Page 11 of The Spinster’s Last Dance (One Night in Blackhaven #7)

A fter the garden party, events around Delilah seemed to move very quickly. Lucy, Felicia, and Roderick all seemed unhappy but uncommunicative, while Julius was merely determined. Having linked the business of the horse thieves last week to the discovery of a cache of guns this week—and the whole to the unpleasant Dunnett, his supposed rival in love—he suddenly saw his way clear and sailed off in his borrowed ship to capture the lot and save Antonia.

Delilah, dazed, restless, and afraid to hope—though exactly what she might hope for remained unclear to her confused mind—found herself in Blackhaven with the twins. She wondered if she should worry about how well known the twins appeared to be among market stall holders, doormen, maids sweeping front steps…

“Perhaps you should have a new coat,” Delilah said to Lawrence, eyeing his worn, old hand-me-down that had once been Aubrey’s. “And Leona, you definitely need a new gown.”

“Oh, we’re in no hurry,” Lawrence said carelessly. “Shall we meet you later at the ice parlor?”

Delilah gave in. “Why not?”

Having seen some pretty muslin, she was gazing in the modiste’s window for ideas for Leona when she was accosted by Miss Talbot, in company with a middle-aged couple.

“Miss Vale, how delightful to see you. Are you acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Temple? Antonia’s parents, you know. Perhaps you would join us for tea?”

“You’re very kind, but I have promised to meet the twins for an ice.”

“Then let us do that instead.”

Accordingly, they all trooped off to the ice parlor. The Temples—who, according to Julius, had lied and hidden letters in order to separate him from Antonia—were somewhat overwhelming, and Delilah suspected Elaine Talbot had seized upon her to dilute them as far as possible. Although the twins would have been valuable in this respect, there was no sign of them, even by the time they had finished their ices.

Miss Talbot, claiming another engagement, left as soon as she laid down her spoon, mouthing “Sorry,” behind the Temples’ backs.

“Such a charming lady,” Mrs. Temple said. “Don’t you agree, Miss Vale?”

“Indeed I do,” replied Delilah, who had been more charmed before being abandoned with the lady’s unwanted hangers-on.

“She has been a great friend to our daughter. As has her brother, Lord Linfield. In fact…” Mrs. Temple leaned forward in order to confide in a lowered voice, “I believe there is an understanding between them.”

“Between whom?” Delilah asked, bewildered.

“Lord Linfield and Antonia, of course.”

Just for a moment, it felt like a blow to her stomach.

Could Antonia really be holding out for the best offer? Delilah thought of the woman’s genuine misery yesterday, her plea for Julius to be helped, and her surprised delight in being preserved as far as possible from Dunnett’s attentions. Julius and Linfield had danced with Antonia; Miss Talbot and Delilah had whisked her off to join conversations and to meet people. Antonia was certainly comfortable with Linfield, but it was Julius her eyes constantly sought.

No, the Temples were merely ambitious and indulging in a little wishful thinking. They wanted their daughter to be a baroness. And Linfield himself…

Was Delilah a fool to fall for such a confirmed bachelor? Men kissed easily—and more than kissed—without love or fear of retribution.

Lord Linfield is not such a man …

But in truth, she did not know that. She did not know him . There was an air of experience and sophistication about him that somehow was part of his attraction. But he had no reason to cozen her. Was it so hard to believe that she was sought after by such a man? That to him, she was as unique as he was to her?

She yearned suddenly to see him now, to feel the reassurance of his steady eyes and his gentle touch.

She blinked, for the Temples were saying goodbye to her and returning to the hotel to wait for their daughter. “Though I hate to leave you alone,” Mrs. Temple added without obvious regret.

“There is no cause for concern here,” Delilah assured her. “And my siblings will be here momentarily.”

Although when one of the twins did finally appear, it was only Lawrence, who all but dragged her outside the shop.

“Where is Leona?” Delilah demanded.

