“Have you seen our pilot?” Bertie continued. “I asked him to stay in the garden during the meeting.”
This was about to get awkward. Finn remained motionless,hoping they would head back inside to continue the conversation. Then he could figure out a way to escape the garden, and Delia would never be the wiser.
“There’s nobody out here,” Delia said.
“Are you sure?” Bertie asked. “He’s still using crutches, so he can’t have gone very far.”
There was no avoiding it. Finn clamped the cigar between his teeth so he could use both hands to push himself into a sitting position. The healthy leg was easy to swing to the ground, but he needed both hands to position the other.
A rapid pattering of footsteps and an audible female gasp sounded as three people rounded the overgrown shrubbery to see him on the bench, caught in the act. It was going to hurt, but he hoisted himself into a standing position, all his weight on the good leg as he shouldered the pair of crutches.
“Hello, Delia,” he said, smiling as best he could with a cigar clamped between his teeth.
He wished she didn’t look so horrified to see him, but she had cause. The roundness of youth had faded from her face, giving her a more refined look. Her raven-black hair was swept atop her head, and her blue eyes held cold fury. Bertie seemed mildly amused while the other man looked outraged.
Yeah, the guy was too old for her. Wesley was right, Delia flat-out wrong. These two were a mismatch for sure.
Bertie tried to smooth things over. “Please, Finn, don’t hurt yourself. I’d like to introduce you to Delia Byrne, the lady who will be assisting you in our fundraising campaign.”
“We’ve already met, though it was a long time ago,” he said, extending a hand. “Nice to see you again, Delia.”
Delia refused his hand. “Can’t you at least remove the cigar from your mouth before speaking?”
The old Delia looked at him with hero worship, while this one sounded like a sour-tempered schoolmarm. Nevertheless, she had good cause to resent him. He removed the cigar from his lips andsaid, “I apologize for hiding out back here. I wasn’t sure what was the right thing to do.”
“How about simply announcing your presence?” Wesley said. “Or does doing the right thing not come easily?”
Finn refused to look at the old guy who had captured Delia’s heart. Instead, he gave a self-deprecating smile. “If there’s one thing I’ve always been good at, it’s making a spectacle of myself. Honestly, Dee, I’m sorry. I never intended to overhear, and you’ve got cause to be mad. You can add it to the tally I’m running up with you.”
He winked at her. He shouldn’t have, but the old habit just reappeared, reminding him of all the years he’d flashed a wink at her across the classroom, in the orphanage dining room, or anytime he wanted to comfort her when the nuns made privacy all but impossible.
Wesley caught the wink and stiffened. “I may have been too hasty,” he said. “Delia, you don’t have to do this. Reginald can handle the tasks Bertie just outlined, and you can take over the accounting duties at the office.”
“So everything will go back to the status quo?” Delia asked, her chin jutted out in a challenging pose.
“Yes, we will continue exactly like before.”
Her pretty blue eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, then swiveled her attention back to Bertie. “I will be honored to assist Lieutenant Delaney however he needs.”
“Excellent!” Bertie said. “Why don’t we return to the drawing room and toast our new venture.”
It sounded good to Finn, but Delia had other ideas. “First, I’d like a moment alone with Lieutenant Delaney. We will join you inside shortly.”
11
The old guy Delia fancied pierced Finn with an acidic look that could peel paint before he left to follow Bertie inside, and Finn instinctively bristled. It had been a long time since he’d been on the receiving end of that kind of contempt from a complete stranger, and it stung.
Once they were alone, he tried to calm down as he turned his attention back to Delia. “Dee, I’m sorry for not speaking up right away. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“How much of my personal conversation did you overhear?” Her voice was frosty, her expression just as cold.
“All of it,” he said.
“Fine,” she bit out. “We need never discuss it again.Ever.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he saluted her. His impetuous act ten years ago had cost him Delia’s love, but he could still regain her respect. They’d both come a million miles from flying kites on the roof of the orphanage. They ought to be proud of how far they’d come, not sit here trading barbs with each other.
“You look great, by the way,” he said with a nod to her niftyclothes and the sleek leather case. “I’ll bet that working at a law firm pays a lot better than gutting fish, am I right?”
