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

by Maggie Dallen

  She’d been lucky indeed that, aside from her stepmother, it seemed no one knew that she had spent several evenings unchaperoned in a bachelor’s home, so all in all…

  She’d managed to escape this ordeal with nothing more than a sore cheek from her stepmother’s attack.

  She was very lucky.

  All of these reasons to be grateful and glad. She stabbed the fabric one more time before throwing it to the side with an unladylike growl. “Where is he?”

  Every head lifted at once and all eyes were on her, but no one pretended to misunderstand, thank goodness. She would have whipped the hide of anyone who dared to utter ‘who?’

  “He will come to visit soon, I am sure of it,” Louisa said. Her normally cheerful smile had been replaced by a worried expression that seemed to belie her words.

  “Of course he will,” Addie said.

  Miss Grayson wore a kind smile but said nothing.

  Delilah looked to Prudence who wore a familiar pursed-lipped look of disapproval which was aimed at Louisa and Addie. “He has not come yet, I do not see why you’d expect him to come at all.” She turned her attention back to the embroidery in her hands. “He has no business with Delilah now that the sordid affair has concluded. If he has not come yet…” She shot Delilah a sidelong look and the disapproval was gone. A flicker of sympathy and understanding flickered in her eyes. “Perhaps it is best to keep your expectations in check.”

  “Pru!” Louisa chided. “Why must you be so discouraging?”

  Prudence shrugged. “I am merely pragmatic.”

  Delilah sighed. It was true. She was. Most of the time, Delilah appreciated that quality in Prudence. Unlike dreamy Louisa or optimistic Addie and kindhearted Miss Grayson, Prudence’s black-and-white view of the world was often refreshing.

  But not today.

  Delilah scowled at her friend. “Could you at least try to find something positive to say?”

  Prudence met her gaze evenly as she seemed to ponder the question. “You are alive and well thanks to Mr. Calloway. Is that not positive enough for you?”

  Delilah blinked, the meaning hitting home. Spoiled brat. Ungrateful cur.

  She swallowed and looked down at her embroidery, barely seeing the ivy pattern she’d been tediously working on as unexpected tears swam in her eyes.

  Perhaps she was spoiled, and selfish, and ungrateful, and every other bad thing she’d ever been accused of being.

  But she meant to change all that. She wanted to change, and for a little while there with Rupert, she’d felt like she was changing. The way he saw past all that, the way he challenged her to move beyond the behavior she’d learned as a child…

  Yes, she had changed. And she would continue to change…with or without him.

  She blinked and a traitorous tear fell. She swiped at it as her heart ached painfully in her chest.

  She’d just prefer to change with him, that was all.

  The settee sank beside her and Pru’s hand covered her own. “I am sorry, Dee,” she said softly. “I spoke without thinking. Of course he will come for you.”

  She did not truly believe it and hearing Prudence be disingenuous out of sympathy was almost more than she could bear.

  “I really like him, Pru.” It came out as a whisper and Prudence clutched her hand tighter.

  “I know.”

  “I maybe even…” She swallowed convulsively. “Love him.”

  “Oh, Delilah,” Prudence sighed.

  The sympathy in Pru’s voice made her want to weep. Her throat grew so tight she couldn’t swallow and her chest…her chest felt like it might explode from emotion.

  But she would not cry.

  Quite frankly, she was tired of crying.

  All week she’d found herself bursting into tears at the most inconvenient moments, and every time one of her friends or Miss Grayson had rushed to comfort her. But she was so tired of it. It was as though a lifetime of hurts and snubs and being ignored was all coming out this week and she was so tired of it.

  She was exhausted from it, truth be told.

  Louisa had told her it was good. Healthy, even. That she’d been in dire need of an emotional purge—that was Louisa’s term for it—and that she’d feel lighter and happier for it in the end.

  Delilah didn’t feel either of those things.

  She might have been letting go of her old grievances but with each passing hour that Rupert ignored her existence, her heart was breaking.

  Maybe he’d been swept up in the excitement of it all. Passions had been running high. It was only natural that he’d get carried away. Maybe even say things that he did not mean.

  Her heart pounded furiously at the thought of it.

  Delilah, to me, you are everything.

  She inhaled swiftly as her heart clenched painfully at the memory.

  No. She refused to believe that he’d said all that out of some temporary sense of elation. She pulled her hand out from beneath Pru’s and straightened her shoulders.

  If he had then…

  Well, who did he think he was?

  Irritation spread through her at the thought and the urge to cry lessened.

  Yes, anger was good. Anger made her feel less hopeless and more in control.

  Anger good. Heartbreak bad. That was the simple thought that had her frowning at her friend. “What kind of gentleman goes spouting off romantic things like that and then flees for days on end?”

  Pru’s brows shot up in surprise and the others in the room turned their attention her way.

  She made a show of arranging her skirts, her head held high and proud. “He had no right to say those things he said if he did not intend to court me.”

