Deliverance

by Samantha Schinder

  “You like me just as I am, then?” Deliverance asked, relieved he was not enamored with this odious primping routine.

  “Just as you are,” he confirmed with a nod. With that they sat back and chatted easily as the coach glided through the city.

  “Aunt Claude’s estate is on the other end of the borough, not as close to Kensington or Hyde Park…a point she loathes,” Jack remarked dryly.

  “You do not hold them in high regard,” Deliverance noted, although she knew some of why that was.

  “No. I have found some of the most honorable people are the lowliest, like Finley, or my fellow soldiers I served with in the conflict. Not that there are not honorable people in high society…it just seems to breed less of them, I’m afraid. My aunt and her progeny are…manipulative and self-involved,” Jack said.

  Deliverance had nothing to add to this. It had been her assessment as well.

  “Gird your loins, Master and Mistress. We are about to pull into the drive,” Stevens called back to them in a tone too jaunty for the occasion. Deliverance wondered if he enjoyed the thought of her squirming under the microscope of all those people, but pushed the thought aside.

  “It will be okay,” Jack reassured her, and squeezed her hand, then he alit from the carriage in front of another imposing manor house, brightly illuminated with activity. He held out his hand to her. She swallowed, sucked in a deep breath, and took his hand.

  CHAPTER 18

  Deliverance

  “The Honorable Senator Jack Quentin and Lady Deliverance Von Hattern!” The doorman announced them as they entered the buzzing ballroom. Deliverance clutched Jack’s arm more tightly.

  The cavernous room, with its sweeping ceilings and relief-laden walls, was humming with activity. The area would have been warm with the press of rustling people despite the cheerful fires lit in each marble hearth in the room. Glittering chandeliers dangled above the fray, throwing diffracted rainbows across the parquet floor. It was not as large as the ballroom at Hathaway, but Hathaway’s ballroom, in Deliverance’s mind, remained only partially lit…sleeping. This ballroom was anything but sleeping.

  The din of chatter threatened to overcome Deliverance and she clung with even more vigor to her faux-fiancé’s arm. A string quintet sang in the background and smells of flowers and champagne hung in the air, humid with breath and gossip.

  Jack expertly guided her into the throng. “Relax. You are lovely. It will be fine,” he reassured her. “Come, I will introduce you to some of my associates in parliament…but only the ones whose politics I approve of.” He said this overly loudly, and then pretended to overlook a stately man standing directly in front of them, as if waiting. “Nope. Not seeing anyone over here,” he added with a glint of mischief in his eye.

  “Senator Quentin, you jest!” The man called jovially, coming forward to take Deliverance’s hand. “And this must be the mysterious bride to be. Since your fiancé is so lax in his manners, I will introduce myself. I am Senator John Ribald.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Deliverance responded, allowing the elder man to plant a kiss on her glove.

  “You wouldn’t be if you saw the bill he put forward on the floor last month,” Jack said dryly, but quickly dropped his charade and smiled warmly. “This is my intended, Lady Deliverance Von Hattern.”

  “Von Hattern? Southish then, eh?” the elder man inquired. Deliverance nodded. “Jack has been traveling quite a bit. Bring me back one just as pretty next time!”

  “I’m afraid I do not deal in tea, diamonds, or women, Senator Ribald. But I shall take note of your request.”

  “He’s a funny one, your intended,” Senator Ribald told her. They exchanged a few more friendly words with the senator and then moved on.

  That went smoothly, Deliverance thought. Perhaps this will not be so odious.

  Jack escorted her around the ballroom, introducing her to various parties, a whirl of names threatening to drown Deliverance. Some regarded her warmly, others distantly. She was aware there were threads of politics woven into the fabric of conversation here, of which she was only slightly aware. That made it dangerous. But she did the best she could.

  “Ah, I see Senator Smithson over there. I need to press him on the Nar issue a bit. Feel him out. But I’d rather do so without a Narisi standing right in front of him…but where to put you? I do not feel like leaving you alone in this shark tank,” Jack said, stretching his neck to catch a glimpse of the man with whom he desired an audience.

  “Go!” Deliverance insisted. “I am not inept nor in any danger of being eaten alive. I shall be fine on my own for a while. Take care of your business.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked uncertainly.

  “Positive.”

  Jack had not been gone three minutes before the sharks descended. Deliverance mused perhaps he had some shark repellent quality he had developed over many years of dealing with this class of people. Mallory—whom Deliverance recognized from the uncomfortable exchange at the dress shop—was flanked by a cotillion of bottom feeders in petticoats and closing in fast.

  There was no way for Deliverance to gracefully escape in the crush of bodies.

  “Lady Deliverance!” Mallory cooed sweetly to her. “Lady Deliverance! Over here!”

  She arrived with her cronies in front of Deliverance in a swirl of perfume and ill intentions.

  “Lady Mallory. How delightful,” said Deliverance, her tone indicating she was anything but delighted.

