The Scandalous Adventures of the Sister of the Bride (28 page)

“I knew you would come around.” Beryl nodded smugly. “And aside from this one difficulty,
I think it’s a brilliant plan.”

“How delightful.” A familiar voice rang from the doorway. “I do so love it when one
of you has come up with a brilliant plan.”

“Mother!” Delilah jumped to her feet and greeted her mother.

The small parlor could barely contain the flurry of embraces and choruses of greetings.

“Travel must agree with you. You look wonderful!”

“Is Father with you? You haven’t misplaced him again, have you?”

“What did you like best?”

“We have missed you!”

Lord and Lady Briston had been traveling since early spring and aside from an occasional
letter—Mother had always been dreadful at keeping up with correspondence—Delilah wasn’t
certain at any given moment exactly where her wandering parents were on the map. Still,
they were wandering together and there was much to be said for that.

“I can’t tell you how good it is to be home.” Mother settled in the chair Beryl had
vacated for her. “Although I do find travel most stimulating. And let me say, there
is nothing to bring a couple closer together than having to negotiate the deserts
of Egypt sharing a camel or being forced to huddle together for warmth awaiting repairs
on a sled somewhere in the Swiss Alps.” She nodded at the cups on the table and Delilah
obediently filled one for her.

Somewhere in the midst of greeting their returning parent, a nearly unnoticed footman
had slipped in and added cups and another plate of sandwiches to the tray. It was
good to have the servants back. Delilah vowed when she could rehire her staff, it
would be at higher wages. There was nothing like being without servants to make one
appreciate their worth.

“I had no idea extensive travel could be so enlightening,” Mother continued. “Why,
I feel much more intelligent now than when I left. But I must admit, there were times
when I did long to understand what people were trying to say to me.” She sighed. “It
does seem rather odd that not everyone in the world speaks English. You would think,
given the vast expanse of the empire, everyone would have mastered English by now.
Still . . .” She beamed at the younger women. “All part and parcel of the adventure
I would say.”

Delilah smiled weakly.

“Oh, Camille dear.” Mother turned to Camille. “We ran into Victor in London yesterday
and it was quite awkward when the subject of your wedding came up. I gather you did
not invite him?”

Camille’s brows drew together in confusion. “Victor who?”

“Surely you don’t mean Cousin Victor?” Beryl stared.

“Cousin Victor?” Teddy said in an aside to Delilah.

“Lord Charborough,” Delilah said quietly. “He’s a relation on my mother’s side but
so distant no one has any idea how we’re related.”

Camille frowned. “I can’t even recall the last time I saw him.”

“Neither could I. I feel quite badly about that.” Mother shook her head. “I assured
him his invitation must have gone astray. So . . .” She paused. “We brought him with
us.”

“You didn’t.” Camille stared although she shouldn’t have been surprised. Mother had
long had a tendency to collect strays, usually minor European royalty who had lost
home or country. That she had now brought home a distant relative was veering perilously
close to something a normal person might do.

“I most certainly did,” Mother said in a no-nonsense tone. “It is my house, after
all.”

“Yes, of course.” Camille heaved a resigned sigh. “Very well.”

“The poor dear no longer has two shillings to rub together, thanks to his wastrel
of a father and the fact that he pours whatever funds he manages to acquire into that
estate of his. It’s not easy supporting a crumbling castle, you know. Although I don’t
believe his financial difficulty is common knowledge.”

“It’s not a well-kept secret,” Beryl said wryly.

“The best thing for the poor boy would be to find a wife with excellent connections
and a sizable dowry. I thought, as there will be any number of suitable matches here
for the wedding, this might be a good opportunity for him,” Mother said. “Besides,
one can always use another unattached gentleman about. Especially one as dashing as
Victor. My goodness, he did turn out to be a handsome devil.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Beryl said thoughtfully and glanced at Delilah. “One might say
he is very nearly perfect.”

“Perhaps,” Delilah said slowly. “But you just said everyone knows he has no money.”

Teddy shook her head. “Sam wouldn’t know that.” “Who is Sam?” Mother asked, eyes wide
with confusion.

