Page 72 of Bad Luck Bride

“Begging your pardon, my lady,” the voice said from the corridor. “But these aren’t for Lady Josephine. They are for Lady Kay.”

“Me?” Kay rose from the table, and she could only stare in shock as her mother moved aside and a seemingly endless line of footmen entered the suite, each carrying an enormous vase of pure white flowers.

“Where should we put them, my lady?” the first footman asked, looking at Kay over the bouquet in his hand.

“Heavens, I don’t know.” Kay scanned the dozen bouquets lined up in front of her and made a helpless gesture. “Anywhere you can find room, I suppose.”

“But who are they from?” Magdelene asked. She pulled the card from the midst of the bouquet closest to her, but Kay snatched it from her hand.

Ignoring her mother’s protest, Kay walked to the card table by the door, retrieved a pound note from the drawer and handed it to the first footman. “I’m afraid I don’t have enough change for each of you,” she apologized. “You can split this out later, I hope?”

“Of course, my lady.” He bowed and exited the suite, and the other eleven followed in his wake, each giving her a bow as they departed.

“Well, my stars,” Magdelene breathed, closing the door behind them as Kay opened the card. “Who on earth would be sending Kay flowers?”

Kay did not respond to this rather unflattering inquiry. She was staring down at the card, and the sprawling handwriting she knew so well.

Your favorite flower. If you want to know how I know that, you’ll have to stop ignoring me long enough to ask.

—DS

Blasted man, she thought, bemused and exasperated. Didn’t he understand what the word “no” meant?

“But who are they from?” Josephine’s voice interrupted. “Kay?” she prompted when her sister didn’t answer. “Do tell us.”

She might as well answer, since Mama would read the card the minute she was out of the room anyway. Taking a deep breath, she turned around. “They are from Devlin Sharpe.”

“What?” Magdelene looked almost as delighted by that as she had by the prospect of Josephine having a suitor, making Kay more exasperated than before. “Devlin Sharpe is sending you flowers?”

“Not just any flowers,” Josephine put in. “Gardenias, Kay.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “My favorite.”

As she said the words, pleasure rose inside her, pleasure so keen it almost hurt. She lifted the card to her nose, breathing deeply of the scent she loved so well. Just howhadhe known? she wondered. She’d never told him—

“Gardenias are so terribly expensive, too,” Magdelene said. “Especially at this time of year.”

“He must still care about you, Kay,” Jo said. “Why else would he send flowers?”

The pleasure inside Kay became sharper, keener, bringing fear as she realized her own vulnerability where he was concerned.

She jerked her hand down, shoving the card back into the slitof its wooden stake. “It’s absurd!” she cried as she turned away from the flowers and returned to the table where tea had been laid. “Absurd to think a few flowers will change my mind!”

“Change your mind about what?” Jo asked.

She hesitated, but she knew she had to tell them what had happened. There was no way to keep Devlin’s intentions a secret, not if he was so determined to pursue her in this ridiculous way. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for the inevitable scene. “After Wilson and Pamela ran off together, Devlin proposed to me.”

“What?” Magdelene cried in understandable astonishment, falling onto the settee almost as if it were a fainting couch. “Devlin Sharpe proposed? Honorable marriage?”

“No, Mama,” Kay replied at once, rolling her eyes as she reached for a scone. “Illicit relations.”

“Kay!” her mother admonished, sitting up. “Not in front of Josephine.”

“I know what illicit relations are,” Jo said impatiently. “What did you say?” she added, returning her attention to Kay. “It sounds as if you refused him?”

“Of course I did.”

“Oh, Kay,” Magdelene wailed, reminding Kay why she’d wanted to keep the whole silly business to herself. “But why?”

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