Sinfully Delectable (Regency Four Book 2)

by Virginia Taylor

  Upon his return to the house, which his servants had prepared according to his instructions sent daily from Cornwall, he was as pleased as Della to see the polished gleam of the wooden floors in both rooms and the fresh colors on the newly painted walls. “I am hoping, my love, that you can spare the time to go through all the furniture in these rooms and choose which you will want to keep.”

  “I certainly keep that beautiful piano.” Her eyes had rounded. “Have you always had that?”

  “I expect so. My father spent a fortune on this house. I rarely visited when I was younger, and after I inherited, I wanted my family to have a comfortable country place to live, where I could experiment with working the land, too. I used this place as a hotel most of the time.”

  She took his hand in hers. “I can’t imagine why your father didn’t treasure you. You are the most amazing man in the whole world.”

  He shrugged. His father didn’t treasure anyone and certainly not a son who insisted on acting like an idiot, possible because that’s what his father expected from him. Eden had long ago stopped caring, and doubly so now that he had Della and her incredible support. “You shouldn’t hold my hand, Della. You know what happens to wives who show affection for their husbands.”

  “Oh, dear. And I haven’t even seen the bedroom yet.” Her expression was demure, but after two weeks with her, mainly spent in bed, he knew he hadn’t married a demure miss at all. She was far less inhibited than any other woman he knew, and she insisted on letting one thing lead to another as often as she could. This time, she changed the subject. “How soon do you want to begin entertaining?”

  “As soon as you are ready. Will you be able to manage or do you want a secretary?”

  She laughed. “Of course I can manage. I’ve been in training all of my life for this. My mother spends almost every hour of every day when she is in the country pining to come back here and entertain. She relaxes in the country, saving her energy for the political crises in which my father lives. I’ve spent hundreds of hours watching her organize events and being her helper. I want to have a ball first, since we have this wonderful ballroom.”

  “Shouldn’t you be doing bride visits?”

  “I can do that, too. I expect Mama will be most enthusiastic about it.”

  During the next two weeks, he discovered how enthusiastic both ladies were about visiting and organizing balls.

  * * * *

  Della had barely seen her best friends since her wedding, except for a few quick visits. Her friends’ lives were as busy as hers had been since her wedding four weeks ago. Each had accepted the invitation to Della’s first ball as Lady Thornton, even Hebe who planned to bring her fiancé, Horace.

  Winsome, wearing a smart, beautifully cut green silk gown was the first of her friends to arrive in the reception line, accompanied by her parents. Right behind her came Rose, wearing pink. Because Rose was insanely beautiful, she could wear any color, even brown, and still outshine everyone else. Unfortunately no one could hate Rose, who was the kindest hearted of them all. She would give her last crust to a beggar.

  When Hebe arrived a little later, she caused a quiet rustling in the ranks. People wanted to take a glance at Horace Hampton, her fiancé, a medium size man of moderate looks and careful tailoring, except for his waistcoat. That particular article of his clothing turned heads. Intricate gold patterning on a red background peeped out behind his jacket. So that he didn’t feel out of place, Della made sure she caught Winsome’s eye. Winsome would gather up the couple as soon as they left the receiving line.

  A delighted smile lit up Mr. Hampton’s face when he saw Eden, but of course. Eden always made people happy. Which reminded her. “If you flirt with any of my friends I will kill you,” she said to Eden in an undertone after the Hamptons joined Rose and Winsome.

  The glitter of a hundred candles lit up the outline of his fair head. He offered her a fond smile, which she had learned meant he was listening while not taking note. She had also learned that her husband was an obstinate man, whose love was deep and never-ending. She would never have guessed that he had loved her for years. Had she not tempted him with an apple in the orchard less than three months ago, she might not be married to him now.

  He had said, “Tosh,” when she had mentioned that fact.

  “I had to make the first move,” she had answered.

  “I had to make the last.” Remembering this, she marveled at his patience. Currently she was attempting to learn patience herself. The line moved on and on and within half an hour, so had she.

