“He speaks French now?” Thomas said, glaring at Miss Adeline.
“Regrettably, he speaks better French than I do,” Delilah pointed out dryly.
Thomas laughed.
Danielle crossed to them and generously took the parrot from Delilah. “It’s not so ridiculous, you know?”
“What do you mean?” Delilah asked.
“Being charmed by the juice of a flower. There are many inexplicable things in this world.” Danielle winked at Delilah and walked away, taking Miss Adeline with her.
Delilah watched her go. What the devil did that mean? She shook her head. Danielle was slightly mysterious. Perhaps it was her Frenchness. Or the fact that she was a spy. Delilah had always admired the woman, but every once in a while she’d say something that Delilah didn’t understand. Usually, it was in French, however.
Regardless, Delilah wanted to finish the scene before Branville arrived. She glanced at her script again. “I do wish Demetrius didn’t compare Helena to food.”
Thomas suppressed his smile. “I don’t believe that is your next line. We cannot rewrite Shakespeare’s words. I highly doubt Jane would take kindly to that.”
Delilah exhaled. “Very well, first Theseus agrees to their marriages, and then Helena says, ‘So methinks. And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, mine own, and not mine own.’”
Thomas barked a laugh. “You don’t sound convinced I am your own jewel.”
Delilah arched a brow. “I suppose I must work on sounding more convincing. What’s next?”
Lucy, having left Lavinia in Lord Stanley’s company, strolled over to join them. “Helena and Demetrius should kiss.”
Delilah blinked. “Pardon?”
Thomas’s brows shot up.
“A kiss,” Lucy replied, as though it were the most reasonable thing in the world. “I was speaking with Jane about it earlier. She agreed that Demetrius and Helena and Lysander and Hermia should each kiss after declaring themselves.”
Heat instantly suffused Delilah’s cheeks. She steadfastly refused to glance at Thomas. “That wasn’t in the original play.”
Lucy pushed a curl behind her ear. “Perhaps not, but they’ve all been granted their wish to marry and declared their love. A kiss is in order, is it not? Besides, Jane says it may help increase the value of the tickets, and I quite agree.”
Delilah scratched her chin. She was nothing if not practical. “I suppose you and Jane have a point, though Mother will not be pleased if she finds out.” She finally stole a glance at Thomas. He was watching her with an unreadable expression. “What do you think?”
He shrugged. “I suppose we must do what we must for charity.”
Lucy serenely glided off, while Delilah resisted the urge to squirm. She continued to stare at her script for wont of something to look at while she wrapped her mind around the thought of kissing Thomas. Her friend. Her best friend. Wait—no, not Thomas. He was Demetrius! How silly she was to forget this was all merely a play. Her spine straightened, and she regained her perspective. “Very well, but get it over with quickly.”
The corner of Thomas’s mouth curled up. “I don’t kiss quickly.”
“Oh, really,” Delilah shot back, one hand on her hip. “How do you kiss then?”
“You’re going to have to wait and find out, aren’t you?”
The heat that had suffused her cheeks began to spread to other more intimate parts of her body. “Very well. Do what you must, then.” She squeezed her eyes closed, puckered her lips, and waited.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Thomas took a deep breath. His gaze slid over Delilah’s familiar face, her creamy skin, her dark brows, her slightly crooked nose. He wanted their first kiss to be special, even if it was a pretend kiss.
He quelled the pounding of his pulse, carefully wrapped his fingers over her slender shoulders, and breathed in her familiar, delicious scent. Then he pulled her toward him and leaned down, closer, closer, his eyelids sliding shut.
His lips skimmed hers, the brush light, ephemeral. She was about to pull away—he could sense it—and everything in him railed at the realization. Before he knew it, he had drawn her closer, heart to heart, and claimed her lips completely. This time, she didn’t try to pull away. With a jolt of delight, he felt her little intake of air, a partial gasp, and when her lips parted, he boldly coaxed them farther apart with his tongue.
Her hands fluttered and came to grip his forearms asthough to hold her upright. Her head tipped back, an offering for him to take more. And so he did. Mindless of their fellow cast members, he deepened the kiss, and shuddered at the sound of the tiny moan that came from the back of her throat. It was so soft, but there it was. For his ears only. And for a moment, he knew with utter certainty that he had claimed her as completely as she had claimed him all these years.
