“Clovers have lovely blossoms. And make the nicest honey,” Delilah approved.
If this had anything to do with his reasoning, Lord Kirke opted not to expound. “Checkmate,” he said to Delacorte, instead.
Mr. Delacorte froze. His eyes bulged. “Wha...”
Then he shot to his feet. “BLOO—”
He clapped his mouth closed just in time and the rest of the expostulation swelled his cheeks asif he was blowing into a trumpet. It sounded like “mmmmfffhmph.”
He closed his eyes. Sucked in and blew out a few deep breaths.
Then lowered himself gingerly back into the chair and sagged in defeat.
Lord Kirke smiled at him beatifically.
“Miss Keating, if you like, I’ll take you to Madame Marceau tomorrow morning to choose a new ribbon for your bonnet,” Mrs. Pariseau volunteered. “I’m to collect a spencer they’re tailoring for me.”
During her garrulous first evening when they’d all been given a sherry, Catherine had indeed mentioned she would like a new ribbon for her bonnet.
“Oh, I would like that very much, Mrs. Pariseau, thank you.”
She might not be able to have an entire new dress, but the prospect of a new ribbon was undeniably consoling.
From a comfortable position stretched out in bed, Captain Hardy watched Delilah plait her hair at her dressing table, as was his habit. He found it soothing. It was as if she were sewing up the day, putting a finishing touch on it.
She turned to him. “Do you think women are smarter than men, Tristan?”
“Yes,” he said at once, yawning.
“Is that because you don’t want to sleep on the settee tonight?”
He laughed. “Am I so transparent?”
She laughed, too, and climbed into bed next to him. He stretched luxuriously, crossing his arms behind his head, then gathered her up. She snuggled into his body and sighed.
“It’s so much better when you’re here,” she said.
“You took the words right out of my mouth.”
They were quiet a moment.
“Kirke is a politician to his bones,” her husband said drowsily. “And a provocateur to his bones. He says things like that to jar people into thinking about something they wouldn’t normally, or into thinking about things in a different light.Hemay not even believe it. But I don’t know why intelligence ought to be apportioned according to gender. A man may start out in life believing that sort of thing because it’s what he’s taught, but sometimes I agree with him that the definition of wisdom is knowing definitively how much you really don’t know. Admire him or revile him, I don’t suppose Kirke is wrong about much. So far, anyway.”
“How shocked his majesty would be to hear you sounding like a Whig,” she teased.
“Whigs were His Majesty’s dear friends while he was regent,” he said dryly. “Shockingly, once he became king, he embraced the Tories and the divine right of kings and so forth.”
“I think I’m glad he’s here,” Delilah said. “Kirke. Because from the looks of him, if ever a man needed to lay burdens down for a moment, it’s that one.”
“Any man who gets to sleep under this roof is a lucky one, Delilah. I’m the luckiest of them all.”
“Now who’s the politician?” she teased. “But so true,” she murmured, against his smiling lips, and then he kissed her, long and slow.
“Why pansies?” she whispered after a moment.
And it was a long moment before he replied. “Because your eyes are as soft and dark as their centers.” He ran a thumb across her bottom lip.
And just like that, he’d turned her insides molten.He was not a man of many words; he was more accustomed to giving orders.