  Her newly papered ballroom sparkled with polish, candles, and two huge glittering chandeliers. The diamonds worn by her guests glittered in the light. She had never been so content. Running a household of her own was most enjoyable and certainly kept her out of mischief. Being with Eden had taught her patience and now she didn’t have to do everything yesterday.

  Playing the hostess was new to her, but her mother had given her examples her whole life of how to behave in society—start conversations, and then flit away to do this again and again. Finally, she did this pleasant duty enough times to reward herself with the company of her friends. First, she joined Winsome who just been delivered back to her mother after a cotillion. She took her friend’s hand and tugged her over to Rose, who stood in a circle of wishful peers, each of whom would be willing to stand in line to be Rose’s next partner.

  Rose never seemed to notice, but since this was an everyday occurrence for her, she could afford to be casual about the situation. As soon as she spotted Della and Winsome, she excused herself. “How are we going to separate Hebe and Mr. Hampton?” she asked in a low voice, staring across the room at their redheaded friend.

  “Eden. Wait while I catch his eye.” Della had no problem because Eden was glancing her as she said the last word, and came when she beckoned him. “Do you think you could engage Mr. Hampton in conversation so that Hebe could join us here?”

  “I would have more of a problem disengaging him from me, unless I miss my guess.”

  What he meant by that she didn’t know, but he immediately took Hebe’s place by Mr. Hampton’s side.

  Moving into a private alcove with her friends, Della said, “Since I am the first to be married, I want to say to you all that despite Hebe’s prediction that we would grow apart over the years, I mean to be friends with you all for the rest of my life.”

  “We should have a secret society and make a pact.” Rose offered a twinkling smile.

  “Idiots,” Winsome said, grinning. “We did that years ago. I don’t mean to drop any of you, even if you marry a coal miner.”

  Hebe gave a forced smile. “Horace only came tonight to please me. He has decided that we should remain on the fringe of society where my title will be of more use. He prefers being the most important person in his own circle and he means to live that way. But I will see you all whenever I can.”

  The silence lingered while no one knew what to say. Finally Winsome took Hebe’s hand. “I will work within his rules. I am guessing I won’t be refused admission to your home if I visit.”

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t be so harsh.” Hebe moistened her lips. “I have asked a lot of him and he has been nothing but kind.”

  “It’s a shame Rydale is poor,” Winsome said thoughtfully. “I always thought you would make a good match.”

  “With Alex?” Hebe’s eyes widened. “He’s far too staid for me. No, thank you.”

  “If you locked them in a room together, Alex would come out as an ice block. Hebe would come out with blood dripping from her talons.” Rose gave one of her gawky grins, which was her saving grace, making her not quite perfect.

  Hebe pushed her. “The world’s greatest matchmaker fails again.”

  Rose stared at her. “We got Eden and Della together, didn’t we?”

  “What! You did not. I tempted Eden with an apple in the orchard and that was it.” Three ladies laughed.

  “Sounds like a story as old as ti
me, to me,” Winsome said, her eyes sparkling.

  Della stared at her friends. “This is why I take the credit. None of you arranged that.”

  “We didn’t have to,” Winsome finally said. “He mooned over you for years, but if you hadn’t done your snake act in the apple orchard, we would have intervened.”

  * * * *

  “Did you know that everyone thought we were meant for each other before we did?” Della asked Eden as she entered the bedroom. He was already lying in bed waiting for her. She climbed in beside him.

  “We?”

  “Well, you didn’t, and I certainly didn’t.”

  He shook his head. “I intended to have you since the moment I met you, no matter what I had to do. You don’t think I would have allowed you to marry the duke, surely?”

  “You couldn’t have stopped me if I wanted to.”

  “Who made sure you didn’t want to?”

  “Not you.” She stared at him, frowning.

  “Did I try to kiss you to change your mind?”

  “You should have.”

  “But I didn’t. It wouldn’t have worked,” he said in a reasonable voice. “I had to wait for you to want to kiss me.”