  Her friends were all staring at her wide-eyed.

  “He should never have opened his mouth if he did not mean to marry me,” she continued, anger coursing through her and making her feel like herself for the first time in days. She was no watering pot, and she never had been.

  Righteous anger had her coming to stand, her arms crossed in indignation. “What kind of man makes a woman fall in love with him if he doesn’t plan to marry her?” she demanded.

  A servant opened the door to the drawing room but she ignored them. She was on a roll. “He had no right to make me fall in love with him. It was indecent and despicable and—”

  “Beyond my control, I’m afraid.” Rupert’s voice in the doorway had her whipping her head to see him standing there, just behind the elderly housekeeper, whose eyes were wide with shock.

  Delilah’s heart leapt in her chest at the sight of him standing there—the same gentleman she remembered, but also…different.

  His hair was shorn neatly and his clothes were fine and well-cut. His seemingly permanent stubble was shaved and he was…

  Devastatingly handsome.

  No. She straightened. He was handsome, but still the same brute who’d left her here without a word for nearly a week.

  His grin was infuriating and smug.

  He’d heard.

  She narrowed her eyes in anger. Good. She was glad he’d heard. Her heart might have been racing away with excitement but she clung to her anger. Because if she was wrong…

  If he wasn’t here for the reason she hoped…

  She huffed loudly and stomped her foot. “You had no right,” she snapped.

  His smile never wavered and she clenched her hands into fists as her palms tingled with the urge to rush over and smack him.

  “Ladies,” he said politely, his gaze never leaving Delilah’s. “Would it be all right with you if I have a moment alone with Miss Clemmons?”

  Miss Grayson was the first one out of her seat, grinning broadly as she rushed the others out of the room. “I’ll just be…” she started as she pulled the door halfway shut behind them. She seemed to realize that neither of them were listening because she added softly. “Holler if you need me, dear,” before slipping out of the room.

  The door was open and she knew without a doubt that
her friends hovered nearby, but they were for all intents and purposes…alone.

  Her heart was beating so quickly she had to fight the urge to clap a hand to her breast to hold it in place.

  “What are you doing here?” she snapped. It came out far angrier and much less desperate than it had sounded in her head. That was a relief.

  His smile faded a bit and he moved toward her. Slowly. Cautiously.

  Smart man.

  When he came close enough that he could reach out and touch her, he stopped. “I am sorry I stayed away so long.”

  She glared at him. Did he really think that would suffice? She clamped her lips shut, telling herself she would not say another word until he gave her some sort of explanation.

  He looked down at his boots—well-polished and seemingly new. “I, uh…I was afraid….”

  “You were afraid?” she echoed, her voice rising alarmingly. She took a deep breath and tried again. “You, the man who has devoted his life to chasing after criminals and who singlehandedly took down Lord Everley—”

  “I would not say singlehanded—”

  “You were afraid?” she continued as if he hadn’t interrupted, her voice filled with disbelief. “Of what? Me?” Something inside her slipped a bit. Some of that righteous anger faltered with the realization that perhaps he had been afraid of her.

  Her own gaze dropped now so she was the one studying the toes of her slippers. “I know I am not exactly…” She flailed her hands as she sought the right word. “Approachable.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I may not be as delicate or…demure as most ladies of your acquaintance, but I don’t see—”

  His fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face up, made her words freeze in her throat.

  His grin was all rueful amusement. “Delilah, I am not afraid of you. If you’d let me finish, I was going to explain that I wanted to give you time and space so you could think and reconcile yourself to everything that had happened.”

  She blinked up at him dazedly, her mind struggling to sift through his words, searching for hidden meanings or something that might hurt her.

  It was difficult to use reason at all when he touched her like this. All her mind wanted to do was focus on the feel of his rough, calloused fingertips on the sensitive skin of her cheek as he held her face in his hands now, cupping her jaw like she was some fragile, cherished treasure.

  “I was afraid…” He gave a little sigh of impatience as he shook his head. “I did not mean to make you worry or to hurt you in any way. I merely wanted to give you room so you could sort out your feelings for me without the heightened emotions that can come with the sort of ordeal you just underwent.”

  Much as it pained her, she took a step back until his hands dropped. She needed a little distance to make sense of that. Once she did, his reasoning clicked with a startling clarity. “You thought I would have said yes to you because I was grateful.”

  His smile was small and a little too sad for her liking. “Something like that.” He moved closer but kept his hands to himself. “I did not want you to make a hasty decision you might regret.”

  She blinked up at him, shaking her head in confusion as a million emotions flooded through her at once.

  He wanted her. He was only looking out for her. He was afraid she’d reject him.

  “Why would I regret choosing to be with you?” she asked. “I…I care about you.”

  He groaned as he moved toward her, this time taking her in his arms and pulling her close. “Do you, really, my love?” He pressed his lips to her temple. “Were you in earnest when I walked into this room? Did you really fall in love?”

