather and all the excitement of your upcoming nuptials.”

  Her stomach coiled at the thought of the dreaded day she kept at bay in her sub consciousness. “Perhaps.”

  “Miss Daysland, I … ”

  “Yes?” Delilah forced her breathing to remain steady.

  “I wondered if there was anything you need, for the nuptials
I mean.”

  In effort to ignore her guilty conscience she forced a stiff smile to her lips. “No, there is nothing, my lord, thank you for asking.”

  “Oh.”

  Was his response one of relief or disappointment? She couldn’t discern. They continued down the path in unnerving silence for a while.

  Coming to an abrupt halt the earl rotated to take both her hands in his. “You will not hesitate to come to me if you should need me … I mean, need anything?”

  “Of course, my lord.” His breath tickled her forehead. For a moment she wondered why his breath always smelled so sweet. Did he chew mint leaves? Perhaps it was some kind of soap he used. She sniffed before she could help herself. No, there was a mild vanilla scent of soap to him, beneath the herb.

  He chuckled. “Do you enjoy my scent?”

  Heat flooded her face and she shrugged from his light grip. “I just wondered why you always smell of mint.”

  “I drink it seeped into a tea.”

  “Oh.” She puzzled his answer for a moment. “I would have thought you would drink something stronger, my lord.”

  “Stronger? No, I dislike most spirits and liquor. Mint is good for the digestion I hear. Why is it you always smell delightfully of citrus?”

  Pleasure at his notice curved her lips. “I love oranges. I eat one every day and have the juice infused in the special soap I use for my hair. It keeps my locks clean and easier to untangle.”

  “I shall remember that,” he murmured.

  Would he? Silence stretched between them and Delilah fidgeted with the ribbon on her sleeve. “Is there something else, my lord?”

  “I just wondered if perhaps you would care to read for a while? It is so nice a day out … ”

  Since Delilah could think of no suitable excuse and she was eager to hear the rest of the story she nodded. Besides, it seemed safe enough to admit to herself that she rather enjoyed sitting with him. As they seated themselves on a bench by the path she pondered her conflicting emotions. He is not the enemy anymore. By accepting the baron’s false suit I vanquished the earl from foe to friend, have I not? Still, if it was not for him I would not have had to even consider the idea of marriage. She groaned internally. Either he is a friend or a foe, he cannot be both. Maybe I really am noddy.

  “Now, let’s see, where did we leave off last time?”

  Casting her thoughts aside she redirected her attention to the story. “We were at the part where the pirate captain was about to make the hero walk the plank into the shark filled waters below.” A small shiver of excitement stole up Delilah’s spine.

  “Ah, right, here we are. A most exciting part to be sure. John stepped to the end of the plank, the captain’s sword point resting between his shoulder blades and looked down at the churning water … ”

  Delilah lost herself in the tale, the earl’s smooth voice adding to her enjoyment.

  • • •

  The earl closed the book with a slight snap. “Shall we leave off there for today?”

  “I suppose, though I am dying to know how John is going to escape from the collapsed tomb. He must save his love, Maria, for if he does not it will be a most disappointing tale.”

  Lord Frost chuckled. “Ah, so you do have a romantic streak, Miss Daysland.”

  “Of course, every woman desires romance.”

  His voice softened. “Do you desire romantic gestures from the baron, Delilah?”

  Delilah bit her lip. “No. I mean, perhaps under different circumstances. There is nothing romantic about being forced to marry, my lord.”

  A hint of regret colored his reply. “I am sorry this match is not the one every lady dreams of. It was not my intention to force you into anything you did not desire. Marriage is a necessity for you under the circumstances.”

  “In the king’s eyes only.” She struggled to keep her tears of frustration at bay. “It is simply not fair that I do not have a say in the matter. My father did not seek to see me wed, why should the king care?”

  Silence stretched between them until it was broken by the earl’s heavy sigh. “It is the king’s duty to see to the welfare of his subjects, and mine to do as he requests.”

  Delilah crossed her arms. “Why, because you are his loyal subject?”

  “Yes, no, it is more complicated than that.”

  “I fail to see how.”

  “It is a political matter.”

  “My welfare is a political matter?” Delilah snorted. “I assure you, my lord, there can be no possible political reason to force me into marriage. My father was a simple country squire and poet, not a political figure.”

  The earl shifted beside her on the bench. “The politics are between the king and I, and have naught to do with your father. I have designs on becoming the next leader of the Whig party and as such need the backing of the king to seek such a high appointment. He has offered his support in exchange for my help in this matter.”