  “And you know how well you kiss.”

  He smiled. “When you love a person, you kiss with love. Apparently that works.” He took her into his arms. “I know another thing that also works.”

  She snuggled into him. “I know you do. I’ve been thinking.”

  “Bad idea when I know what works.” He lifted her night plait and twisted the hair around his wrist.

  “I think I fell in love with you the first time you came to visit with Raimond. He is a serious man, and you relaxed him with your so-called artless comments.”

  “So-called?”

  “They’re not in the least artless. You are ruthless. You make comments that first make people stare at you, and then you make them laugh. At first I thought Raimond was laughing at you, but he was laughing with you. That’s because I was serious when I was sixteen.”

  “You still are, Della. We can’t both be idiots.”

  She persisted, despite the fact that he had his hand on her breast. “And when you talked about patterns and numbers, I thought you were crazy, but Papa listened to you. My mother adored you, well, she still does. I can’t understand why I didn’t see all of this before.”

  “Nor can I.” His fingers lightly ran around her nipple. Any minute and he would tease her with his thumb.

  “What if I had never slithered out of the tree and tempted you?”

  “Slithered?”

  “I’m the snake that tempted Eden in the garden with an apple.”

  “So, now I’ll take a bite.” He rolled her onto her back and covered her. His mouth settled on the teased nipple but he licked instead of biting.

  She gently took a handful of his hair and brought his mouth up to hers. Slowly, gradually, the kisses turned into an expression of passion and love. When he slowly entered her, she knew that the rest of her life would be spent adoring Eden.

  The Eve that temped Eden in the garden was no more. She was now Della who was tempted and totally smitten, by Eden.

  EXCERPT FROM DELICOUSLY HAZARDOUS (TO BE PUBLISHED IN OCTOBER

  CHAPTER ONE

  1828

  During the past year, newly widowed Lady Hebe Hampton had progressed from wearing all black, to black and gray, and then to gray. Her mourning period now over, this afternoon she wore a dusky pink gown, trimmed with red silk. After a shaky rearrangement of her cashmere shawl, she pattered down the staircase to the drawing room of her hosts, the Earl and Countess of Langsdene.

  Blowing out a nervous breath, and remembering to balance an invisible book on her head, she swept her gaze over blue velvet chairs, gold-framed artworks depicting botanical scenes, marbled wallpaper, and subdued oriental carpets. Lack of ostentation in a room pleased Hebe, mainly because her dearly departed husband, Horace Hampton, esquire, whom she had married eight years ago, had crammed everything new and bright into his houses. Since he counted his money in the upper ten thousands, nothing in her new home had reminded her of her old home; no worn old carpets, no threadbare upholstery. Hebe hadn’t cared. Her life with him was new, and not to be compared with her pre-marital state.

  Society said she had married to gain her filthy lucre. She couldn’t deny this, having had no option when, at the age of twenty, she accepted Horace’s kind hand. Soon after, she voluntarily removed herself from society. No children having been produced during their union, she alone inherited his fortune when he died. Which now made her, she hoped, a merry widow. The hope pertained to the merriness. She was determined to make the most of her first real week out of mourning.

  Spotting her friend and hostess, she took a step forward. At the same moment, Winsome turned, smiled, and hurried over. “Hebe, dearest, I hope my staff have attended to your needs.” Winsome planted a kiss on Hebe’s cheek. A young woman with thick, brown hair, and sparkling light gray eyes, Winsome had been Hebe’s friend and neighbor until Hebe’s father had lost all his money and had to sell their country estate. The two had had been reacquainted during their debuts.

  “I’ve been made very comfortable,” Hebe said, appreciatively. “I would have sent my carriage back to town, but your stable master wouldn’t hear of it.”

  Winsome looked pleased. “You’ll have to promise not to leave us too soon.”

  “I’ll try to bear the company of all my favorite people for a week or two. Your invitation came at the perfect time—my mourning period is finally over. If I’d still been wearing gray, I would have depressed everyone.”