  Her lips quivered with a smile as ridiculous tears swam in her eyes. And yet, it was a smack she delivered to his chest as she pulled back to meet his gaze. “Of course, I love you. Do you think I let just any man kiss me?”

  His grin turned roguish as he held her tighter still. “I hope I am the only man who ever has the privilege of kissing you.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, his soft groan making her want to weep because it echoed the same desperation she’d been feeling all week.

  And here, now… She finally had him where she wanted him.

  Kissing her, holding her—and he’d better not even think of ever letting go.

  When at last he pulled back to meet her gaze, they were both breathless and holding one another tight.

  “That wasn’t the only reason I stayed away,” he said quietly. He stroked a hand over her hair, likely mussing it but she found she did not care. His gaze was unnervingly serious, his eyes deliciously dark with emotion.

  She steeled herself for whatever he might say, still wary of the happiness that threatened to drown her if she gave into it. “What is it?” she asked.

  He dropped down to one knee as he clutched her hands in his.

  “Rupert, what are you—”

  “I want you by my side, Delilah. Now. Always. Forever.”

  Her heart exploded with joy. Tears overflowed and she was unable to keep the tide at bay any longer. That happiness swept over her so fast, so fierce, it left her trembling. “I want the same,” she said. Tugging him to stand, she kissed him with all of the emotion she was feeling.

  The kiss turned desperate as her lips clung to his. Her tears mixed with the taste of him and he pulled back abruptly.

  “I love you, Delilah. I wish to make you my wife. However…”

  She pulled back as well with a sudden frown. “What ‘however’? Why a ‘however?’”

  He gave a short laugh as he wrapped his arms tightly about her waist. “Let me finish. I merely realized that you deserve better.”

  “Better than you?” Her frown intensified. “Never. No such thing exists. Not for me.”

  He tipped his head back with another laugh before he met her gaze with eyes filled with more affection than she’d ever imagined seeing in her entire life. “I do love you, you know that, yes?” he said. “Your strength is incredible and your belief in me is heartening. But what I’m trying to say is—falling in love with you, it has changed me.”

  Her eyes widened, because his words so perfectly echoed what she’d been feeling earlier. “Maybe that’s what love does,” she says. “It changes you.”

  “It made me want to be the sort of man you deserve,” he continued.

  Her eyes flickered over the clean-shaven jaw, the handsome new clothes and the perfectly groomed hair. “I don’t care about all that,” she said softly. “Not really.”

  “Maybe not, but I want to make you proud. I’ve talked to my father about reclaiming the honorary title, and about rejoining society with you at my side—”

  “Rupert!” Her voice was high with irritation and amusement and giddy happiness. “You do not need to do all of this. Not for me. I may have been raised to believe that a ‘good’ match was all that mattered, but I know better now. I want a love match. I want a real match. I want…you.” Her voice fell to a whisper as emotion choked her and the full force of the love in his eyes struck her. “That is all that matters.”

  He studied her for a moment with eyes so warm with affection it made her want to weep. “Perhaps you are right. But meeting you, falling in love with you, I suppose I realized that my dreams for the future have changed as well. Once upon a time, all I wanted was justice and revenge. I thought family and love would never mean as much to me as the call to right the wrongs of the ne’er-do-wells who walk among the elite.”

  She arched her brows. “And now?”

  He sighed. “Now… Now I want to let go of the anger that drove me to this line of work. I will still take on the occasional investigation but I no longer relish the idea of risking the lives of those close to me, or even my own life…not when I have so much to live for.”

  “So…” She reached up and threaded her fingers through the edges of his new haircut. “You have turned a new leaf then.”

  He grinned. “It would seem so.” Arching his brows, he lowered his voice. “All that being said, I
cannot promise that I will avoid adventure entirely—”

  “I should hope not!” she interjected pertly.

  He laughed and tugged her closer, so she was enveloped in his arms. “But something tells me that a marriage to you…?” He dropped a sweet kiss to her lips. “That will be the greatest adventure of all.”

  Thank you for reading! Be sure to find out what happens to Prudence in her story, The Misgivings about Miss Prudence!

  If you missed Addie and Tolston’s story, you can find it in The Misadventures of Miss Adelaide.

  Louisa and Tumberland’s tale can be found in The Misunderstanding of Miss Louisa

  Plus, snag a FREE sweet regency romance novella now when you sign up for Maggie Dallen’s monthly historical romance newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/dgUNif

  About the Author

  MAGGIE DALLEN IS a big city girl living in Montana. She writes romantic comedies in a range of genres including young adult, historical, contemporary, and fantasy. An unapologetic addict of all things romance, she loves to connect with fellow avid readers. Subscribe to her historical newsletter at http://eepurl.com/dgUNif or her contemporary newsletter at http://eepurl.com/bFEVsL

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