Thomas traced his finger along the cracked surface of the wooden table. “Partially. At some point, I may need your help. You and the other men. But you mustn’t tell the ladies.”
Moreland’s brow furrowed deeper. “What? Why not?”
“Because the women are terrible gossips, and they’ll tell Delilah.”
“A secret, eh?” Moreland took another swig from his mug. “I can tell Alex, can’t I? I don’t keep secrets from my wife.”
Thomas scratched his chin and contemplated the question for a moment. “I’ll tell her when the time’s right. Al can keep a secret. I know that.”
“Very well. I’m game. What’s the secret?” Moreland asked.
Thomas leaned back in his seat and crossed his booted feet at the ankles. “After spending all these years matchmaking her friends, Delilah is ready to take a husband.”
“She’s been Lucy’s disciple for quite a while now. From what I understand, she’s made some excellent matches too.”
The barmaid returned, and Thomas ordered a second mug of ale. He was finally ready to tell this secret. The one he’d kept all these years. “Delilah hasn’t seemed interested in making her own match. Until now.”
Moreland shrugged. “Suppose it was bound to happen eventually.”
Thomas nodded. “Yes, and her mother has demanded it. I’ve been waiting for this day. But also dreading it.”
A half-smile touched Moreland’s lips. “Worried that your friend will make the wrong match, Huntley?”
“Yes.” Thomas met his brother-in-law’s stare. “Because I want her to pick me.”
CHAPTER FIVE
That same afternoon, Delilah sat on the settee in the middle of Lucy Hunt’s drawing room. Lucy was there, of course, along with her closest friends, Cassandra and Jane. The three women sat around Delilah in a semicircle.
“Ladies,” Lucy began, settling her clasped hands into her lap, “the issue at hand is most serious. I’ve gathered you here today for what is certain to be our most important matchmaking session in years.”
“Delilah’s getting married?” Cass exclaimed, a wide, dreamlike smile on her pretty face.
Jane poked her nose out of her ever-present book and took another teacake from the plate that rested on the table in front of them. The countess was slightly plump, with dark brown hair and eyes and silver-rimmed spectacles atop her nose. She had a biting wit and was rarely without a book in one hand and a teacake in the other. “I suppose we all must succumb at some point.”
“That is not a particularly helpful comment, Janie,” Lucy replied, her lips pursed.
Jane shrugged, stuck her nose back into her book, and continued munching on her teacake.
Lucy cleared her throat. “Now, our lovely, delightful Delilah here has finally decided to focus on her own match.”
“Because Mother is at her wits’ end with me,” Delilah interjected with a nod.
“For whatever reason,” Lucy continued, her nose in the air, “our lovely, delightful Delilah here has set her sights on the most eligible bachelor of the Season.”
Cass gasped and placed hand to her breast. “The Duke of Branville!”
“One and the same,” Lucy replied, smiling at Cass.
“I thought you were going to say Huntley,” Jane interjected, not looking up from her book.
Delilah scrunched up her nose. “No. No. Branville is who I’m after. And it won’t be an easy feat. I will need all of your help.”
Jane pulled the book down low enough to eye Delilah over the top of it. “Do you love him?”
“Branville?” Delilah breathed.
“Yes, Branville,” Jane replied. “Isn’t that who we’re speaking of?”
