Read Online Loretta Chase - The Devil's Delilah by Loretta Chase - Free Book Online
Authors: Loretta Chase
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understand, Aunt," Delilah said, "and I'm deeply grateful for your kindness. I only wish this business were not so expensive."
"Frankly, child, expense is the least of our problems," her aunt answered as she put the green frock aside. "With a mama once an actress and a papa a notorious adventurer — and of course with such a face and figure — you will be prey to every evil-minded man in the kingdom. They will be endlessly casting out lures. I hope you are prepared."
"Yes, Aunt, I know my position is precarious, to say the least. I only wonder," Delilah added dolefully, "if it can ever be made secure. If the men are so busy casting out lures, they may not have time to consider offering marriage."
"It is up to you to behave in such a way to force them to consider it," was the brisk reply. "That wicked Letty Lade got herself a title. Lord Berwick married Harriette Wilson's sister, Sophia, only last year. If noblemen wed demi-reps, why should they not marry a good-looking, blue-blooded maiden?"
"Yes, there must be some senile lord or ambitious Cit who'll be sufficiently blinded by my looks to tumble onto his knees."
"You will not even contemplate marrying into trade, miss," said Lady Potterby sternly as she took up a dark green riding habit. "This is better," she murmured. "Quite dashing."
Then she recollected her grand-niece. "Good heavens, why that long face?" she asked, putting her head to one side like a puzzled sparrow to study the girl. "I hope my frank speech has not lowered your spirits. I only wanted us to face the obstacles squarely, not be overcome by them. Ornesbys are never overcome by obstacles, and certainly not the Desmonds, either." She glanced at the watch dangling from her waist. "Gracious, how late it grows. No wonder you are cross. It is past time for tea."
Tea, it turned out, was an opportunity for a lesson in deportment. Delilah was called upon to pour, so that her great-aunt could size up her command of common etiquette and ability to take instruction. In Lady Potterby's opinion, few exercises so clearly demonstrated a lady's character as her manner in presiding at the tea table.
"Doubtless you observed how Lady Streetham conducted herself," said the great-aunt, watching narrowly as her niece lifted the delicate teapot. "I suppose you were shocked, so stiff she is and lacking in grace."
"My daughter was too busy talking at Mr. Lang-don to remark Lady Streetham's skills," said Mr. Desmond as he accepted his cup with a gracious nod. "I am sure Delilah never even glanced at the tea tray — if she did, I cannot think why such an innocent object should cause her to blush so prettily."
"I am vastly relieved to hear she can blush at all," her ladyship returned tartly, "considering your notions of parental guidance. I distinctly heard her utter two oaths when Joan was pinning up her hair."
She turned to Delilah, who was fuming at the teapot. "In future, my dear, you will confine your exclamations to 'good grief or 'dear me.' But what is this of Mr. Langdon? What on earth could that diffident boy have said to put you to the blush?"
"Perhaps I blushed at my own forwardness in attempting to draw him into conversation, Aunt," said Delilah, darting a quelling glance at her parent. He knew perfectly well why she'd been talking frantically at Mr. Langdon. She'd been terrified the muddled creature would blurt out some quote from her papa's memoirs. She would not have been placed in so awkward and frustrating a position if her papa had not been so obstinate.
Delilah's scowl turned into an expression of dismay as she recollected that Mr. Langdon still had the book. Where was the stupid man? He should have returned it immediately. He'd left Streetham Close hours before they had — and without so much as a farewell.
"What on earth is the matter, miss? Have you spilled tea on your skirt? Did I not just tell you to keep an easy, amiable countenance, as though the activity required no effort or concentration
"Frankly, child, expense is the least of our problems," her aunt answered as she put the green frock aside. "With a mama once an actress and a papa a notorious adventurer — and of course with such a face and figure — you will be prey to every evil-minded man in the kingdom. They will be endlessly casting out lures. I hope you are prepared."
"Yes, Aunt, I know my position is precarious, to say the least. I only wonder," Delilah added dolefully, "if it can ever be made secure. If the men are so busy casting out lures, they may not have time to consider offering marriage."
"It is up to you to behave in such a way to force them to consider it," was the brisk reply. "That wicked Letty Lade got herself a title. Lord Berwick married Harriette Wilson's sister, Sophia, only last year. If noblemen wed demi-reps, why should they not marry a good-looking, blue-blooded maiden?"
"Yes, there must be some senile lord or ambitious Cit who'll be sufficiently blinded by my looks to tumble onto his knees."
"You will not even contemplate marrying into trade, miss," said Lady Potterby sternly as she took up a dark green riding habit. "This is better," she murmured. "Quite dashing."
Then she recollected her grand-niece. "Good heavens, why that long face?" she asked, putting her head to one side like a puzzled sparrow to study the girl. "I hope my frank speech has not lowered your spirits. I only wanted us to face the obstacles squarely, not be overcome by them. Ornesbys are never overcome by obstacles, and certainly not the Desmonds, either." She glanced at the watch dangling from her waist. "Gracious, how late it grows. No wonder you are cross. It is past time for tea."
Tea, it turned out, was an opportunity for a lesson in deportment. Delilah was called upon to pour, so that her great-aunt could size up her command of common etiquette and ability to take instruction. In Lady Potterby's opinion, few exercises so clearly demonstrated a lady's character as her manner in presiding at the tea table.
"Doubtless you observed how Lady Streetham conducted herself," said the great-aunt, watching narrowly as her niece lifted the delicate teapot. "I suppose you were shocked, so stiff she is and lacking in grace."
"My daughter was too busy talking at Mr. Lang-don to remark Lady Streetham's skills," said Mr. Desmond as he accepted his cup with a gracious nod. "I am sure Delilah never even glanced at the tea tray — if she did, I cannot think why such an innocent object should cause her to blush so prettily."
"I am vastly relieved to hear she can blush at all," her ladyship returned tartly, "considering your notions of parental guidance. I distinctly heard her utter two oaths when Joan was pinning up her hair."
She turned to Delilah, who was fuming at the teapot. "In future, my dear, you will confine your exclamations to 'good grief or 'dear me.' But what is this of Mr. Langdon? What on earth could that diffident boy have said to put you to the blush?"
"Perhaps I blushed at my own forwardness in attempting to draw him into conversation, Aunt," said Delilah, darting a quelling glance at her parent. He knew perfectly well why she'd been talking frantically at Mr. Langdon. She'd been terrified the muddled creature would blurt out some quote from her papa's memoirs. She would not have been placed in so awkward and frustrating a position if her papa had not been so obstinate.
Delilah's scowl turned into an expression of dismay as she recollected that Mr. Langdon still had the book. Where was the stupid man? He should have returned it immediately. He'd left Streetham Close hours before they had — and without so much as a farewell.
"What on earth is the matter, miss? Have you spilled tea on your skirt? Did I not just tell you to keep an easy, amiable countenance, as though the activity required no effort or concentration
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