The Miseducation of Miss Delilah: A Sweet Regency Romance (School of Charm Book 3)

by Maggie Dallen

  “I think I understand quite well,” she said. “You wish to destroy my husband.”

  He flinched at her use of that word. He would kill Everley first before he ever let him get his hands on this woman.

  For a man who prided himself on his even-keeled nature, he barely recognized what was happening to him. This was an investigation. One that had personal ties to him, yes, but it was still his work. His mission.

  He couldn’t let his emotions get involved.

  Not again.

  That was how Everley had bested him the last time. And he’d sworn he wouldn’t let that happen again.

  “You didn’t deny it,” she said.

  He hadn’t. How could he? He wished for nothing less than the complete ruin of Lord Everley.

  “Which means,” she said slowly. “You wish to destroy me, as well.”

  His brows drew down as he took a step toward her. If she’d retreated, he might have stopped. But she didn’t. This foolish girl was too stubborn for her own good. So invested in her bravado that she’d leap headlong into this match out of sheer spite, he had no doubt. “Now look here, Delilah.”

  “It is Miss Clemmons to you,” she said pertly, her head tilted back so she could maintain eye contact. “Soon to be Lady Everley.” She took a step back, but not out of fear from his towering height—no, her step was regal and controlled as she gestured toward the door. “I believe we are done here.”

  “But you do not—”

  “I said, we are through.” Her mouth grew pinched and he hated it. Such a shame to lose those beautiful lush lips to an expression like that. Like she’d just sucked on a lemon.

  She was waiting with her hand raised, along with her chin. She looked every inch a lady. She’d fit the role of baroness perfectly—in physicality, at least.

  Were she marrying any other gentleman he might have even admired her loyalty and her courage.

  Eyeing her now, he knew she had made up her mind. It didn’t take a fully lit room to see the stubborn set of her jaw or the hard determination in her eyes.

  His mind raced to think of any logic she might listen to. He thought of telling her that Tolston had sent him but dismissed it. He wouldn’t put it past her to tell her husband-to-be about the stranger lurking in his halls. Perhaps even tell him the details of this conversation.

  He could not risk putting his friend’s reputation on the line or have Everley turn his dastardly efforts against the good earl.

  He could think of no argument other than the one he’d given, and that had not been enough for this stubborn little fool.

  They both tensed at the sound of voices coming down the hallway, staring at the door until the booming laughter passed, along with a woman’s higher-pitched laugh.

  When the threat was over, he turned to see her staring at him. Studying him. Even in this light, she seemed to see it all—his thick brows, the wide jaw, the flat nose—every facet of his face, which friends called rugged and foes called menacing. Despite his noble lineage, he’d been graced with the appearance of those same back-alley thieves Miss Clemmons thought fit to fear.

  He waited for her judgement, but if she passed any, he could not see it. The only gesture that gave away her thoughts was the frown that touched her lips as she eyed his hair which was unfashionably long where it brushed against his collar. The fine clothes he’d scrounged up from the back of his wardrobe, but by the time he’d realized he’d let himself go recently—it had been too late to do much for his appearance other than a quick shave.

  “Why are you here now?” she asked.

  “I beg your pardon?” It wasn’t often he was called upon to play dumb, and he wasn’t certain it did him credit.

  The way she cocked one eyebrow told him she wasn’t fooled. “Why now? You said you’ve been investigating Everley, but why are you here now, risking your very life to find new evidence.”

  He let out a huff of amusement. “I wouldn’t say I was risking my life.”

  She arched both brows now. “I would. You said yourself that Everley is capable of murder, and yet here you are. Breaking into his private quarters, kidnapping his fiancée—”

  “Kidnapping?” he interjected.

  She ignored the protest. “Why now?”

  She wasn’t going to let this go, but he could see her suspicion grow. A part of her, at least, was wondering if this was connected to her.

  Smart girl.

