Page 32 of Bad Luck Bride (Scandal at the Savoy #3)
“Why ever not?” Delia laughed. “Surely, it’s not because of Devlin Sharpe?
What does he think, that Devlin is going to seduce you and take you off to Gretna Green in some bizarre attempt to repeat history?
Heavens!” she added as Kay made a grimace.
“That is what he thinks, isn’t it? That’s the real reason you didn’t come to the soiree, isn’t it? Because Wilson is jealous of Devlin?”
“I suppose he is, though it’s ridiculous, really.”
“Is it?” Delia smiled a little, her expression half wry, half amused. “You don’t think it’s reasonable for him to be jealous of a man nearly half his age and twice as good looking? A man,” she added when Kay made an impatient sound, “with whom you have a romantic history?”
“Exactly,” Kay agreed with an emphatic nod. “History is what it is, history , as in the past. Over and done with. Dead and gone. Buried,” she added for good measure.
“All right, all right,” Delia said, still smiling.
“I appreciate your point. No need to keep hammering away at it. And since that’s the case, are you really going to allow Wilson’s unfounded jealousy to prevent you from coming to my party?
Or is it that you don’t want to come and can’t bear to tell me so you’re using Wilson as an excuse? ”
“It’s not that!” she cried. “As I already told you, I do want to come. But—” Kay broke off, swallowing hard. “Wilson is a complicated man.”
“No man is complicated. And a little jealousy is good for them. The only way for a woman to deal with a man’s jealousy,” she went on as Kay opened her mouth to reply, “is to show him he has nothing to worry about. Which is impossible to do by the tactic of avoidance. Trust me on this. I’ve been married three times, darling, and I know what I’m talking about. ”
Kay had no doubt of that. But sadly, she did not have her friend’s experience handling the vagaries of the sterner sex. “That’s all very well, but I can’t afford—that is, I don’t want to antagonize him. It’s not worth the risk,” she added, reminding herself firmly of that fact as she spoke.
“Risk?” Delia’s voice rose sharply on the word. “What risk?”
Kay decided she’d said more than enough. She’d already had one lecture on this subject from Devlin. She didn’t need one from her friend. “I only meant I don’t want a quarrel five weeks before my wedding.”
Delia didn’t seem satisfied, but thankfully, she didn’t pursue the question. “I can ensure that your attendance at my party does not cause any friction between you and Wilson,” she said instead, displaying all her usual blithe assurance.
“Even you can’t move mountains, Dee.”
“No? Well, the mountain in question is coming this way, so let’s test your hypothesis, shall we?
Mr. Rycroft!” she added, looking past Kay’s shoulder and donning a wide smile.
“How lovely to see you again so soon. And you’ve arrived at the perfect moment to settle a little dispute between Kay and myself. ”
“Oh?” Wilson paused beside Kay. “What dispute is that?”
“Simon, I understand, has invited you to his little house party two weeks hence? I have invited your wife-to-be, of course, but sadly, she is not sure she ought to come. She says,” Delia added with a laugh, ignoring the nudge of Kay’s slipper, “that she has far too much to do here before the wedding.”
“So she does.”
“Oh, but I’ve assured her that I’m happy to help with anything she needs before and after the house party, so she really has no excuse at all to refuse.
And so many of our mutual acquaintances will be attending.
My cousins, for instance. Not the duke himself, sadly, but three of his sisters will be there.
They know Kay already, of course, though they haven’t seen her for ages.
All of them have said how much they look forward to seeing her again.
If she’s not there,” Delia added with a sigh, “they’ll be so disappointed.
And so will I. You don’t want us to be disappointed, do you? ”
Kay choked at this blatantly manipulative tactic, but Delia went on serenely, “Rycroft, do, please, use your influence with Kay to make her change her mind. We simply must have her at the party. The duke’s sisters are quite set on it.”
“Hmm…” He paused, and though he might desire the goodwill of the duke’s family, Kay could tell he was not pleased. She could only offer him a helpless shrug in reply.
“I’m not sure what I can do,” he said after a moment. “If Kay feels that she’s too busy, then—”
“As I said, I’m happy to help her,” Delia assured. “She says she doesn’t want to impose on me, but I’ve assured her that it’s no imposition at all. Now that I’ve returned from Paris, I’ve plenty of free time, and I want to help, so please add your voice to mine and help me persuade her.”