  “Actually, it’s Miss.” She sniffed. “Some of us have yet to marry into titles. But then you haven’t either…yet.”

  Deliverance caught her drift immediately. What a wormy little thing she was!

  “I see you decided against the purple. Pity,” she added, eyes running up and down Deliverance’s outfit critically. “Your people do look good in it.”

  “Do you know many Southlanders?” Deliverance asked, eyes casting for a suitable way to escape. Drat. None presented itself.

  “Oh no,” another of the spiteful hens chimed in. “We only associate with suitable company.”

  Well, that went mean quite quickly, Deliverance thought dryly. “Well, I must be off to…” Deliverance tried, but Mallory cut her off.

  “Oh, do stay and chat with us. It is quite a novelty for us to see what exactly Jack sees in you.”

  “Mallory rather thought she would be able to land him,” one of the other hens clucked. Mallory cast her friend a disgusted look.

  “Must you be so crass, Gertrude?” she complained.

  “What? You said it was only a matter of time. Until SHE came along,” the other girl replied, annoyed as well. Deliverance was quickly tiring of this little game.

  Her savior came in the form of an elegant young woman perhaps a few years older than Deliverance.

  “Miss Mallory Trenton,” said a voice from behind Deliverance’s shoulder. Perched there was a blonde in an elegant periwinkle blue ball gown, her corn silk tresses gathered into an elaborate braid atop her head. Her intelligent eyes mirrored the color of her dress and were affixed upon Deliverance’s would-be foe.

  “Ah, Lady Pennington.” M
allory greeted the woman, and the circle of intrigue expanded to allow her in.

  “Actually, I prefer Doctor,” the woman corrected Mallory, and turned to Deliverance, offering her a handshake. “Doctor Adelaide Pennington. Some of us prefer the titles we earned rather than those we stole or married.”

  Deliverance gratefully shook the blonde’s hand, not quite certain she was not another foe, but definitely certain this new addition to the party did not like Mallory. The enemy of thy enemy, and all that, thought Deliverance.

  “Well, lucky for you that you did not have to marry your title,” said Mallory with syrupy sweetness. “I admit I did not expect to see you tonight. This is a debut for the younger girls, after all.”

  Doctor Adelaide, the picture of grace, remained entirely unruffled by Mallory’s rude insinuations. She again turned to Deliverance and interpreted, “She means to call me a spinster. An old biddy if you will.”

  The woman’s directness flustered Mallory and her flock. “Well, I meant no offense!” She blustered.

  “Of course not. Just like you meant no offense when suggesting Lady Deliverance here wear a color denoting subservience in her culture. Never you fear, Miss Trenton, we all know exactly what you meant,” said Doctor Adelaide smoothly, never raising her voice above a graceful lilt.

  Doctor Adelaide had turned her back to the women almost entirely now, looking as if she intended to address Deliverance alone. And yet the flock did not disperse. She cast an annoyed glance over her demurely laced shoulder.

  “Oh, and Miss Trenton? Whoever does your brows should receive a stern word. She missed an entire patch right in the middle of your brow. You should really see to it,” Doctor Adelaide cooed, and did not bat an eyelash as Mallory smacked a hand to her forehead and ran away gasping in tears, her entourage in hot pursuit.

  “There. That is better. One can breathe again,” Doctor Adelaide said with a small smile on her pert mouth.

  “Thank you for the rescue,” Deliverance said earnestly.

  “Do not mention it. These social obligations can be frightfully dull or frightfully aggressive. I tend to avoid them as often as I can. Besides, any friend of Jack Quentin’s is a friend of mine,” Doctor Adelaide replied, pausing to swipe a couple glasses of champagne from a passing waiters’ tray. “There, that should be medicinal…I would know. Doctor and all that.”

  Deliverance smiled gratefully and took a sip of the fizzing liquid. It tickled her sinuses but did take a bit of the edge off. “You’re a friend of Jack’s?” Deliverance inquired.

  “Ah yes. We are old childhood friends. I knew Jack when he was still in nappies,” Doctor Adelaide said, stepping out into the room. “Here, if you move like you are deep in conversation and do not stand still, you are less likely to attract interceders in your conversation.” Sage advice, Deliverance noted, as they adeptly made their way around the room.

  Eventually, Jack caught back up with them.

  “Ah, Addie, love!” he said brightly, kissing both of Doctor Adelaide’s cheeks warmly. She greeted him in kind. “Thank you for saving my damsel in distress,” he added cheekily.

  “You know I am a sucker for a damsel,” Doctor Adelaide replied jokingly.

  “She would never submit to playing the maiden when we were children,” Jack told Deliverance, a glint of something like pride in his eyes. “She was a knight or else! You look ravishing, by the way. I’ve always liked that color on you.”

  “I prefer my lab coat,” Doctor Adelaide admitted rather wistfully.

