“But, Delilah,” said Juliet with a gleam of mischief, “Ravensworth likely wouldn’t have known you’d returned early from Switzerland.”
Oh, Juliet was good, Delilah would give her that. Of course, Juliet saw all. Julietknew. In fact, it was possible that Juliet had known before Delilah had.
Right.
“Aha, here we have it!” Amelia exclaimed, holding up a white square of paper. “It’s Ravensworth’s seal.” Her brow knitted for the briefest instant. “It’s thicker than the one Tristan and I received.”
“Perhaps it isn’t an invitation at all,” said Delilah, morosely. Though it was all she could do not to snatch the missive from Amelia’s hand and rip it open. “Perhaps he’s telling me to stay away.”
All eyes landed on Delilah. If she wasn’t very mistaken, the air had ripened with disbelief. “What?”
Archie snorted.
Rory shook his head with that lopsided smile of his.
Amelia simply said, “Oh, Delilah.”
Tristan looked entirely uninterested in the entire business, his gaze decidedly fixed on the curve of his wife’s neck.
And Juliet simply stared at Delilah…staredintoher with those emerald witch’s eyes of hers.
They all seemed to see something that she was missing entirely. Or…
Possibly…maybe she saw something, too…
“Right,” said Archie, shooting to his feet. “Before we go, I must get into my wife’s good graces.”
“Oh?” said Amelia. “What have you done now?”
How Delilah envied Amelia’s innocence.
“It isn’t what I’ve yet done, but what I intend to do within the next five or so minutes,” he said with a wicked smile.
Valentina’s cheeks were twin patches of scarlet—a sure-to-be regular experience if one chose Archie for a life partner.
“What can you possibly mean by—”
Delilah held up a hand, staying the rest of the question in Amelia’s mouth. “You don’t want to know. Trust me.”
After her siblings had finally cleared out, Delilah wandered restlessly about, eventually meandering her way to the correspondence desk when she could take the suspense no longer. She tapped her forefinger against the missive from Sebastian. It simply lay there, face up, waiting for her to open it.
Her first instinct was to resist. But…hadn’t it been proven that perhaps her first instincts weren’t her best?
Right.
She picked it up and tore open the seal, finding not an invitation at all, but an official-looking document. She scanned the paper, her eyes picking out one of every twenty or so words. Words likespecialandlicenseandunion.
Her hands grew slack, and the document fell onto the desk. She planted a palm onto the inlaid birch and walnut surface for support as she slid onto a chair. She lifted the paper again and began reading it closely, the words having a devil of a time sinking into her brain.
His Grace Sebastian Crewe, the Duke of Ravensworth.
That was one bundle of words.
Lady Delilah Windermere.
That was another.
Her name…united with his.
