The Lady In Question (27 page)

Nor had Kimberly been at all happy to hear Tony would be leaving the department when this episode was finished. All in all, it was not a particularly pleasant meeting. Tony reached his room, stepped inside and shut the door behind him. It was small but adequate for his needs, or rather Gordon’s, with a bed, chest of drawers and a writing desk. He leased rooms that weren’t substantially bigger than this, but then he was scarcely ever there. It had only been recently that he’d spent more time in London than anywhere else. Indeed, he had a town house somewhere in the city, as part of his inheritance, that he’d never so much as stepped foot in. That too was something he needed to think about.

Still, Tony’s day hadn’t been a complete disaster. He had made arrangements to provide Delia with enough of her adventures to move sharing his bed to the top of her list. He smiled at the thought of what he had in store for her. She would have a day she would never forget. If all did not work out between them, he could at least give her that. A day to remember always.

He sat down at the desk, selected a piece of plain paper and a pen, thought for a moment, then penned a few lines. He folded the note and sealed it. That should do nicely. Tony adjusted his mustache in the small mirror over the basin, checked to make certain his eyebrows were still straight, scratched his scalp, then dusted a bit more powder on it. He had become used to the cotton in his upper jaw and the spectacles and could even ignore them, but damnation, he hated the powder and the mustache and the eyebrows. At this point, he hated everything that made up Gordon. It would almost be worth it to confess all to Delia and take his chances. Of course, those chances were slim at the moment, but he loved Delia and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He’d never given up on anything in his life without a fight, and he was not about to start now.

Tony returned to the front hall just in time for the arrival of Delia and her sister, accompanied by high spirits and a large number of oversized parcels.

“What a grand day we have had, Gordon.” Delia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “We have made no end of interesting purchases of fabrics and linens and I can scarcely remember what else. Would you have these packages brought upstairs, please?”

“At once, my lady.” He handed her the note. “This arrived while you were out.”

Delia stared at it for a moment as if debating whether to read it now or wait until she was alone.

“Do open it now, Delia,” Miss Effington said impatiently. “It’s obviously from your Lord Mysterious.”

Tony glanced at Mac, who was doing his best to hold back a grin.

“Very well.” Delia unfolded the note and read it to herself, a slow, private smile spreading across her face.

“What does it say?” Miss Effington demanded.

“It’s very brief,” Delia murmured, still studying the note. “A carriage will arrive for me at dawn three days hence.” Delia looked up. “It’s signed ‘St. Stephens’ and that’s all it says.”

That wasn’t entirely all it said, but Tony was rather glad she hadn’t shared the rest with her sister.

“No indication of what he has in mind?” Miss Effington frowned in obvious disappointment. “I daresay that’s rather annoying of him.”

“I think it’s quite exciting,” Delia said staunchly. “Part of the fun of adventure is the surprise inherent in it.”

“I suppose,” Miss Effington muttered.

Delia stared at her sister. “I believe you’re jealous.”

“Good Lord, Delia, I’ve never been more jealous in my life.” Miss Effington grinned. “You must promise to give me every detail afterwards.”

“Every detail?” Delia’s brow rose. She met her sister’s gaze and the women laughed at some privately held joke.

Tony did hope Delia would not share
every
detail. It was difficult enough to try to win the heart of one woman without another scrutinizing his efforts. Particularly a woman who did not especially like him. No, if this was a sporting event, Miss Effington would no doubt be wholeheartedly cheering for the opposition.

“That’s that, then. I must be off.” Miss Effington gave her sister a quick hug. “I shall be back first thing in the morning with an entourage of workmen and a seamstress or two and whatever else I can think of.”

“I do appreciate it all, you know,” Delia said.

“As well you should.” Miss Effington’s voice rang with affectionate firmness. The ladies said their farewells and Miss Effington took her leave. Mac and the other two footmen carried the packages upstairs.

“I am quite famished, Gordon, and should like dinner as soon as possible.” She grinned. “Spending money takes a great deal of effort, you know.”

