“Well, it does. But I have an idea. My new maid is French. Perhaps she can help you learn more while you’re here.”
Delilah beamed at that. “Oh,j’adorethat idea. Thank you very much, Cousin Daphne. I should quite like to meet your French maid.” Then she frowned. “But it doesn’t help with the poise nor the grace.”
“Poise and grace? You think those things are important?” Daphne smiled down at her cousin.
“Of course. Look at Miss Pembrooke.” Delilah nodded into the crowd where one of the Season’s most coveted young ladies stood holding a flute of champagne in an elegant, gloved hand. “I am not elegant,” Delilah said with a sigh. “And most of my gloves are stained.”
“You have plenty of time to sort it out, Delilah. Don’t be so harsh with yourself.”
Just then, Daphne’s friends Owen and Alexandra Monroe broke away from the crowd and came over to where Daphne and Delilah were talking. A young man was with them. He looked to be about seventeen, tall and straight-backed, completely at ease, if bored, in a ballroom. He was dark haired and blue eyed and ever so handsome.
Daphne turned to greet her new guests. “Lady Alexandra! Lord Owen! So good to see you again.”
“Thank you for having us, Lady Daphne,” Lady Alexandra said. “Have you met my brother, Lord Thomas?”
“Ah yes, your brother, the Marquess of Huntfield.” Alexandra’s father was a duke and her younger brother the heir.
“That’s right.” Alexandra smiled. “He’s on leave from Oxford and I insisted on his coming with us this evening.”
The young man bowed formally to Daphne. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Daphne.”
“I do hope you’re not too bored by a stuffy oldtonball, Lord Thomas.”
“On the contrary,” he said smoothly. “I find it quite amusing. I’ve got a bet on how long it takes the middle button on Lord Hoppington’s waistcoat to burst and Lady Hammock’s turban will certainly tumble from her head before the night is through. That ought to be a sight.” There was a twinkle in his eye.
At this, Delilah let out a delighted burst of laughter. She promptly clasped her inappropriately ungloved hand over her mouth.
Daphne turned to her. There was no help for it. “Lord Thomas, may I introduce you to Lady Delilah Montebank? She shouldn’t be here as she’s yet to make her debut, but such rules don’t daunt her, I’m afraid. Allow me to apologize in advance for anything inappropriate she says.”
Delilah promptly rolled her eyes at Daphne and gave Thomas a wide grin before patting the seat next to her. “Oh, Lord Thomas. I do believe we are going to be fast friends. For I, too, have been eyeing Lord Hoppington’s button and the precarious state of Lady Hammock’s turban. If you’ve any more such delightful things to say, do come sit by me.”
Thomas grinned in return and promptly took a seat.
“Do you like tea cake?” Delilah asked.
“Who doesn’t?”
Daphne was immediately convinced the two were destined to be fast friends. She turned back to Alex and Owen and shook her head. “She’s certain to be hideously inappropriate.”
Alexandra waved a gloved hand in the air. “Thomas can be similarly inappropriate. It’s Mother’s despair that he spends more of his time gambling with stable grooms and racing his horses than preparing for the esteemed role of duke one day.”
Daphne glanced at the two young people. They were already engaged in a happy conversation, talking and laughing. Daphne would no doubt get written up in the papers tomorrow for letting her scandalous cousin into the ballroom, but she had more important things to worry about. At least Lord Thomas seemed to be keeping Delilah preoccupied. She threaded her arms through both Alexandra’s and Owen’s and walked away with them.
“There’s something I wanted to ask you both about.” She lowered her voice. “How well do either of you know my brother-in-law?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Danielle was peeking into the crowded ballroom, her backside sticking out into the corridor when Trevor jogged up to her.
“A messenger brought this to the back door just now, miss. Said to deliver it to you personally as soon as possible,” the footman said.
Danielle jumped. Then her heart dropped into her belly. The door to the ballroom closed and she was left standing in the darkened corridor, the strains of the music still floating in the air. Trevor had hurried away as quickly as he’d come. He was as busy as the rest of the staff ensuring the party was a success. It had been kind of him to take a moment to find her.
“Oh, God. Please don’t let it beMere,” she whispered to herself as her trembling hands ripped open the seal.
She unfolded the note and breathed a sigh of relief. It was from Grimaldi. And he… She continued to read, holding her breath again. He wanted her to pack her bags and meet him three streets over at midnight. Good God. That wasn’t much time. There were a few more details, not many, but clearly she was meant to abandon her pretense of being Lady Daphne’s maid. Immediately.
The momentary relief Danielle felt at realizing the note wasn’t about her mother’s health was quickly replaced with something else. Something foreign. Something that felt like… regret. She pressed the note to her chest and glanced around the corridor. It was all over? So soon? It seemed she’d only just arrived here to this happy household. She didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to never see Mrs. Huckleberry again. Didn’t want to lose Lady Daphne’s company. Didn’t want to stop her talks with Mary. And… Cade. That was the worst part. She would miss her dance at midnight with Cade.
