“Be careful, and return as soon as you can,” the countess said, standing, all of her weight supported by the elaborate cane in her hand.
“I’m coming.” Delia stood, realizing that every eye in the room was on her.
It didn’t matter. Margaret was her responsibility, and she wasn’t going to allow someone else to retrieve her. Besides, her sister would surely be upset to learn that the man she was supposedly in love with—her Mr. Knightley—was not the real Earl of March.
“Absolutely not.” He shook his head like it was final.
It wasn’t.
Delia marched up to him, meeting his gaze, ignoring the wing beats of pleasure in her lower abdomen. It didn’t matter how attractive she found him; nothing would ever happen between her and the real Earl of March.
Swallowing, she tried desperately not to lose herself in the dark green depth of his eyes.
“She’s my sister. I’m going.” Delia squeezed both her hands into fists, allowing the slight pain from her nails to ground her.
His jaw clenched at her declaration, and for a moment, she worried he would crack a tooth.
They stood in a silent battle of wills, no sound in the room but their deep breaths and the erratic beat of her heart in her own ears.
Delia was positive that a lesser person would’ve crumpled against his intimidating gaze, but she’d always been stronger than people perceived her to be.
“Perhaps…” The countess began taking slow deliberate steps toward them. “You can be our guest until Hunt returns with your sister.”
The armor that Delia had worn her entire life weakened slightly at the countess’s kind words. No one had ever shown her kindness. She had always been treated with civility and indifference by everyone in her life, including her parents, but not kindness.
“That is very kind of you, my lady, but Margaret does not know the earl.” Delia kept her voice level, trying not to offend the countess. “My sister won’t believe him. I’m afraid he will only confuse her more. I must go.”
She was sure the shock that the man who had dutifully won her heart was an imposter would send her sweet sister into a fit. Usually, Margaret wasn’t an overly dramatic young lady; in fact, she was quite level-headed most of the time, except when she compared a gentleman to a fictional character.
“She’s right,” Lady Helen said, coming to stand on the other side of Delia. “Her sister doesn’t know Hunt, why should she believe that he is the real earl? Like Delia, she’s not familiar with Society and wouldn’t believe that a person of color could be titled.”
Delia wanted to defend herself and her sister, but Lady Helen was indeed correct. It was true that their sheltered upbringing had made them ignorant to the ways of Society.
“We’re not that rare. There are two of us after all,” the earl said, as he turned away and walked toward the sideboard.
Of course, he would drink brandy in the morning, like any entitled gentleman.
“You understand that traveling alone with Hunt could ruin your reputation,” the countess reminded Delia.
Delia couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that came out of her. It was the second time in two days that someone had mentioned her reputation. She knew that unlike the gentleman from the previous night, the countess meant well, but really, it was preposterous.
Bastards didn’t have a reputation to preserve; everyone already thought the worst of them. How could they be anything beyond the circumstance of their birth?
Deciding not to give the countess the same answer she gave the rude gentleman the night before, Delia simply said, “Thank you for your concern, my lady, but I assure you that I am not in jeopardy of losing my reputation.”
“You understand this is not a leisurely trip,” the earl said.
Delia turned to look at him, shocked when she discovered him pouring two glasses of water. She looked from him to the water, confused. She’d assumed he was pouring himself an early brandy, not water.
Water?
“I am aware. You need not worry about me. I only wish to get to my sister before they reach Gretna Green.” Delia swallowed down her fear.
She didn’t want to admit her true fear out loud. But if Margaret felt that this Augustus was really her Mr. Knightley, then her sister could lose much more than her reputation. Her sister could very well be in jeopardy of losing her innocence.
“Very well. We leave immediately.” The earl walked back to where she stood with his mother and sister, offering her one of the glasses of water in his hand.
“He has an odd obsession with water,” Lady Helen explained, rolling her eyes at her brother.
