Page 75 of Lady Scandal
He noted his young sister’s expression and heard the relief in her voice, and he knew that, although Delia’s presence might be causing him any amount of personal frustration, it was a small price to pay for Cassandra’s sake.
“I’m glad,” he said. “You’ll have to tell Mrs. Melrose as soon as you’ve decided things, though, for you’re not giving her much time.”
“No,” Cassie agreed, “and I fear she will be absolutely wild with us. We are changing nearly everything.”
Delia patted her arm. “She may try to bully you about it, but you can’t let her.”
“Won’t you come down to the kitchens with me and talk to her?”
Delia shook her head. “That won’t do. You are the mistress here. You must take charge. The trick with servants,” she added as Cassie groaned, “is to listen, acknowledge their concerns, consider their opinions, and then, if you still disagree, express your gratitude for their advice, and politely but firmly reiterate what you want. And keep doing that until they give in. Sometimes it takes a while. You just have to be more stubborn than they are.”
Cassie, he noted, cast a nervous glance at Filbert and Thomas, but the butler and the footman both remained impassive, clearly accustomed to being discussed as if they weren’t in the room.
“So, no soufflé and no pâté,” she said. “But then, what shall I serve as the first course?”
“Oysters,” Simon and Delia said together, and when she smiled at him, he felt the earth shift again, settling into something new and curiously right, and he decided this was the moment he’d been looking for.
“Are the two of you finished discussing the menu?” he asked. “Because if so, I’m thinking our guest might like to see more of the garden. I’m happy to give her a tour,” he added before either of them could reply, offering Cassie a pointed glance.
His sister’s eyes widened a fraction, making him appreciate what she was thinking, but that couldn’t be helped, and he turned his attention to Delia, who was looking equally surprised. “Shall we, Lady Stratham? There’s plenty of moon tonight.”
She hesitated, a wary, puzzled look in her eyes. “If Cassie doesn’t mind?”
“Heavens, no, I am glad, quite glad, to stay here,” the girl replied with perhaps overdone enthusiasm. “I shall…” She paused, casting a frantic glance around, then she reached for the book on the table beside her. “I shall read my book. It’s such a fascinating story, and I’ve been dying to get back to it all evening. I’m so glad you’ve given me the perfect excuse.”
He didn’t point out that the book was his, not hers, but once he and Delia had donned warm coats and were walking a path lined by lilac trees, she spoke, making him realize that she, too, had seen through Cassie’s excuse to stay behind.
“I didn’t realize Cassandra was so interested in the workings of the internal combustion engine.”
“You saw that, too?” He turned his head, giving Delia a rueful smile. “I fear she’s thinking to do a bit of matchmaking.”
“Well, we both know that’s a lost cause.”
Her voice was light and humorous, but he heard the tartnessbeneath it, reminding him forcibly of his obligation. “Do you mind if we stop a moment?” he asked.
He suited the action to the word, and she stopped as well, facing him on the path. Her face was pale, luminous in the moonlight, and the cold breeze stirred the loose wisps of hair that curled at her neck, stirring his arousal as well.
He snuffed it out and clasped his hands firmly behind his back. “I wanted this moment to offer you my apologies,” he said, stiff, embarrassed, and keenly aware of his own vulnerabilities where she was concerned. “My accusations earlier were uncalled for and most ungentlemanly. I seem to always assume the worst about you,” he added with a sigh, “and though I can’t explain quite why that is so, I appreciate that apologizing for it is becoming a habit with me, one I daresay you are coming to find quite tiresome.”
“On the contrary.” She smiled, a wide, winsome smile that was so unexpected, he could only stare. “I actually rather like this habit of yours.”
“Like it?” he repeated, dazed as usual by the power of that smile and completely bewildered by the words of her reply. “Why?” he added wryly. “Because it gives you the upper hand?”
“As agreeable as that sounds, no, since I never feel like I have the upper hand with you.”
Another surprising bit of news. “Oh” was all he could think to say.
“I like this habit of yours,” she went on, “because it then allows me to ask you for something in return.”
He laughed at that. She was so outrageous, he couldn’t help it. “Fair enough. So what am I to do to make up for my insufferable conduct earlier? Hire you a secretary? No, that can’t be. You seem to have already appropriated mine.”
She pulled a twig of lilac, still bare, from the nearest tree andrewarded his teasing jibe by tossing it at his head. He ducked, it sailed past him, and he guessed again. “My consent to the hothouse? Another dinner?” he added when she shook her head. “Or perhaps an extravagant party for a hundred guests that’s going to cost the hotel a thousand pounds?”
Something flickered across her face, a hint of surprise that indicated his guess might have been right, but when she spoke, her words told him he was wrong again.
“Not a party, no. Nothing like that.” She paused, then said, “Ritz came to see me this morning.”
“Ah,” he said with instant comprehension. Undermining him, after all, was Ritz’s favorite pastime. “Came to cry on your shoulder, did he?”
