“Absolutely not. He is not staying here.”
They spun to stare at Captain Hardy. The only other time Delilah had heard her husband use that voice was when he was addressing soldiers.
Neither she nor Angelique wished to encourage him toeveruse it on them.
Only one of them was married to him.
And so Delilah pulled in a breath. “It’s clear you’ve some history with Mr. St. Leger, Tristan. And while he admittedly cuts the sort of figure that can give a person pause—”
“You don’t think he’s handsome?” Angelique said.
She froze and her eyes flared in amazement, as though a ventriloquist had suddenly commandeered her mouth.
Everyone at once transferred their astonishment from Captain Hardy to her.
“Do...youthink he’s handsome?” Lord Bolt ventured. He seemed to be holding his features carefully still.
Angelique laughed lightly, gave herself a little shake, and waved her hand dismissively. “Ihonestly have no idea why I said that. I suppose I’m a little flustered, as Delilah and I are usually the only two participants in discussions about whether to admit guests. We’re unaccustomed to being escorted across the foyer by two stern men like prisoners being marched to the gallows.”
It was a jest.
And yet it was not.
Neither Captain Hardy nor Lucien took this subtle but unmissable hint. They remained rooted to their places.
Lucien’s eyes remained fixed wonderingly on his wife.
Captain Hardy returned to staring almost accusingly at his.
Delilah interjected soothingly. “More to the point, presentexceptionallyattractive male company notwithstanding, we do not make a practice of admitting guests based on their physical appeal, nor do we stand about and rank it before we make a decision about who we allow to stay with us. And by we, I mean me and Angelique.”
Thusly Delilah and Angelique reestablished that they were the voting bloc. This had been accepted without controversy or comment by both Captain Hardy and Lord Bolt from the moment they took up permanent residence at The Grand Palace on the Thames.
The silence this caused was a delicate and somewhat wary sort.
“Please listen to me,” Captain Hardy said in a voice so insufferably reasonable Delilah clamped her teeth together. “I can tell you definitivelythat St. Leger looks like what he is, and that’s a damned scoundrel.”
It was a startling accusation from a man who never made them lightly.
“Tristan. The Epithet Jar is rightthere,” Delilah said weakly.
But Captain Hardy’s current mood was clearly impenetrable to jests.
“I felt the word would help press my point home. And did you note the theater with the earring? I think he was trying to goad me. That thing is worth several hundred pounds.”
“Is it the earring? It’s his earring, isn’t it?” murmured Lucien to his wife.
Angelique sighed and gave his arm a squeeze.
“If you’ll recall, Angelique and I pawned our jewelry to create The Grand Palace on the Thames. Buying things with jewelry is rather a tradition here. Though of course we can’t accept it. The earring.”
“Can’t we?” Angelique murmured regretfully.
It was worth about a dozen times what Mr. St. Leger would owe them for even a fortnight’s stay.
“Hopefully Mr. St. Leger has some English currency at the ready,” Delilah said.
“Do you know what kinds of men wear earrings?” Captain Hardy persisted. “Pirates and blackguards. Do you know why? So if their dead bodies wash up on a foreign shore, whoever finds them can pay for a funeral with the gold in their ears. And do you know why they’re liable to wind up dead on foreign shores? They are far more likely to murder and be murdered.”