“An American friend of Grayson’s, Mother,” Camille said. “Grayson probably isn’t aware
of Victor’s financial state either given that he’s been out of the country for so
many years.”

“Still, it’s one thing to throw oneself at a man who has a fortune and quite another
to overtly pursue one who needs money.” Teddy shook her head. “You wouldn’t want to
lead the poor man on and disappoint him.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t considered that.” Delilah sighed. “That would be wrong.”

“You could certainly ask him to go along with you.” Camille shrugged. “As a favor,
one distant cousin to another.”

“Or you could pay him,” Beryl said. “I daresay, given his financial straits he would
be more than willing to play the role of perfect prospect.”

“He would never take money for doing a favor for a relative, no matter how distant.
He still has pride, after all. And I’m confident he will help without any compensation
at all.” Mother thought for a moment. “But you might offer him a loan, which would
certainly encourage his cooperation. One never knows when it might come in handy to
have a handsome gentleman indebted to you,” she said to Teddy.

Teddy nodded, her eyes wide. But then Teddy had always found Lady Briston’s views
on life a little shocking and most amusing.

“That’s that then.” Delilah shook her head. “I have nothing to offer him at the moment.
My funds are still unavailable and I doubt that problem will be completely resolved
in the next few days.”

“I can and I will.” Beryl smiled at her younger sister. “And I’d be happy to do so.”

“As would I,” Camille added.

“Would you?” Beryl’s brow rose. “And how would you explain that to Sam’s dear friend,
your future husband, should he find out?”

“We shall simply have to make certain he doesn’t find out,” Camille said. “I know
I can keep a secret.”

“As can I. But before I can keep a secret, someone is going to have to reveal said
secret to me.” Mother’s gaze slid from one sister to the next. “I have absolutely
no idea what we are talking about, although an educated guess would indicate this
has to do with the previously mentioned plan.”

“Exactly.” Beryl beamed. “And a brilliant plan at that.”

“So you said. Very well then.” Mother took a sip of tea then looked at her daughters
expectantly. “Explain it to me.”

“I will,” Delilah said quickly. Far better for her to provide a somewhat abbreviated
version of events thus far than for one of her sisters to attempt it. God knows what
they might say inadvertently. Besides, there was no need for her mother to know every
detail. “It all has to do with Mr. Russell, Samuel. . . .”

Delilah briefly explained nearly everything. That she and Sam did not suit, how a
match between them would be disastrous and really, it was best for all concerned if
they showed Sam how very wrong Delilah was for him. She did not feel it necessary
to mention their shared adventures but, as Beryl had pointed out earlier, since it
did seem to be at the crux of everything, Delilah did confess her feelings for Phillip
and what a dreadful mistake that had been.

“My, my, you have been busy.” Mother considered her youngest daughter for a long moment.
“My poor dear girl. There is nothing worse in this world than loving someone who does
not love you back.”

“Yes, well . . .” Delilah shrugged. “That’s in the past.”

“Oh, come now, dear,” Mother said. “It may be over but it certainly isn’t in the past.
Why, the risk of having your heart broken again is precisely why you don’t want to
entrust it to this American.”

“And because we are wrong for each other,” Delilah said. “It cannot end well.”

“It can but the chances are exceptionally slim. Oh certainly, on occasion, one hears
of a successful match in which the parties involved are obviously wrong for one another—a
duke marrying a parlor maid and that sort of thing.” Mother shrugged as if the very
idea was too absurd to consider. “But usually such matches are doomed to failure.
No.” She nodded. “I think you’re quite wise to put an end to this. Besides, making
such an arrangement work would require a great deal of effort not to mention staggering
compromise and that’s really not a concept you embrace.”

Delilah stared at her mother. “Are you saying I’m stubborn?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Mother smiled. “I’ve never been anything less than
honest with you or your sisters—”

“Except for that little matter about saying Father was dead when he wasn’t,” Beryl
said under her breath.

Mother continued without pause. “And I don’t intend to start now. So yes dear, you
are stubborn. Beyond that, you have always been far too concerned with propriety and
what you should do or who you should be for that matter. You have spent your entire
life thus far doing exactly what you were expected to do and never treading from the
path of proper behavior.”