  They conversed easily for a while. Deliverance noticed how Jack’s demeanor relaxed in Addie’s presence—she insisted Deliverance call her Addie as well. It filled Deliverance with a feeling she could not quite put her finger on…not unease exactly. Addie had done nothing to warrant an uneasy feeling, after all. But there was something about the familiar way she touched his arm or he elicited a laugh from her that was disconcerting.

  Jack broke through Deliverance’s thoughts, asking her to join him on the dance floor. He had asked Addie, but she declined with polished reserve.

  Deliverance gulped. “Don’t worry. You are quite graceful,” Jack assured her, leading her out onto the floor.

  Deliverance became increasingly aware at the stares they were garnering. Some sneering and some approving. Everyone had an opinion about Senator Jack Quentin’s love life, apparently.

  As the waltz began, Deliverance moved stiffly in his arms. After a beat, Jack whispered to her, “Look at me…no, ignore them. Just look at me.”

  At first, she resisted for some unknown reason, but relented, reaching up with her eyes to find his stare enveloping hers. With his quiet reassurance, she began to relax and move more fluidly.

  “There. See? Not so bad now, is it?” said Jack as they twirled across the floor. Deliverance admitted she was having quite a bit of fun. The champagne helped as well, a tonic to release the burning of the prying eyes and hissing of malevolent whispers. They danced several more together…more than Eleanor had instructed her was appropriate for one dance partner, but neither she nor Jack cared.

  After a while, the crush of people was beginning to wear on Deliverance, though. Jack, ever his intuitive self, picked up on her waning.

  “Come, let’s grab some fresh air,” he said, leading her off the dance floor and outside toward the terrace and the back garden. “I will say one thing. Aunt Claude does buy good champagne,” he quipped, but then something caught his eye. “Ah, darling, I see one more senator I have to goad. Would you mind terribly if I go prod him for a few minutes?”

  “Prod away!” Deliverance replied. He looked at her as if asking with his eyes if she was sure she was fine being left to take air on her own, but she shooed him away with a kiss on his cheek.

  After he loped away to catch his next political target, Deliverance turned to enjoy the breeze. The night air hung solidly, puffing only at broad intervals. The darkened gardens were, however, quite cool compared to the press of the ballroom. From out of the thickets in the gardens, Deliverance caught snippets of giggles and hushes from lovers absconding for some privacy in the dark.

  “Lovely night for it.” The voice came too close to her ear, startling her.

  Behind her stood a man, about her equal age with age, to whom she had not been introduced. He stood with the casual air of a man who knew he was handsome and was used to capitalizing on that fact. “Ned Turner. And you must be the exquisite pearl Jack Quentin brought back from the Southlands.”

  Deliverance was not sure why being referred to as hardened clam spit was supposed to be flattering, but she assumed by his tone it was. She nodded briefly, replying, “Deliverance Von Hattern.”

  “Ah, but soon to be Deliverance Quentin, I see,” the man remarked, grabbing Deliverance’s hand and eyeing the ring upon her finger.

  She was starting to become uncomfortable with the intensity in the man’s stare, and grew more so when he did not release her hand.

  “Yes, quite soon,” she replied, looking around for an escape.

  It was not until the man put his hand upon her bare shoulder that she felt his gift. It was unlike any gift she had seen before, even in her careful observation of life in Lontown these past few da
ys. The sparkling green of his hand against her skin made her feel ever so drowsy. Like her consciousness was being drained like a swirl of water down a bathtub drain. Hazily, she thought she should take his power and reverse it on him, but she found her head too cloudy to think.

  Her head lolled back just as she heard Jack’s angry cry, “What the devil do you think you are doing, Ned!?” In a fog, she realized the man had wrapped his arms around her and was making his way for the dark maze of the garden.

  “Ah, Jack. It’s about time you shared your imports.” A detached voice floated over Deliverance’s head.

  Then suddenly the earth was tilting and she was being swept up in a familiar scent—sea and pine. Rapidly, her vision cleared. What on earth had that man been doing to her!? She found herself in Jack’s arms, as he resolutely started away from the intrusive man.

  “I was not finished with her yet,” snapped the man—Ned, Deliverance remembered. Deliverance could feel Jack’s skin begin to simmer beneath his coat and tails. Carefully, Jack set her down on the first terraced step he came to. She had not realized Ned had led her so far out until Jack brought her back within view of the house. Curious onlookers began to gather at the topmost steps of the terrace.

  Deliverance could feel the rage building, like steam pressure beneath Jack’s skin.

  “It’s all right, Jack. I am fine.” She tried to calm him, and for a second she thought it had worked.

  He brought his hand to her cheek and replied, “It is most definitely not all right.” With that, he whirled and clocked the other gentleman in the face.

  Ned staggered back from the force of the blow. Deliverance scrambled to her feet and heard cries of outrage and excitement coming from the onlookers above. God’s teeth! They were causing a scene.