“Well, all right, then,” he said with a heartiness that was unmistakably forced, the same heartiness, Kay appreciated now, that he’d displayed that night at Delia’s opera supper, the heartiness of being pinned in a corner, and she could only cross her fingers it didn’t backfire.
“There’s no more to say. Of course Kay will be happy to attend the house party. ”
At those words, a flicker of something crossed Delia’s face, an emotion Kay couldn’t quite identify.
But it was gone in an instant, and Delia bestowed on Wilson the same melting smile that had enabled her to secure three husbands.
“Thank you,” she said reverently. “I won’t forget this.
And if there’s anything I can ever do for you… ”
Kay saw the look of understanding pass between them before Wilson gave them both a nod of farewell and moved on, making for the refreshment tables at the other end of the room.
“Well played, Delia,” Kay murmured. “You realize you just promised to help his daughter make her London come out in a few years?”
“Of course. The girl’s not awful, I hope?”
“I’ve no idea. I haven’t yet met her. But upon my engagement, she wrote me a very sweet letter welcoming me to the family. And if the miniature of her that Wilson keeps in his pocket is any indication, she’s quite pretty, too.”
“That helps. She’ll have a generous dowry, I trust?”
Kay smiled. “Obscenely generous, I daresay. By the way, I noticed you didn’t tell Wilson how the duke’s brother-in-law disapproves of me and my notorious past.”
“I didn’t think it was necessary to go into trivial details about Percy Proper, especially since he and Idina won’t be there. So, now that your fiancé has given his approval, are you going to accept my invitation? Or must I beat you about the head?”
“All right, all right,” she capitulated, laughing. “After all that effort on your part, how could I refuse?”
“Absolutely right. Now that we’ve got that all settled, I’d best tell Simon to notify his housekeeper to prepare for three more guests. I’ll leave it to you to give Josephine and Cassandra the good news.”
Kay nodded. “I just hope,” she added as her friend moved off, “that neither of us lives to regret this.”
“I won’t, darling,” Delia promised over her shoulder. “And neither will you.”
“Easy for you to say,” Kay replied, crossing her fingers. “You’re not the one with a jealous fiancé.”
But her words were wasted. Delia, sadly, was already too far away to hear them.
Ivywild, Simon’s country home in Berkshire, was a solid, rectangular structure of red brick and gray stone that, true to its name, was swathed in ivy.
Set on a rise, the house overlooked gardens set amid wide expanses of lawn, beyond which beech woods, fields of newly planted wheat, and undulating hills of misty spring green stretched endlessly in all directions.
Devlin’s room was a sizable one, with a comfortable bed and a bath just across the corridor. Despite the agreeable accommodations, however, he knew Kay was here, and that fact made him look forward to this house party with about as much enthusiasm as he afforded visits to the dentist.
Only through the first afternoon, and this party was already living up to his exceedingly low expectations.
It hadn’t escaped his notice that Rycroft had prevented Kay from eating a second scone with her tea, and afterward, when she’d said she was going for a walk, the American had insisted on accompanying her.
Watching them, Devlin had wondered in exasperation if the man told Kay what time to go to bed and what time to get up and what dress to wear each day.
The idea that she was going to marry this man and that it was all his fault made Devlin want to pound his head into a wall. Three of the duke’s sisters were also here, and their censorious looks in his direction didn’t help his mood.
He could have made some excuse and stayed away, of course, but he feared that it would have made no difference. Over two weeks since he’d last seen Kay, and yet he’d been unable to stop thinking about her.
Despite his best efforts, his mind had insisted on returning repeatedly to their conversation the night of the Mayfair soiree, and every time he thought of it, frustration, anger, guilt, and powerlessness surged in him again.
But those emotions, he appreciated grimly, were the easy ones. There was a far deeper feeling, lurking down inside, one that was proving much harder to conquer than it should have been.
Desire.
It rumbled inside him every time he looked at her. It shamed him every time he looked at Pam. And it slayed him with self-loathing every time he looked in a mirror.
Still, there was nothing for it. He’d accepted Simon’s invitation and that was that.
He’d assumed, in light of what she’d told him the night of the soiree, that she wouldn’t be here, but now it was too late to bow out.
And after all his teasing about her being afraid to be in his company, avoiding hers would be a laughable display of hypocrisy.
He walked to the window of his room and looked out at the view, but when he saw the gardens below, he almost groaned. There, as if to torture him, was a boxwood maze.