  Smart but foolish if she thought she was immune from Everley’s cruelty because she was to be his wife.

  Voices echoed outside the door again, this time it was male voices and they were talking. “I had better go.” He looked around but before he could figure out his best chance of escape she pointed behind him.

  “That window. The drop isn’t too far.”

  He arched his brows in surprise and she shrugged. “A friend might have told me.”

  He wanted to ask her to elaborate but time was running out. He glanced around the office with a frustrated growl. After all these years he’d gotten so close.

  Close enough to actually catch the man who’d murdered his best friend.

  And he’d lost his chance because he was trying to talk sense into a senseless twit.

  She planted her hands on her hips and that was when he realized he’d muttered some of that aloud. “Senseless twit, am I? I am not the one who’s trying to snoop around Lord Evil while he’s entertaining at his own engagement party.”

  Lord…Evil? He could not have heard her right.

  Before he could ask her to explain, she glanced over her shoulder, alerted as he was by the growing volume of those voices. “Go on,” she said. “Out with you.” And with that she shoved him toward the window.

  She stopped when they reached it and he threw up the window. “Just tell me,” she said as he began his ungraceful climb out the window. “Why now?”

  Because of you. He could not tell her that, though it was clear she suspected. He didn’t have to answer at all, but that undeniable intelligence in her eyes told him she would not be satisfied without an answer, and maybe…

  Maybe that curiosity would help her to learn the real nature of the man she was marrying. Maybe…

  His gaze caught hers when he was halfway out the window.

  “What is it?” she asked, clearly reading his tension.

  He had to make a decision and he had to make it quick. “Your loving fiancé,” he started, enjoying the way her jaw muscle ticked in irritation at the endearment. “One of his many vices is smuggling.”

  She frowned. “Smuggling?”

  “Among other things,” he said.

  The voices grew louder and he heard Everley’s unmistakable laugh—humorless and cold and too loud for any occasion.

  “What does that have to do with you? Being here. Tonight.” She listed the three things like they were separate entities.

  He hovered there, half in and half out of the room, hating that he even noticed how beautiful she was in the glow of the moonlight. Even more beautiful than in the candlelight, and wouldn’t have imagine that possible had he not seen it with his own eyes.

  She was beautiful—and she knew it. That was the only explanation for her haughty, spoiled arrogance.

  “I’m looking for proof,” he said. Again, not a total lie. He had been given a hint from one of his friends down at the dock that a shipment was coming in soon. A man like Everley could have stopped with the illegal trades years ago. He no longer needed the money now that he’d acquired a fortune…along with his cousin’s title.

  But men like Everley never knew when to stop. They always pushed too hard, too far—and Rupert was betting on the fact that he was doing the same thing now. He hadn’t given up his criminal ways just because he’d gotten himself a title. If anything, Rupert guessed that Everley had only grown more ambitious given his new status in society.

  It was a bet he’d been willing to bet his life on by coming here tonight.

  Looking at this little queen
standing there in all her regal glory, it occurred to him—she might just be the in he needed.

  Wariness crept over him. It was one thing to bet his own life, quite another to rope a young debutante into helping him.

  No. He could not. He would not, even though he was certain that all it would take was a challenge. A subtle prick to her pride followed by a not-so-subtle dare…

  She’d do his job for him and with ease since she had free reign of this home…or would soon enough.

  “What is it?” she demanded. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” He grinned before she could respond. It was rather diverting to make her scowl. Yes, Everley had chosen well. He’d been looking for the belle of the ball and he’d found her.

  He’d taken Rupert’s best friend to score a title and estate, had nearly taken his life when he’d gotten close to catching him, and now…

  Rupert took one last look at the enchanting little minx with the upturned nose.

  And now Everley had gotten the girl.

  Life, as Rupert already well knew, just was not fair.

  She planted her hands on her hips, not even turning to look when a hand rattled the doorknob. “Why that look?”