“I can well imagine, ma’am.”

She laughed and started up the stairs, then called back over her shoulder, “Backgammon after dinner, Gordon?”

“I quite look forward to it, ma’am.”

“As do I.” Abruptly, she stopped and turned back to him, her brow furrowed. “How are you feeling?”

He ignored a stab of guilt. “Quite well, thank you for asking.”

“Good.” She nodded with relief, started off again, then paused and turned back. “Life is really turning out quite better than I ever dared to hope.” An expression akin to amazement or awe brightened her face and his heart twisted at the sight. “Who would have ever imagined?”

“I wish you every happiness, my lady,” he said without thinking. “You truly deserve it.”

“I doubt that, but thank you, Gordon.” She laughed softly and continued up the stairs. He stared after her for a long moment. She had the look of a woman falling in love. Odd, the realization didn’t bring quite the same sense of smug satisfaction it had before. His discussion with Mac hung in the back of his mind. Tony dreaded telling her the truth. Could she possibly ever love him or anyone enough to forgive a deception like this? Good God, he hoped so. Prayed so. He was betting his future on it. And his heart.

Still, there was a fine line between love and hate, and it was entirely possible knowing the truth might push Delia from one side to the other.

Chapter 15

My Dear Delia,

I left this note for you because I was not entirely certain you’d listen to me otherwise.
I know you are quite looking forward to whatever Lord Mysterious has planned for you, and
as much as I wish you well, I urge you, dearest sister, to tread with caution. Your desire to be a
woman of experience is one thing, but I fear you are in danger of losing your heart to this man. I
suspect you weathered losing Wilmont as you did because love was not involved, and suspect as
well you are perilously close to now finding love for the first time.
I freely confess you have surprised me any number of times in recent months, but still I know
you well enough to know once your heart is engaged it can be easily broken. I fear my advice may
well come too late, but take care, dear sister. Do not let your newfound passion for adventure
lead you to heartbreak.

On other matters, I have all sorts of marvelous ideas for the refurbishing of the remainder of
your house. I know you are as pleased as I with the result of our efforts in what I now think of
affectionately as the blue room, although I prefer not to dwell on precisely what activities may
take place there.

Curiosity kept Delia on the very edge of the carriage seat. She sat alone in the enclosed vehicle and had been a bit surprised when she realized Tony had not seen fit to accompany her. Still, his absence lent a delightful sense of heightened mystery to the proceedings. She smiled to herself. Not that the situation needed it. With every turn of the wheels, her anticipation and excitement grew. It was good to get out of the house, although it was blissfully quiet this morning. The house had been filled with all manner of people in recent days: painters and paper hangers, movers and seamstress, all operating under Cassie’s watchful eye.

Indeed, her sister had been not unlike a general commanding her forces in a battle waged with hammers and paint and fabric. It had seemed like a scene from Bedlam to Delia, although Cassie had constantly reassured her the chaos was entirely organized and proceeding nicely. Still, Delia had noted some of her things in the bedchamber she still used appeared to have been rearranged, although nothing was missing. It was probably no more than the work of the new maids, yet she had the oddest sense of something amiss.

Both sisters were surprised to discover Cassie had a true talent for decorating, a realization that spurred her enthusiasm and determination. Indeed the end result was a tasteful symphony in blues and golds, silks and satins. The perfect new bedchamber for a woman of independence. A woman bent on seduction.

Delia glanced out the window and noted they had turned into Hyde Park. The park was all but deserted at this early hour, no doubt exactly why this was her destination. She’d been truly touched by Cassie’s concern, but there was no need for it. Just as with Charles, she was keenly aware of what she was getting into. With Charles, she knew full well her reputation, the loss of her virtue and scandal were at stake. With Tony, quite simply, it was her heart. She knew the risk and was willing to take it for the adventures that went well beyond whatever he had planned for her. And what she had planned for him.

The carriage rolled to a stop. The door opened and Tony poked his head in.

