Page 12 of The Danger of Desire

Because tonight he meant to discover who was after the pretty Miss Trevor’s fortune. And he would make sure the man never preyed on an innocent again.

Shortly after 11:00 p.m., once the maid had left, Delia opened the window-box seat in her bedchamber. She removed several books before lifting the lid of the false bottom. She’d been lucky to stumble upon the hidey-hole her first week here, and she’d made good use of it since then.

Just as she was about to take out the hidden contents, a knock came at the door, and a muffled voice asked, “Delia? Are you still awake?”

Brilliana. Blast.

Swiftly, Delia closed the false bottom and began piling books atop it. “Come in,” she called out.

Her sister-in-law slipped inside, looking like a wraith in her nightdress and filmy wrapper. “I hope I’m not disturbing you. Aunt Agatha said you’d gone to bed with a headache, but I thought I heard you about.”

Thank heaven Delia was still dressed for bed. “Yes, my head is feeling much better. So I got up to look for something to read.” She grabbed a book and closed the window-seat top. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me either.” Brilliana seemed lost, like a princess who’d stumbled out of a fairy tale. She’d always been gorgeous—a full-figured beauty whose hair wasnota mess of corkscrew curls like Delia’s—yet Delia couldn’t envy her.

Hard to envy anyone who’d been dealt the hand that life had dealt Brilliana.

Brilliana sat down on the bed, and Delia’s Persian cat, who’d been dozing on the pillow, woke up to hiss a warning.

“That cat hates me,” Brilliana said ruefully.

Delia chuckled. “Flossie hates everyone.”

“Except you.”

“And Reynold.”

A sigh escaped Delia’s sister-in-law. “Is that why you hold on to the cantankerous little devil? Because she was Reynold’s?”

Delia tamped down her grief-ridden anger. “I suppose. I don’t have many things to remember him by.”

Brilliana stared at her hands. “You have a nephew.”

“Of course. I didn’t mean—”

“I know. This has been hard for all of us.”

Delia ventured a smile. “At least little Silas is unaware of his lack of a father. You take good care of him.”

Brilliana’s face lit up. “He’s the most beautiful baby. I wish Reynold could see how he has grown.” Pride crept into her voice. “He walks very well now.”

“I noticed,” Delia said. “Give that child a couple of years and he’ll be leading us all a merry dance.”

Her sister-in-law’s brown eyes darkened to black. “If there’s anywhere left for him to dance.”

With a clutch in her heart, Delia sat down beside Brilliana. “Don’t worry. I have matters well in hand. If I have anything to say about it, Silas will have a fully working, debt-free estate by the time he’s old enough to manage it.”

Brilliana stared off into space. “That’s why I’m here, actually. I fear I know how you mean to ‘manage it.’ ”

Fighting to keep the alarm from her voice, Delia said, “What are you talking about?”

“Aunt Agatha mentioned that your friend Clarissa’s cousin, Lord Knightford, was very interested in you at the breakfast.”

Delia stifled her sigh of relief. She should have known Brilliana wouldn’t have guessed the truth. There wasn’t a suspicious bone in her sister-in-law’s body. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

Brilliana seized her hands, which provoked another hiss from Flossie, who was jealous of everyone who came near Delia. The cat had already lost Reynold, after all. “I don’t want you to sell yourself for our sake.”

“Sell myself?” She pasted on a smile. “Isn’t offering a nice dowry more like buying myself a husband?”