  She hated not having all the answers, but she wouldn’t get any more from him. He’d do his best to keep her out of this. Whether she liked it or not.

  “Do yourself a favor, Princess,” he said as his feet landed on the ground and only his eyes peered over the edge. “Stay out of my way. Stay out of his way. And whatever you do, do not cause trouble.”

  Her eyes widened in outrage. “Do not cause trouble? Says the man who means to ruin my life.”

  “No, I mean to ruin his. I already told you, it is you I hope to save.”

  That made her furious, which made him feel like laughing. A real laugh. The kind of laugh he hadn’t reveled in for an age.

  “Stay safe, Princess,” he said as he backed away.

  She came closer to keep him in her sights.

  “If you need me, I will save you.”

  She frowned. “How would I find you?” Then, just as quickly, she seemed to remember herself. “Not that I will need your help.”

  “When you do…” He grinned, despite the circumstances. “I will find you.”

  5

  I will find you.

  Conceited man. She scowled at the window even after he disappeared, only spinning around when the door flew open and her fiancé strode in with two men she did not know behind him.

  They all stopped short at the sight of her. Everley recovered first. “Delilah. My dear.” He strode toward her with a brilliant smile that did not reach his eyes and left her cold. She forced a smile of her own as he approached, and they basically reenacted their first meeting earlier this same evening.

  Which was to say, they said all the correct things as onlookers watched. They made pleasantries and pretended to be happy to see one another.

  “What are you doing alone in here?” he asked.

  As he did, his gaze moved to the open window. She took a step to the left to block his view, gesturing to the window as she did so. “I’m afraid I became overheated.” She fluttered her lashes and smiled sweetly. Her stepmother had taught her how to give this look many years ago and it was a skill she called upon often. The look said soft, sweet…innocent.

  Everley’s look said concerned. At least, that was what he’d apparently aimed for. His eyes said curious. “Are you well or—”

  “Oh yes,” she said with a little laugh. “I am just not used to such lavish parties, I’m afraid. The crowd became too much.”

  His smile softened as he took her by the elbow and led her toward the hallway. “That is my fault, my dear. I should have been attending to your needs this evening.” He gestured toward the strange men who were watching her with matching fatherly smiles. “I am afraid I have been distracted by business endeavors.”

  “Oh, please, do not let me interrupt you,” she said. “I was meaning to find my friends. I am certain they are wondering where I am.”

  This, she knew, was very true.

  His grip on her arm tightened as he smiled down at her, the sound of music swelling as they drew closer to the center of the action. “I expect they are,” he said. “You must not keep them waiting.”

  She tried to match his smile and faltered. When her gaze met his, her skin crawled. Her stomach sank at the coldness she saw there, barely hidden beneath a smiling façade.

  Lord Evil.

  Silly nickname. But even as she thought it, Mr. Calloway’s accusations were swirling through her mind, making her doubt everything.

  Murderer. The word flashed through her mind and she stumbled a bit as she kept pace with her fiancé. When they spotted her friends, gathered together nearby, Lord Everley’s grip on her loosened.

  Louisa was waving madly as the others openly stared.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” her fiancé said smoothly. “I must attend to business. Why don’t you enjoy some time with your delightful young friends and be sure to save me a dance, hmm?”

  He didn’t bother to wait for an answer, and Delilah was left to face her friends.

  Her very enthusiastic, much too curious friends.

  When Miss Grayson gave her a kind smile, she knew there was nothing for it. She might have been able to ignore Louisa, and Addie…even Prudence who was no doubt miserable this evening.

  Pru hated crowds and deplored dancing.

  But Miss Grayson’s kindness was impossible to ignore. Only a beast would snub their teacher by walking past and pretending not to see them.

  With a sigh she headed toward her friends who welcomed her warmly.

  “At last!” Louisa exclaimed, as though Delilah had been lost at sea.

  “We’ve missed you,” Addie said with a smile.