“By the shore watching. Dunnett abducted Mrs. Macy and Julius has captured the ship, stopping a huge cache of arms going to Ireland. Hurry!”

At the shore she discovered most of her family—including Leona—and half the town watching the approach of a rowing boat that contained a waving, smiling Julius and Antonia.

A tall man stood aside to allow her a better view.

“I wondered where you were,” Lord Linfield murmured.

“Abandoned in the ice parlor by your sister and my twins. What are you doing here?”

“Summoned by your twins, of course. No wonder Mrs. Macy was late for luncheon. They look well.”

They did. Julius and Antonia came ashore hand in hand, laughing at some private joke, and so clearly in love that all Delilah’s foolish doubts fell away. This was Julius as he used to be, not just capable and determined, but glad to be so. He was happy.

Her feelings for Linfield seemed to have imparted some greater empathy. Even though he stood some distance from her now, she was aware of his every movement, every word and gesture. Which was odd when her heart was full for Julius and she was smiling at her new sister-in-law with genuine welcome and gratitude.

*

The entire family ended up in the hotel for an impromptu tea party celebrating Julius’s engagement to Antonia. Several people who had helped in the retrieval of the guns and the arrest of Dunnett and his accomplices joined them. Relief and pride in Julius, as well as pleasure in his obvious joy, banished the troubles of his siblings, and the party was a merry one, taking up the largest part of the hotel’s spacious tearoom. The Vales, it seemed, had become part of Blackhaven.

Miss Talbot and Lord Linfield joined them, bringing little Edward. Antonia’s parents appeared a little later, looking both bewildered and affronted, although they soon succumbed to the general good cheer. The happy couple was toasted many times in both tea and champagne.

Delilah, part of it all and yet curiously separate, seemed to be in her own little bubble of happiness. It was to do with Julius and Antonia, with being surrounded by family and new friends, the whole atmosphere of uncomplicated joy in the present and the future. And with the man not even sitting beside her, but somehow, for her, central to everything.

Denzil Talbot, Baron Linfield.

Her eyes sought him without permission and found him on the other side of the table, laughing with the twins and the squire, Mr. Winslow. He rested one wrist on the table, idly playing with the stem of his wine glass, a smile lingering on his lips. Lips of such devastating passion. Her stomach dived.

He raised his gaze quite suddenly, meeting hers over Lawrence’s head. His eyes warmed excitingly, and he lifted his glass very slightly in acknowledgment. Delilah felt her happiness complete.

*

Early on Monday afternoon, Denzil called on the Princess of Hazburg, alias Mrs. Harris.

“Ah, Lord Linfield,” the princess greeted him. “I have heard directly from my brother than he plans to be in Blackhaven next week. He does not hurry himself, so there is no reason we should not go to the theatre! Did you obtain tickets for the opening night of the new play? Helena Hampshire and Reginald Miller are a big attraction to us both.”

“Ah.” Denzil bowed his apology. “I’m afraid I did not. The intelligence we have is of an attack on you at the theatre. And the best date we have is today. Until we know more, it would be extremely unwise for either you or the prince to attend.”

The princess’s face fell. “But who could hurt me in a theatre full of people? The perpetrator would be bound to be caught. This intelligence of yours seems terribly vague. Where does it come from?”

“From documents sent directly to and from your brother Prince Karl,” Linfield said. “There is no longer any doubt about that.”

The princess sighed. “Then he does not negotiate in good faith. Why do I always fall for his lies?”

“Because he is your brother and you want to believe the best of him. I’m afraid in his case there is no best.”

For a moment, her expression was distant and sad, then she pulled herself together. “But you are certain about the date for this supposed attempt upon my life?”

“No, not certain, Your Highness, but it is the latest word we have.”

“Then we are safe tonight if Karl does not come until next week.”

“He says he comes next week,” Denzil corrected her. “And in any case, I’m sure he would rather be some distance away, were anything to happen, so that no blame attaches to him.”