  “It would take more than a dull color for you to depress anyone.” Winsome indicated her husband, the handsome dark-haired earl, who stood behind her. “I’m not sure who you know because I only did the one season in London. You are acquainted with Langsdene, though?”

  “Yes, I certainly know the earl.” Hebe smiled at Langsdene. “Not that he attended as many functions as I did.”

  “You remember rightly. I avoided as many as I could.” The earl offered her a lazy smile. “You will, of course, have met most of my friends. None were as unsociable as I.” He turned and gave a beckoning gesture.

  Her pulse sped up as she watched the approach of Alexander, the Earl of Rydale. However, his disappointing lack of interest in merry widows showed in the cool nod he offered her. From his golden brown hair, his amber eyes, and his aquiline nose, his appearance had not changed in the eight years since she had last seen him. Today he wore a burgundy jacket that emphasized the width of his shoulders, and tapered down to his waist.

  “Lady Hebe,” he said in a contained voice, bowing over her hand. “You are looking well.” He stared at her as if he needed to find a reason for her existence.

  “And you.” The sinews in her neck began to ache. She glanced over his shoulder. “Is that Barney Gordon over there? He is now married, I hear. And your wife, Lord Rydale? Is she present?”

  Winsome laughed. “Also past and future. He hasn’t chosen a wife yet. I tell him he is looking more miserable by the year and soon no one will have him, but he doesn’t seem to care. To date, my matchmaking has been a disaster.”

  Lord Rydale’s cynical mouth tilted on one side. “She can’t find anyone who can afford me.”

  Hebe swallowed. She knew he hadn’t married, of course, or she wouldn’t be here. To know that matters were as dire as he indicated, moneywise, somewhat relieved her. “What is your cost, Lord Rydale?” she asked in a smooth voice.

  Nine years ago, she had assumed he wasn’t badly off. He had a noble title, but as a young man, his father, the previous earl, had come into an inheritance that was purportedly a little depleted. Since he had died, all the un-entailed property had been sold, leaving Rydale a dilapidated manor house in Norfolk, although from all accounts, he lived in rooms in the city most of the year.

  He lifted his eyebrows with an indifference she found paralyzing. “Sinc
e I haven’t met anyone likely to make me an offer, I can’t say. What did your late husband offer for you?”

  “I’m sure you know what I am worth.” She lifted her chin. Her money gave her the status she hadn’t possessed when younger. “The gossips have been discussing my fortune for the past year. You have a title. That should be worth something to a wealthy man with a spare daughter.”

  She knew, because her title had caught Horace’s interest. Other than him, she could only choose from men who were either too old, or who didn’t appeal to her at all. Had her parents any money, she could have remained on the shelf, but she was expected to provide for her family, being easy on the eye, and likely to do well for herself. Horace was barely middle-aged, and he delighted in her title. He could also afford to help her parents. He had paid off the debts, assuming his unborn children would inherit her family’s freeholds, and he had given her parents a generous stipend for the upkeep of the estate.

  “I had forgotten that you two always bickered,” Langsdene said, two lines forming between his eyebrows “I could never work out which of you came off best.”

  “Lady Hebe did. She is the one who now has a fortune.” His eyelids lowering to express a stark disinterest in the conversation, Rydale stalked off with his usual lean-hipped arrogance.

  Hebe stared after him. “No wonder he can’t find a woman who can afford him,” she said, tucking an errant ringlet behind her ear. “All that surliness wrapped up in a misleadingly attractive package.”

  Winsome lifted her shoulders. “I agree about the packaging, but I’ve always seen Alex as the epitome of a gentleman.”

  Hebe lifted a casual shoulder. “He informed me years ago that I would try the patience of a saint.”

  “I doubt anyone would call Alex a saint.” Winsome linked her arm with Hebe’s. “Let me re-introduce you to everyone and then I can show you over the gardens. We need to take advantage of this lovely weather.”