Madame Rosa’s eyes narrowed, and she reached out one hand. “Let me see yer palm again, lass.”
Delilah pulled off her glove and offered her hand. Madame Rosa extracted the looking glass from the drawer as she had the first time Delilah visited. She cradled Delilah’s hand and examined her palm carefully. “Ah, yes, I remember this hand.”
“You said true love was in my future.”
“And so it is. That is why I sold ye the elixir to begin with… because ye were worthy of it. Yer palm told me so.”
“What does that mean?” Delilah shook her head. “What can I do to fix this?”
Madame sighed heavily and stared off into the darkness. “I suppose in this instance, there is one thing ye can do.”
Delilah lurched forward, desperate hope clawing at her insides. “What? Tell me.”
“Ye’re not going to like it, lass.”
Delilah grasped both of Madame Rosa’s warm hands. “I’ll do anything. Tell me. Please.”
“If ye truly love him,” the old woman said, meeting her gaze with steady eyes that seemed to blaze with the fire of truth, “ye must let him go.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Thomas threw a pebble at her window like he had a hundred times before. And like he had a hundred times before, he waited with bated breath to see if Delilah had heard him and would lift the pane.
He was about to toss another pebble when her shadow appeared in front of the glass. She pulled open the window and stared down at him, her shoulders filling the space. She was wearing her night rail, and her hair streamed past her shoulders. Worry lined her features. “Thomas. Shh.Mère’s still awake.” She glanced back over her shoulder.
“Can you come down?” He cupped his hands over his mouth so she might hear his whispered words.
She glanced behind her again. “Give me a minute.”
The window closed again before it reopened a few minutes later, and Delilah, wearing a dressing gown over her night rail and her hair hastily made into a bun on the back of her head, stuck out her foot and began climbingdown the trellis as she’d done a hundred times before. Her bedchamber’s window faced the back of the house and the darkened gardens, so they wouldn’t be seen from the street. Thankfully, Lady Vanessa’s bedchamber was on the other side of the house, a fact that had always been conducive to their late-night talks.
Delilah nimbly climbed all the way down and hopped off into the grass, and Thomas was filled with nostalgia for a girl who was always game to do things like climb trellises regardless of the way she tended to rip her stockings in the process.
“How are your stockings?” he asked with a grin.
“I’m not wearing any at the moment,” she admitted before her face turned serious and she eyed him warily. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you.” The fact was he’d nearly gone mad these past nights without her. After their trip to Vauxhall Gardens, he’d taken her home. They’d barely spoken two words to each other on the journey. He had no idea if she was angry with him for what they’d done. Did she regret it? How did she feel? He had to know. That had been over a sennight ago. Each time he’d asked to see her since, she’d made some excuse about how busy she was. Tonight, he’d had enough of her putting him off. They needed to have this out, once and for all. There was no time left.
“I’m supposed to be getting married the morning after next,” Delilah said, her voice devoid of all emotion.
“That’s why I’m here.” He grasped both of her hands and found them chilled. “Run away with me, Delilah. It’s our last chance.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she gazed up into his face. “Run away with you?” she echoed.
“Yes. To Scotland. We’ll go to Gretna Green. Yourmother won’t fight us after she knows we’re married. She won’t want the scandal.”
Delilah glanced back up at the looming town house. She gently pulled her hands from his and crossed her arms over her chest. “Mèrewon’t let me go that easily.”
“She will when I tell her that I’ll settle twice the sum of your dowry on her if she does,” he replied resolutely.
Delilah sucked in her breath. She suspected that might do it, actually. Perhaps Mother would be swayed by the figure. Lord Hilton no doubt would be. Her throat ached. Thomas would do that for her? He’d pay a fortune to have her. Because she’d drugged him. That’s what made it so wrong.
But even if she told her mother that she wouldnotmarry Clarence, it didn’t matter because Delilah couldn’t marry Thomas either. She wanted him, but only if he met her at the altar with a heart full of love born of years of friendship and natural, life-given adoration. Madame Rosa’s words rang in her ears.If you truly love him, you must let him go.
She would do it. She owed it to him. But first, she had to tell him the truth.
She sought his hand and curled her fingers around it, even now unable to keep from touching him in this, the last moments before everything changed between them forever. “Thomas, you must listen to me. The night at Lucy’s country house. The night of my birthday. I told you I didn’t use the potion on Branville.”
