Delilah bit her lip. “He’s ever so handsome, and entirely charming.” And if his comment about adoring animals was true, he was probably kind, as well. That boded well. He already met at least two of the criteria on her list.
“He is, isn’t he?” Lucy said with a sigh. “And it was quite nice of him to agree to be a part of the play.”
“It was,” Delilah agreed. “I only hope he doesn’t think I’m a complete ninny for my less-than-elegant curtsy and my comment about squirrels.”
“Nonsense,” Lucy replied. “You made yourself memorable, which is important in a crowd that size. Besides,you mentioned the squirrel in French, and as you always say, everything sounds better in French.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Delilah replied, “but the squirrel comment may betoomemorable. I barely got a chance to say anything else to him.”
Lucy clucked her tongue. “Ah, ah, ah. You’re forgetting the second rule of matchmaking: Never overstay your visit. It leaves him wanting more.”
Delilah nodded. That sounded good, but she wasn’t certain Branville would want more of inelegant curtsies and inane comments about squirrels, whether spoken in French or English. Lucy was eternally confident, however, and Delilah did her best to mimic that emotion.
“Now,” Lucy continued, grabbing a flute of champagne off the tray of a passing footman and spinning in a circle. “I shall keep my eye on Branville to see if he glances at you, while you pretend as if you’ve forgotten all about him and go have fun. Dance with as many eligible gentlemen as you can.”
Delilah glanced around. Normally at such events, when forced to find a dancing partner, she looked for one man. “Where’s Thomas?” she asked, turning in a wide circle in search of her friend.
“He’s over there, dear.” Lucy motioned with her chin while lifting the champagne glass to her lips. “I’m off to find my husband. I expect to see you dancing within minutes.”
Delilah barely heard Lucy’s last words as the duchess floated off in search of Derek. Instead, Delilah’s gaze was trained on the crowd that she’d just realized Thomas was standing in the center of. Admittedly, his crowd was not the size of the Duke of Branville’s, but a crowd of any size was something new for Thomas.
Delilah stood there, dumbfounded, watching him smileand laugh in the middle of a group of ladies. She cocked her head to the side as if she were a puppy trying intently to understand something her master was saying. A flash of something that felt suspiciously, unexpectedly, and unhappily like…jealousyshot through her chest. She tried to shake it away. She would find another gentleman with whom to dance. It wouldn’t be such a chore, would it? At any rate, she refused to fight a crowd for Thomas’s time. Besides, the debutantes surrounding him were silly. They were wasting their time trying to flirt with Thomas. He’d already told her he wasn’t interested in a finding a match this Season. Hadn’t he?
She shook her head, forcing herself to look away and find another group of people to talk to. Relief flooded her when she spied Cousin Daphne and her husband, Rafe, standing near the refreshment table. Delilah lifted her skirts and was about to take off toward them when her friend Lady Rebecca Abernathy sauntered up to her.
“There you are, Delilah,” Rebecca said, a wide smile on her face. “I saw you speaking to the Duke of Branville a few minutes ago.”
Lady Rebecca was pretty, with brown hair and light green eyes and a figure most of the town’s debutantes would die for, Delilah notwithstanding. She’d always liked Rebecca.
“Yes, the duke seems quite nice,” Delilah said, eyeing Rebecca with suspicion. Why was Rebecca asking about Branville?Mon Dieu. She didn’t need anyadditionalcompetition for him.
“Handsome too,” Rebecca added, swinging her hips back and forth.
Delilah narrowed her eyes on the woman. “He’s the most eligible bachelor of the Season for a reason.”
Rebecca blinked. Then she shook her head. “TheDuke of Branville isn’t the most eligible bachelor this Season.”
Delilah frowned at her. She liked Rebecca, but the woman was obviously a few pence shy of a pound. “What do you mean? Of course he is.”
A sly smile popped to Rebecca’s full lips. “No, he’s thesecondmost eligible bachelor. Therealcatch of the Season is the Duke of Huntley.”
Delilah’s frown intensified. “The Duke of Hunt—Thomas? Are you mad? Thomas isn’t eligible. Well, to be precise, he is, but… he’s not looking for a wife this Season. I have it on thebestauthority.” But even as she said the words, she had the sinking feeling she might be wrong. Or worse, that while Thomas might not be looking for a wife, by the size of his ever-growing crowd, a wife might well be looking forhimthis Season.
Lady Rebecca smoothed a hand over her elegant dark chignon. “Nevertheless, he’s more handsome than the Duke of Branville, he’s richer than the Duke of Branville, and his family is older than the Duke of Branville’s. That makes him more eligible.”
Delilah blinked at her. Everything Lady Rebecca had said was true, but still… they were talking aboutThomas. Why was this happening? How had her perfectly ordered world become upended this Season?
“I was hoping you’d introduce me to him,” Lady Rebecca continued with a sly smile.
Delilah glanced over to where Thomas continued to hold court with a bevy of gorgeous young ladies. Something small and unhappy unfurled in her chest. What, precisely, did she like about Lady Rebecca again? “I… well… I suppose I could do that. Someday.”
Lady Rebecca’s mouth fell open as Delilah marched away from her without another word. She made her waydirectly to Thomas’s court, pushed through the small crowd, and settled herself by his side. She even found herself giving the ladies a tight smile. What was happening to her?
Thomas glanced down at her and smiled. “Delilah? There you are. How was your dance with Branville?”
Delilah scrunched up her nose. “I didn’t exactly… dance with him.” That admission hurt.
“No?” Thomas grinned. “Too popular, was he?”
