Thomas came strolling up to them through the throngs of partygoers with his particular, easy stride. “Win at what?”
Delilah frowned at him. How had he managed to decipher their conversation from so far a distance?
Lucy eyed him up and down. “Don’t you look handsome this evening.”
Delilah glanced at Thomas. He was always well put together: tall, broad-shouldered, bright blue eyes, black hair, a perfect nose, high cheekbones, and a smile always resting on his lips. He was the precise image of a Society bachelor. Always talking, smiling, and laughing, with a drink in his hand—a drink he rarely finished—but never allowing any one lady to get too close. He would take the coat from his back to give to someone in need, whether pauper or prince. He was a good man, her friend. Quite a good one, indeed.
She waved the fan across her inexplicably warm cheeks. She’d been thinking of him more of late. Ever since Lucy had announced her intention to distract Lady Emmaline by offering Thomas as an alternative, Delilah couldn’t seem tostopthinking of him. It was quite distracting, actually.He’s a rich, handsome duke too, Lucy had said. Somehow in that moment, Delilah had realized that Lucy was right. Thomas, for all that he was her closest friend, was also a grown man—and a handsome, successful, rich one at that.
She’d tried to push away the thought. She’d tried to unthink it, but that had proved impossible. The most unsettling part, however, was the realization that the idea of Thomas with Lady Emmaline made Delilah… oh, she wasn’t entirely certain exactlywhatit made her, but whatever the feeling was, she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
She averted her gaze from his appraisal and fanned herself even more vigorously. She ought to be happy about Lucy’s plan. She should be nothing but encouraging of the match. It stood to help her win Branville, after all. Instead, she’d been uncomfortable all week, and whenever she thought about Emmaline Rochester, the petty notion to… perhaps… trip her the next time she saw her, flashed through her mind. She’d finallydecided she didn’twantThomas to distract Lady Emmaline. But how could she explain such ridiculousness to Lucy?
“You do look handsome, Thomas,” she heard herself say, but was quickly forced to hide behind her fan as a wave of heat suffused her face anew.Mon Dieu. Was she actuallyblushingbecause she’d called Thomas handsome? She’d spoken the compliment to him a hundred times before. Why was tonight any different? She shook her head. This would not do. She needed to get control of herself. Immediately.
“I try.” Thomas grinned from ear to ear as he smoothed his shirtfront with one hand.
“You tied your cravat yourself again, didn’t you?” Delilah asked, shaking her head.
He shrugged. “Does it matter?”
Delilah bit back a smile. “Please allow me to have Cousin Rafe’s valet come teach Will a few things. You’ll both be better off.”
Thomas frowned. “Will’s fine just as he is.”
Delilah shook her head again. That was something she’d always admired in Thomas. The man was exceptionally loyal. And thoughtful. He’d given his good friend Will the position as valet and didn’t give a whit if his own appearance suffered as a result. “Very well, but don’t cry to me when he picks the wrong coat for your appearance at court.”
Thomas’s brows shot up. “When am I making an appearance at court?”
“When you choose a wife, of course.” Delilah turned to Lucy. “Lucy, didn’t I tell you? Thomas has declared interest in finding a bride… finally.”
“I did no such thing,” Thomas stated baldly. “I merely admitted that I would need to find a brideeventually.”
“That is excellent news,” Lucy replied, “because we need you to distract Lady Emmaline. And speaking of Lady Emmaline, there she is.” Lucy surreptitiously pointed her fan toward the entrance where Lady Emmaline and her mother had appeared.
Delilah’s stomach dropped. This was it. It was time for Lucy to introduce her to the Duke of Branville, and for Thomas to try his hand at distracting Lady Emmaline. For some reason, Delilah wasn’t looking forward to either thing. She glanced over at the gorgeous blonde and muttered to herself, “She’s everything I’m not.”
“Meaning?” Thomas prompted.
Delilah scowled. “Tall, blond, beautiful, accomplished.”
“You may not be tall or blond,” Lucy conceded, “but you are beautiful and accomplished.”
Delilah eyed her friend. “No, I’m not. I’m cute, at best, and decidedly unaccomplished.”
“It depends on what you consider an accomplishment,” Thomas said with a snort of laughter.
“You know precisely what I mean,” Delilah retorted. “I cannot play the pianoforte unless I wish to give offense, I cannot embroider, and I certainly cannot sing.” She shuddered.
“How do you know Lady Emmaline can do any of those things?” Thomas asked.
“Look at her.” Delilah nodded in Lady Emmaline’s direction. “She just looks as if she can.”
Thomas laughed. At least she could still make her friend laugh.
“It doesn’t matter how accomplished she is,” Lucy interjected. “Remember what I said about focusing on the positive, dear. We merely need Branville to seeyourdesirable characteristics.”
“Which are?” Skepticism nearly dripped from the look Delilah gave her friend.