“Beautiful morning for an adventure, Lady Wilmont.” He grinned and helped her out of the carriage. This was a distant area of the park near the far end of the Serpentine that she’d never stepped foot in before. Almost like a foreign land. How very exciting. What was the man planning?

“Indeed it is, Lord St. Stephens.” She held his hand a moment longer than was proper and gazed up at him. Her heart skipped a beat. “And where is my adventure?”

He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Your grand adventure, don’t you mean?”

“I daresay that’s yet to be decided.”

“I can see you are not going to make this easy.” He led her around behind the carriage. “I believe your adventure — and I can confidently say it is in the category of
grand —
is about to begin.”

She followed his gaze and stopped short. Delia widened her eyes in disbelief. “What is that?”

“Come, now, Delia, you know precisely what it is.” A satisfied grin curled his lips.

“It’s a camel,” she said slowly.

A very large, pale brown beast stood beside the road chewing in what appeared a most contented manner, but Delia suspected it was a ruse. Nothing that large could truly be that docile. Besides, she’d read that the creatures were not at all pleasant. A grinning stableman held on to its reins and she hoped he had a firm grip. She’d only seen camels drawn in books or in an occasional painting depicting the mysteries of the desert. She’d never imagined they were quite so big, nor quite so threatening.

“Indeed it is.” Tony stepped away and spread his arms in a wide flourish befitting grandness. “And he

— actually, I believe it’s a she — is your first grand adventure.”

“Charming,” she muttered.

“You said you wanted to ride a camel.” He gestured again and she could have sworn she heard a trumpet fanfare in the far distance. “And here it is.”

“I see that.” Good heavens, one couldn’t help but see it. It was enormous. “Might I speak to you for a moment? Privately?”

“Of course.” He glanced at the stableman and lowered his voice confidentially. “She’s quite excited by all this.”

“I can see that, my lord,” the man said, still grinning.

Delia stalked back to the other side of the carriage, Tony at her heels. This was absurd. Ridiculous. He was truly deranged if he thought for a moment she’d get on that thing. She whirled toward him. “Are you mad?”

“Mad with desire, passion.” He wagged his brows wickedly. “Possibly even love.”

“Yes, well, love is the only thing that would get me on that…that…that animal!”

He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the carriage. “Why, my dear Lady Wilmont, surely you’re not afraid of a mere beast of burden?”

“I’m not afraid, exactly,” she lied. “It’s just most” — she searched for a word — “inappropriate.”

He laughed. “There’s scarcely anything on your list that isn’t inappropriate. I daresay, inappropriateness is as much a part of adventure as surprise.” He studied her for a moment. “You were surprised, weren’t you?”

“Dear God, yes!”

“You said you wanted to ride on a camel. I distinctly remember. It was the very first thing you said. Therefore, I thought it was the adventure you wanted most.”

She huffed. “It was the first thing that came to mind, not what I wanted most. And I’m certain I meant ride a camel in the desert, in some exotic country far, far away, not ride a camel in Hyde Park. One is an adventure; the other is a…a…a joke. You should have realized that.”

“But you didn’t say desert,” he said pointedly.

“As I recall, I had difficulties saying or thinking much of anything at all at that particular moment.” She wrung her hands together. “I can scarcely be accountable for what I might have gasped,
unthinking,
in the throes of —”

He grinned knowingly.

She absolutely refused to give him the satisfaction of saying
passion.
“In the throes of whatever I was in the throes of. I barely remember what I said.”

“Fortunately for us both, I do.”

“Oh, that is fortunate.” She glared at him. “You are a truly wicked man, St. Stephens.”

“Not at all.” His grin widened, if possible. “I am a wonderful man.”

“You have entirely too much confidence and you are quite, quite arrogant.”

He shrugged in a humble manner she didn’t believe for a moment. “I know.”

Of course, his arrogance might have been the tiniest bit amusing. His confidence a tad admirable. His grin just a touch infectious. She struggled to keep a smile from her face and crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not getting on that creature.”