“Then I am safe nowhere,” she said restlessly.

“Not entirely true, Highness. We know it is the theatre—the place names are disguised, but easily recognizable in any language, when one knows what to look for. I will go myself tonight and see what I can discover among the visiting players and theatre staff.”

The princess tapped her foot. “We are bored, Lord Linfield. My husband is worse than bored.”

“I believe the prince enjoys a flutter, Your Highness. There is a gaming club tonight here in the hotel. Security is always high, and I believe he will enjoy it. I shall report to you again in the morning.”

Exactly what he would report was, of course, another matter. It all depended on tonight, on Delilah’s understanding and cooperation. For him, it would be unspeakable relief to tell her everything, to receive her forgiveness and her help.

Returning to the sitting room he shared with Elaine, he found his sister with Antonia.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” he teased Antonia. “I thought you would have fled to Black Hill.” The wedding banns had been called at church yesterday, and Antonia had spent the rest of the day with the Vales. Denzil had found himself ridiculously jealous because he wanted to be there too, with Delilah.

Antonia smiled, all the underlying sadness of years, and the tension of the last couple of weeks, entirely vanished. Julius Vale really was a lucky fellow—almost as lucky as Denzil hoped to be by the end of the day.

“Ah well,” Elaine said. “In effect, Black Hill is coming to us. Sir Julius, Miss Vale, and Miss Lucy will join us for tea. You will be here, Denzil, will you not?”

“Try to keep me away.”

Elaine peered at him as though picking up the sincerity of his apparently flippant response. She was a very perceptive sister, and he was very glad she seemed to like Delilah.

“I suppose you are going to this horrid gaming club in the hotel this evening,” Elaine said with a sniff. “Apparently, all sorts of riffraff are admitted, although the manager assures me staying guests will be perfectly safe and the gamblers kept strictly to the back hall.”

“There will be more than the hoi polloi and card sharps,” Denzil said. “Braithwaite will be there, along with Lord Wickenden, Daxton, Bernard Muir. I might look in later on in the evening, but I shall be at the theatre first.”

“Without us?” Elaine said, then threw up her hands, adding hastily, “No, don’t tell me—I don’t want to know.”

“It is a very respectable theatre party to which I have been invited.”

Antonia laughed. “While you yourself, ma’am, never go anywhere without Lord Linfield, do you? I’ll just go and order tea, shall I?”

As soon as she had closed the door behind her, Elaine said, “You are up to something.”

“I am not. Merely, I am escorting Miss Vale to the theatre.”

Elaine blinked. “Then Julius or one of the other siblings is going too?”

“No, it will be just Miss Vale and myself.”

Elaine frowned. “Is that wise? Blackhaven is a small town. There will be talk. In London, there would be talk!”

“Miss Vale is convinced she is of such mature years that such conventions do not apply to her.”

She gazed at him in some consternation. “And you are in agreement? Denzil, she is several years younger than I, and you have always insisted I take a female companion while junketing about the world with you, who are my brother! Do you not owe Miss Vale at least the same consideration?”

“In this particular case, there is no cause for concern.”

Her eyes widened. “Denzil! You do not mean because of her birth!”

He scowled. “Of course I do not.”

“Then I presume Sir Julius is happy about this excursion?”

“I have not discussed it with him. Miss Vale did not wish it. She is of an independent spirit.” He frowned. “Don’t look at me like that. I have every respect for the lady and care nothing for her irregular birth. I would never harm her.”

“I see.” And perhaps she did, for she sat back in her chair, a fleeting smile visible on her lips.

Denzil, feeling heat rise traitorously to his face, turned and went to his desk, shuffling papers as though looking for something in particular. Delilah, Delilah…

“I like her,” Elaine pronounced.