  Prudence wore a scowl that Delilah knew well. Her friend tended to be sanctimonious and a bit of a mother hen, but when all was said and done, Prudence had a big heart. Perhaps too big. She worried far too much about those she loved, and Delilah—for reasons still unbeknownst to her—was on that list.

  She gave Prudence what she hoped was a reassuring smile before turning to Miss Grayson. Always kind, forever graceful, Miss Grayson was that sad example of a lovely young lady who was bound to be a spinster because of reasons outside her purview. Miss Grayson’s smile was gentle and understanding. “You have been missed,” she said, her eyes warm with amusement as Louisa chose that moment to launch into a round of questions that would never be answered.

  Addie stepped in once more to temper her friend’s loud questions about why she was marrying Lord Evil, and why she hadn’t been back to the house to see them.

  “As you can see, we’ve been curious to hear the details of your engagement,” Addie said mildly.

  Delilah rolled her eyes at the understatement just as the first notes of a waltz began to play.

  “Were you kidnapped?” Louisa hissed in a loud whisper.

  “What?” Delilah laughed. “Of course not, silly.” Her gaze never quite focused on any one of them as she looked around. “I have been busy, that’s all. Planning a wedding on such short notice has taken up all my time, I’m afraid.”

  Her response was met by silence all around.

  Luckily, Delilah was saved by two smitten gentlemen. Lord Tolston and Lord Tumberland joined their group to claim their fiancées for a dance. “We will be back,” Louisa said as her future husband dragged her away toward the dance floor.

  Delilah watched with a jolt of disgust as the two couples went off with nauseatingly sweet smiles and soft laughter that spoke of private jokes and happy plans.

  “Love matches,” Prudence said with a weary sigh before her. “Is there anything more sickening?”

  Miss Grayson laughed lightly, opting to take Prudence’s comment as a joke, though Delilah knew it was not.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Miss Grayson said, looking from Delilah to Prudence. “I believ
e I see an old acquaintance.” She fooled no one. Miss Grayson was hoping to give Delilah and her closest friend a moment alone, and Delilah hated her for it.

  She did not wish to answer questions, not when her heart was still pounding from that run-in with a burglar. Not when her mind still raced with questions after hearing his accusations.

  Miss Grayson leaned toward her. “We are all relieved to see you safe and well,” she said. “You know you are always welcome at the school…for any reason.” She hitched her brows slightly. “We all care about you, and we are here if you need us.”

  Delilah nodded, her throat temporary choked with emotion as she watched Miss Grayson walk away.

  “Well,” Prudence said with a sigh. “I suppose you’re pleased.”

  Delilah stiffened at her friend’s casual remark. “Pleased?”

  Her friend shot her a sidelong look. “You’re about to marry a man as rich as Midas. Isn’t that what you’ve always dreamt of?”

  “It was what I was born to do,” she quipped, her tone filled with a bravado that made Prudence laugh, as she’d hoped. This was an old joke of theirs. From the first day they’d met at the school, Pru was the one to see that not all of Delilah’s snobbery was genuine.

  Some of it was…just not all.

  “Yes, yes,” Pru said. “You were born to be a queen.”

  Delilah’s smile felt more forced than ever since it was aimed at a friend. Perhaps not born to be a queen, but raised to be a trophy. From the moment she could walk, she’d understood that her sole purpose in life, in her family, was to marry well.

  It had always been her dream.

  Her father’s dream.

  It had been both of their dreams. It was all she was good for, and everyone knew that.

  She sighed as a sort of lethargic weariness stole over her. The energy that had been coursing through her after that bizarre encounter was starting to fade, leaving her limbs weighted and her mind foggy with exhaustion.

  Pru shot her a sidelong look. “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

  “Pardon me?”

  Pru’s lips pursed and her expression said ‘don’t even try to fool me.’ “You sighed just now as though you’d just ruined your best gown.”