“Intelligence, humor, good-natured robustness,” Lucy responded.
Delilah fanned herself again and managed to hit herself in the nose, making her blink. “Robustness is a nice way of saying I’m loud. And I just hit myself with my own fan. I’m the opposite of graceful.”
“No, robustness is not a nice way of saying you’re loud,” Lucy replied. “And if you hit yourself with your fan again, you must not mention it. Pretend as if nothing happened.”
Good advice.
“Besides,” Lucy continued, “Lady Emmaline may be beautiful, but she doesn’t have your pluck. And pluck counts for a great deal in this world, dear.”
“I agree,” Thomas declared loyally.
Delilah snapped her fan shut and shoved it into her reticule. Better not to have the thing at all than worry about slapping herself with it while addressing Branville. “I hope you’re right because pluck is about all I have in my favor at the moment.”
“Pluck and a large dowry, dear,” Lucy replied with a wink. “And that never hurts.”
A footman walked past carrying a tray of champagne flutes. Lucy took one and Thomas took two. He handed one to Delilah.
“What’s this for?” she asked, blinking at him.
“To drink, of course,” he replied. “And calm your nerves.”
She squinted at him. “How can you tell that I’m nervous?”
“I’ve seen you do many things before, but hitting yourself in the nose with your fan isn’t one of them.”
Delilah whimpered and took a long, fortifying sip from the flute. “I’m going to make a complete fool of myself, aren’t I?”
“Not at all,” Lucy replied. “Though it may be a good idea to finish the glass of champagne, dear, before I introduce you.”
Thomas turned to look about the room. “Where is Branville?”
“He’s over there.” Lucy pointed with her fan once again. “He’s been surrounded by young ladies and their mamas all evening. I’ve been waiting for a break in the crowd.”
“Yes, well, don’t wait too long. One of those young ladies and their mamas might cart him off right under your nose,” Thomas said, grinning.
Delilah didn’t look at him. Instead, she concentrated on draining her glass. “Shut up,” she told him belatedly, pressing her empty glass against his shirtfront. “I am attempting to become engaged.”
Lucy snapped her fan shut and lifted her skirts. “I’m afraid Thomas is right, dear. We might as well go make our introductions. The crowd around Branville is not likely to thin.”
“Wait,” Delilah said, stopping, nearly in a panic. “My mind has gone blank. What should I speak to him about?”
“How about the play?” Thomas gamely offered.
“Oh, yes,” Lucy interjected, a twinkle in her eye, “better yet, let’s invite him to join us. He can play Hermia’s father. We still haven’t filled that role. What better way to keep you in his company for the remainder of the Season? What an excellent idea, Thomas. Thank you. Let’s go, dear.”
Feeling a slight surge of courage due to the lovely glassof champagne, Delilah also lifted her skirts. She glanced at Thomas. “Wish me luck.”
Thomas shook his head as he watched Delilah follow Lucy into the crowd. The Duke of Branville did indeed have a large group of women hovering around him. Half were lovely young ladies who’d recently made their debuts, and the other half were their obviously hopeful mamas.
Branville had made his intentions clear that he was looking for a bride this Season. If Thomas had made a similar declaration, no doubt he’d be surrounded by ladies and their mamas as well. Was that what it would take to get Delilah to notice him as more than a friend? He shuddered. Encouraging a crowd of marriage-minded misses was hardly something he relished. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. He’d briefly entertained the idea of spending time with Lady Emmaline. After all, doing so also might serve to make Delilah look twice at him. But he discarded that notion for three reasons. First, it didn’t sit well with him to flirt with a woman he had no intention of courting. Second, if he occupied Lady Emmaline’s time, she wouldn’t be there to compete with Delilah for Branville. Third, and perhaps the most unsettling, Delilah had seemed nothing but pleased by the notion of Thomas distracting her rival while she moved in on Branville, so it hardly stood to make her jealous.
Thomas glanced across the crowded ballroom. He could kick himself for bringing up the play. Now Lucy intended to invite Branville to join them. Thomas’s gaze fell on Lady Emmaline. He had to admit, she did look as if she was probably accomplished in all of the things Delilah had mentioned earlier. She was indeed tall, blond, and beautiful, but she didn’t have a hint of a smileon her face, he noted with disappointment. Delilah, on the other hand, possessed an infectious love of life. Being in a room with Delilah was like sucking down a mouthful of champagne. She was bubbly and delightful, and she always had a kind word for everyone and a laugh on her lips. Lady Emmaline looked… disapproving. Humorless. No doubt she would be perfect for Branville.
Thomas handed his half-finished champagne glass to the next footman who passed by, and took a deep breath. He needed to prove his eligibility tonight. He might as well get started. In the meantime, he intended to do whatever he could to push Emmaline and Branville together.
CHAPTER NINE
“Your Grace,” Lucy exclaimed as she and Delilah made their way into the center of the Duke of Branville’s social set. Delilah practically had to elbow the young ladies out of the way to get anywhere near the man. She could kick herself for the hundredth time for promising her Mother she would secure an offer fromthe most popular bachelor of the Season. But there was no use for further recriminations at the moment. She’d made up her mind, and she was nothing if not determined.