*

It was not quite the tea party Denzil had planned, where detaching Delilah from the crowd should have been simple. Lucy Vale was late in arriving, but the three slightly older women were natural friends, while Edward had clearly attached himself to Sir Julius, leaving Denzil unexpectedly hurt.

For nearly two years he had been the most constant adult male in Edward’s young life, and he had grown fond of the boy, taking him on occasional excursions when he had the time, and even giving him odd lessons in Latin or whatever else occurred. Edward liked Denzil, but clearly he did not compare with the heroic Captain Vale.

Which was as it should be. But Denzil would miss the boy. And Antonia. He spared a thought for Elaine, whose friend Antonia had become.

Elaine’s future had been on his mind even before they came to Blackhaven. He sensed her unspoken yearning for a more settled home than he had provided over the last ten years, but the companion he had vaguely imagined being with her, in whatever home she chose, was about to marry and leave her. And Denzil…

His sister would always have a home, with him or apart from him, whichever she wished. But when this irritating Hazburg business was dealt with, they must talk seriously, for Denzil’s own status, his whole life, was about to change.

As the conversation flowed around him, amusing and friendly, he gazed at Delilah, who was smiling at Edward while she set her teacup in its saucer and answered some of his nonsense. Denzil’s heart swelled, not just with acknowledged love, but a recognition of the loneliness within himself that she smoothed away. It was as if he had missed her forever, loved her forever, and now everything he did, in his own service, or in that of his country or his family, had a new purpose—to be worthy of this sweet, big-hearted lady, so fiercely loyal and passionate. He yearned for her to be truly happy, to be the one to make her so…

She glanced up suddenly and caught his steady gaze. He didn’t look away. He wasn’t sure he could, even when color seeped into her cheeks.

“Denzil?” Elaine said, and he realized from her voice that it was not the first time she had said his name.

Dragging his gaze back to his sister, he said, “Sorry. I was miles away, woolgathering.”

Where he wanted to be was alone with Delilah. He had so much to tell her, so much to learn about her, and over everything hung this Hazburg business. He needed to confess and clear the air before anything else. And yet his sister and friends seemed to conspire to keep them apart.

“Where on earth is Lucy?” Sir Julius demanded of Delilah as tea came to a close. “She should have met us here before this. I apologize for her rudeness, Miss Talbot.”

“Scatterbrained is not rude,” Elaine said. “I know it was unintentional.”

“She has a friend staying at the hotel,” Delilah said, rising to her feet. “A Miss Poole. I’ll see if she is there.”

“No need,” Sir Julius said with a hint of grimness. “I have a better idea where she might be. You take the carriage home, Delly, and Lucy and I will follow in a hackney—when I find her!”

“No, I shall stay on in Blackhaven for the evening,” Delilah said calmly. “You take the carriage, Julius. And Jules? She might be upset, but she is not foolish.”

Sir Julius hesitated, clearly torn between his sisters’ needs.

“I will make sure Miss Vale returns home safely,” Denzil said.

Sir Julius met his gaze with his one fierce eye, then nodded curtly and departed with no more than a bow to Elaine and a kiss to Antonia’s hand.

After which, Elaine blithely sent Denzil away. “I know you have work to do, and Miss Vale and I have matters to discuss.”

Denzil, who felt more like stamping his foot, actually laughed, recognizing there would be no time alone until the theatre. But he was a seasoned diplomat, not the impatient schoolboy he seemed to have turned into.

He dined early with Elaine, Antonia, and Delilah in the sitting room. By this time Delilah had changed into evening dress and looked both beautiful and subtly magnificent. Every nerve in his body screamed its awareness.

And yet there was a simple pleasure in it, too. A casual intimacy that drew her into his family as if she fitted there perfectly.

She showed no embarrassment, no consciousness of impropriety as she thanked Elaine for her hospitality and bade a cheerful goodnight to Antonia and Edward. And then he had the pleasure of walking with her on his arm. Alone at last.

But the walk to the theatre was too short to say all he needed to, the streets too busy to explain what he had done and why.