  “Oh.” Delilah dropped her hands to her lap. “So, I am naught but a political agenda. No one is concerned about what I want or need.”

  “That is not true, Delilah. I care about what you want and need. I know you want some romantic notion of love but there is not time for months or years of searching for a true love that may never be found. After all, most men and women live happily in their marriages without love at all, that is the way of it.”

  “As you pointed out, my lord, I am not like most women.”

  “Indeed you are not.” The earl stood and squeezed her hand. “If you will excuse me, I have some pressing business matters to attend.”

  The dried leaves crunched beneath his feet as he moved in the direction of the house.

  Delilah leaned back on the bench. Why did that have to be the way of it?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Delilah rolled over the morning of her wedding and groaned. Hours of strange dreams made her toss and turn until the wee hours, leaving her tired and out of sorts. Flopping onto her back, she assessed the situation. Since the incident on the horse there were no other unusual occurrences, for which she was grateful. Still, the strain of expecting one wore her nerves raw.

  Perhaps she was too rash in accepting the baron’s suit. Maybe she could still back out. She frowned as the downstairs clock struck ten, its forlorn chimes echoing throughout the great house. The wedding guests would be here in mere hours. With a sigh she rang for Teresa. There was no turning back now. It wouldn’t be so bad. After a few days at the baron’s to accomplish the ruse, she could return to her former life.

  The door opened with a click. “You must hurry and dress, Miss Daysland,” Teresa chirped, far too merry for Delilah’s resigned mood. “His lordship did say to let you sleep in this morning, but I’ll not be responsible for you being late.”

  Was the earl trying to sabotage the wedding? Delilah almost wished he would. How romantic would it be if he called a halt to the proceedings and announced his everlasting love just like in some of the romantic poems her father wrote? She frowned. Good Lord, I am as noddy as everyone else believes. As if it would ever happen. “Let us get on with this.” Swinging her legs over the side of the bed she got up and counted the steps to the dressing table. With little enthusiasm she waited while Teresa fastened her corset in place and tugged the laces. “Not so tight, Teresa, I should like to be able to breathe.”

  The maid giggled. “Yes, miss.”

  When she finished Delilah sat so the maid could fix her hair.

  “Shall I pin your hair with the seashell combs your mother left you?”

  Delilah shrugged. “Do as you please.”

  It didn’t take long. With a sigh Teresa gave it one last pat, her tone well pleased with herself. “Perfect. Now which dress would you prefer to wear today?”

  “What difference should it make to me? This day is designed to get my life back, the cut and color of my gown will not change it.” When the maid sighed Delilah relented. “You decide what will flatter me most, Teresa.”

&nb
sp; “Hmm … I should think the deep violet muslin, for it matches your eyes so beautifully.”

  Delilah tried to recall the exact shade of her eyes, but the color eluded her memory. “A good choice, Teresa.” Standing, she held up her arms to be clothed with the delicate gown. “I feel like I am being cheated, like I’m cheating myself.”

  Teresa’s gentle hands guided Delilah to turn around and then she began to do up the tiny row of buttons along the back of the gown. “How so, miss?”

  “One’s wedding day should be filled with excitement and anticipation. I cannot help but wish I was marrying some handsome young man who spouts poetry to my loveliness and makes my heart flutter. It sounds silly I know.”

  “It does not sound silly at all. The baron is not unhandsome, if you’ll permit me saying, miss.”

  “Perhaps, but this is hardly the day of my dreams. If my father were still here … ” Delilah squared her shoulders. “Listen to me pining on about silly dreams. I agreed to the arrangement because it is practical and accomplishes my goal.” When Teresa fastened the last button Delilah turned around and favored her with a weak smile. “It is almost time.”

  • • •

  The clock downstairs didn’t finish striking twelve when the knock Delilah was dreading came. She turned to face it as the maid hurried to open the door. Goosebumps rose along her arms from the slight draft as it opened.

  The earl cleared his throat. “You look lovely, Miss Daysland.”

  “I shall have to take your word for it,” she snapped. “I am sorry, my lord, thank you for the compliment. I am nervous and did not mean to be short.”

  His footsteps whispered across the carpet and then ceased before her. “That is perfectly understandable. Perhaps on such a momentous occasion we can dispense with the formality? Call me Tyrone.” Warm fingers closed over hers and then he placed a wide flat box on her palm. “I brought you a wedding gift.”

  She ran her fingers over the textured surface. “What is it?”

 

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