Delilah’s eyes narrowed. “Goodness, Mother, I’m not certain if that was a compliment
or a criticism.”

“You are my youngest girl, my dear darling daughter.” Mother smiled. “You’ve never
given me a moment of trouble or so much as a single sleepless night. You have never
created scandal or been the subject of gossip.” She cast a pointed glance at Camille
and Beryl then returned her attention to Delilah. “You are kind and generous, you
have a good heart, you’re clever and amusing and you’re exceptionally lovely as well.
Indeed, you look very much like I did at your age.”

Someone snorted. Mother ignored it. “You made the very best of an awkward situation
with Phillip. I long suspected something was awry but I do so hate to interfere so
I kept my doubts to myself. I assumed you would tell me if you needed me.”

Delilah nodded although she’d never considered confiding in her mother. It was hard
to admit to anyone, let alone your mother, that your marriage was not what you wished
it to be.

“I have always been proud of you and I always will be.”

Delilah’s throat tightened and she stared at her mother.

“You need to do what you think is right for you. Nothing and no one else really matters.”
Mother reached over and took her hand. “You have my complete and total support in
however you want to handle this American. Although . . .” Amusement twinkled in her
eyes. “If you wished to shoot the man, I do think that would be best left to your
father.”

“I don’t.” Delilah choked back a sob. “Thank you, Mother.”

“Now that we have that settled I do have a another question.” Mother’s gaze narrowed.
“What on earth did you mean when you said your funds were unavailable?”

Never in his life had Sam been at a loss over how to solve a dilemma. He stood outside
the carriage house and stared unseeing off into the distance. Certainly, whatever
problem he’d been faced with might be difficult, it might even appear impossible and
yes, on occasion his solutions had been complete and utter failures but that was different.
That was business. This was personal.

“Very well then,” Gray said behind him. “I surrender.”

“What do you mean, you surrender?” Sam turned toward his friend.

It was already late afternoon, a full day past the motorwagon’s accident. He and Gray
had practically taken up residence with Jim at the carriage house, only returning
to the manor last night to sleep. They returned shortly after dawn this morning. All
things considered, staying away from the manor was a wise move. It was all he could
do to keep from knocking down Delilah’s door and making her see how wrong she was.
Making her admit that she did care for him and that, in spite of their differences,
they were meant to be together. Sam needed distance between himself and that temptation
but it wasn’t easy. He could well understand where Sampson went wrong.

“I mean . . .” Gray handed him a cigar. “I give up.”

Sam shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He aimed the cigar
at his friend. “And where did you get these?”

“I had William bring them down with our last meal. I have one for Jim too.” He struck
a match and lit his cigar.

“Good.” Sam lit his cigar. “He deserves it.”

“The man is brilliant. You are lucky to have him.”

“I know.” Sam paused. “If we can get this motorwagon business running, I was thinking
of offering him a new position.”

Gray puffed on his cigar. “You want him to run the new company? I wouldn’t be opposed
to that.”

“I don’t think he’d like running the whole thing. It’s not where his strength is.
He’s not much for sitting at a desk.” Sam paused. “I’d like to put him in charge of
development, that sort of thing. A position equal in importance to the head of the
company. That’s where the future lies. Benz’s motorwagon is a first step, but this
new engine of his is really the beginning and opens a world of possibilities. Jim’s
just the man to take that further.”

“I agree.” Gray nodded. “But the motorwagon isn’t what I was referring to when I said
I surrender.”

“Then I have no idea what you mean.”

“I mean, I have known you long enough to know when something is weighing on your mind.”

“Any number of things are weighing on my mind. There’s a lot of repair needed here.”

“Yes, and I thought that was it initially but it’s not. You’ve been distant and preoccupied
since the accident. Usually I can tell what you’re thinking, but I admit you have
me stymied so I give up.” Gray studied him closely. “Now, I’m asking. What is wrong
with you?”

Sam considered the question, not that he needed to. What was wrong with him could
be summed up in one word: Delilah. “It appears I may have fallen in love.”