Lavinia dropped one hand to her hip. “Do you think me a fool? You’re obviously making that up to keep it from me.”
Delilah shook her head. “I swear I’m not.”
Lavinia took a step closer and searched her face. “What does it matter if you share it?”
“I don’t know.” Delilah shrugged. “But I promised I wouldn’t.”
Lavinia raised her chin. “Fine, then, you can either give it to me or share it with me. The choice is yours.”
Delilah pursed her lips for a moment as if in actual thought. “I choose neither.”
Lavinia turned on her heel and marched toward the door. “Then I shall tell the Duke of Branville what you’re planning.”
Delilah dropped the belt and clenched her fist, a fist that itched to pummel Thomas’s sister at the moment. “If you do that, you won’t be able to use it on Berwick either, because I won’t give it to you.”Mon Dieu,this woman was difficult.
“Perhaps, butyouwon’t be able to use it either.”
Delilah glared at her. “You’d be that spiteful? To render it useless to both of us?”
Lavinia moved back toward Delilah. Her voice turned cajoling. “Share it. Who knows why that was a rule to begin with? No doubt it was simply because the woman wanted your friends to come and buy a vial of their own so she could make more money.”
Why was awful Lavinia suddenly making sense?
“Besides,” she continued, “at this point, either we both use it or neither of us use it. The choice is yours.”
Delilah eyed the older woman carefully. She supposed she had no choice. Even if breaking the rule rendered the elixir useless, she at least wanted the opportunity to try it. Besides, Lavinia might actually be right about Madame Rosa’s reason for the rule to begin with. Either way, Delilah couldn’t let Branville find out that she’d intended to sneak into his room and sprinkle magic perfume on his eyes. She’d end up in Bedlam if anyone else found out.
The guilt that had been riding her since she’d purchased the perfume multiplied tenfold as she opened her empty palm and presented it to Lavinia. “Fine. Give me your vial. I’ll share my elixir.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The next morning dawned bright and beautiful, the sky a cloudless blue. A slight breeze in the air kept it from being too hot, and both the day and night promised to be lovely. Coaches began arriving from London, filled with playgoers who’d paid a hefty sum to attend the private performance.
Thomas had awakened with the sun. He’d gone for a long ride about Claringdon’s property. A long ride in which he’d had plenty of time to think.
Delilah’s magic potion scheme was madness. It was probably the most insane thing he’d ever known her to get up to, and that list included a great many insane things. But the scheme also posed the perfect solution to his dilemma. He’d been waiting for the opportunity to tell her how he felt about her. But he’d been worried that if she didn’t feel the same, the entire plan would fail and he’d be left without his friend.
Today was her birthday. He’d intended to tell her howhe felt about her after the performance tonight. He’d intended to ask to speak with her alone and confess his feelings, to ask her if she thought she might be able to return them.
Instead, he decided to use her deuced elixir plot to gain what he wanted. He reasoned that he’d be doing her a favor. If Delilah did end up tiptoeing about the Duke of Branville’s bedchamber tonight, not only might it cause a huge scandal—one from which she’d never be able to extract herself—but lovable, clumsy Delilah also might trip and fall on the bed, wake the duke, and horrify him with her forwardness. That would cause her no end of embarrassment. More importantly, Thomas loved her and always had, so the silly fairy dust might just be the perfect way to show her his true feelings.
It was finally time to ask one of the gentlemen for assistance.
Thomas returned from his ride, went to his bedchamber to change his clothing, and met a group of similarly early risers in the breakfast room. After finishing his meal, he waited until Claringdon left the room before he excused himself and followed Derek out into the corridor.
“A moment of your time, Your Grace,” Thomas said.
Derek turned and inclined his head. “Of course. My study is around the corner.”
The older man led Thomas to the large room and closed the door behind them. Thomas took a seat in the leather chair that sat in front of Claringdon’s desk. Claringdon made his way behind the desk and took his own seat.
“What did you want to speak to me about, Huntley?” Derek asked, as soon as he was settled.
Thomas leaned back in his chair. He could only hopeClaringdon was an understanding man. “I need your help.”
Claringdon’s astute eyes searched Thomas’s face. He nodded. “Name it.”
Thomas took a deep breath. “First, I must warn you, it’s going to sound… unconventional and perhaps… odd. Even ludicrous.”