In the foyer of Blackhaven’s little theatre, he recognized several people, including Dr. and Mrs. Lampton, Mrs. Match and her daughter, and, in one noisy corner, young Mr. Match with a few other young bucks, clearly already three sheets to the wind.

“Why, Lord Linfield, what a delightful surprise,” Mrs. Match exclaimed as Denzil and Delilah made their way to the staircase.

Courtesy forced them to stop. “Ma’am. Miss Match.” Denzil bowed. Miss Match gazed up at him with her somewhat pitiable mix of hope and embarrassment, barely remembering to curtsey, though she did, after a nudge from her mother, extend her hand, which Denzil politely took with another bow.

However, from the corner of his eye, he saw Mrs. Match’s flash of outrage. Before he could even begin to introduce Delilah, the matron seized her daughter by the arm as though to protect her.

“My lord,” she said glacially, and walked off, dragging her bewildered offspring with her.

Denzil was not slow in social situations, but for an instant this rude behavior mystified him, until he turned his amused gaze upon Delilah to share the joke. And understood with a sickening jolt.

Mrs. Match had basically refused to be introduced, hurrying her daughter away before she could be contaminated by Delilah’s presence. His sudden fury must have shown in his face, for Delilah smiled ruefully. Her color had risen a little, but her expression was resigned, and that angered him even more.

“Ignore it,” she said lightly. “I do. Papa said it betrayed their lack of breeding, not mine, and he has a point. But if you would prefer to leave…”

“I would not,” Denzil said, controlling his outrage for her sake.

Dr. and Mrs. Lampton met them at the stairs, their natural, friendly greetings like a balm to Mrs. Match’s nastiness.

“I thought Mrs. Harris was coming tonight,” Mrs. Lampton said as they mounted the stairs together. “But I don’t see her.”

“I believe she decided to attend on a different evening instead,” Denzil replied. “Mr. Harris had a notion to go to the gaming club.”

“I expect she could do with the restful evening,” Mrs. Lampton said. “Our box is this way. Would you care to join us at the interval?”

Denzil found their reserved box, where they discovered a letter on one of the seats addressed to Miss Vale.

“It’s from my mother,” Delilah said, picking it up. When they were comfortably seated, she read the note. “She asks me to call on her after the show. Backstage. I shall see her another time.”

But this was just what Denzil needed—a view behind the stage, of the actors and the staff. “I should be charmed to meet your mother again.”

Delilah regarded him doubtfully.

He smiled. “Truly.”

“I have had little time to see her,” Delilah admitted. “Life seems to have been so busy, but she did ask for my help…”

He could not help the sickening jolt of his stomach. “Help in what?”

“A personal matter,” Delilah said uncomfortably. “For one thing, she is a little upset that the leading role went to Elise Manners and not to her. She feels it as an insult.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, only the part she was prepared to tell him. Oh yes, decidedly, he needed to go behind the stage with her. The cerebral part of him was looking for information. But all of him was concerned for her, for her feelings and for her safety. And he made an interesting discovery.

“You love your mother. You would do anything for her.”

She flushed, more brightly than when Mrs. Match had cut her. “I believe it is a normal emotion. In my case, of course, I barely know her.” She cast him a quick, almost-embarrassed glance. “In my loneliest moments, I make believe that, in her own way, she loves me too.”

He reached out and took her hand from her lap, as touched by her trust as by this insight into her semi-motherless past. “I did not know my mother at all. She died shortly after my birth. I would give anything to have known her.”

“Then you understand why I will never cast her off, as my stepmothers frequently urged me to do.”

“It would not be in your nature. Or mine. But Delly…” Her eyes lit up at his use of her name, and his heart melted all over again. “You will let me help you? You and your mother?”

“Of course,” she said breathlessly, and then the curtain went up on a brightly lit stage and he released her hand to watch the display of juggling and then dancing that comprised the first part of the evening.