“What happened just now,” he said slowly, making sure she registered every word. “That was no accident.”
Her lips parted on an intake of air and he reached for her. He didn’t think about it; his body seemed to be acting on its own as he took her by the arms and drew her close.
Again, he wanted to kiss her. Kiss away her fear and replace the dazed look of shock with a dazed look of passion.
Instead he held her in his arms and showed restraint…to some extent.
She was in shock. Now was not the time for a flirtation, for heaven’s sake.
“How can you be sure?” she asked, her voice breathless but strong.
She didn’t try to pull out of the circle of his arms, and for that he was grateful. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Delilah needed strength right now. She needed support. His arms braced her, held her upright, and though she fought it, he felt the moment she gave in and relaxed, letting him take some of her weight.
She nibbled on her lower lips, her gaze fixed on his chin, which likely needed a shave. Was it any wonder she thought him some uncouth vagabond? For the most part, he was. “If this wasn’t an accident, it means…it would mean…” Her gaze lifted suddenly and met his.
He felt the directness of it like a punch in the gut.
“That would mean my fiancé meant to kill me.”
He wanted to make her feel better, to cushion the blow. “Perhaps not kill…” he hedged.
Her eyes widened and he stopped speaking. He supposed offering the possibility of kidnapping would do little to ease her mind at this particular moment.
Her gaze was unbearably serious as it held his. “Are you certain it was not an accident, or…” She shrugged. “A coincidence, perhaps?”
He didn’t answer, and it seemed he didn’t have to.
She sighed and slumped against him. “I knew it.”
He moved his head and accidentally nuzzled her hair. Well, perhaps it wasn’t all that accidental. He shifted so they were once more comfortably seated, cuddled together in a way that would ruin them both were they to be discovered.
But this was his house, and his servants knew discretion.
And besides…she was a victim. He would help her, as he would any damsel in distress.
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“Hmm?” She’d clearly gotten lost in her own thoughts as they sat.
“You said ‘I knew it,’” he reminded her.
“Oh, I… That is, I only meant, I…” She trailed off with a sigh. “I did something unforgivably stupid.”
He stiffened. “What did you do?”
She leaned away from him just far enough to meet his gaze. “I tried to find proof.”
His brows shot up. “You…you did what?”
She continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. “And I was caught.”
He let out a sharp exhale. “You what?”
She frowned. “Do you have a hearing problem, Mr. Calloway?”
To his surprise and hers a short laugh was shocked out of him. “I suppose the fact that your tongue hasn’t lost its razor’s edge means you are already on the road to recovery.”
Her lips twitched for a second before she adopted an expression of ennui, as if she were bored by the evening’s tedious adventure. “Now I suppose we need a plan.”
“We?” he echoed.
“Of course we.” She shot him a look. “Really, you must try to keep up, Mr. Calloway.”
He laughed under his breath at her audacity. “I merely meant, don’t you think you’ve done enough?”
She huffed in indignation as she crossed her arms, pulling back far enough that he was forced to drop his arms and release her. “If it weren’t for me, you would have no proof that Everley is a criminal.”
That had him straightening in surprise. “You have proof?”
She frowned and waved a hand in the direction of the door. “What do you call that back there in the carriage? That was proof, was it not? I shall tell the world that Everley tried to…to…” She blanched and stopped talking.
He sighed. “That is not proof, love. That’s just your word against his.”
“But you said—”
“I have no doubt it was not a coincidence,” he said. “I saw a footman set off with a message just prior to your departure, and on top of that, the carriage took the wrong route.”
She opened her mouth to speak but he spoke over her.
“But even so, that is not enough.”
She shut her mouth with another huff.
“What exactly did he find you doing today? Take me through it step by step.”
She talked rapidly, starting from the very beginning. She seemed to calm herself as she spoke. As if the very act of recounting it all helped her put it in perspective. For this reason, he found himself asking question after question, even when he’d gotten a good sense of all she had—and had not—discovered.
By the time they were done rehashing the day, the sun had fully set and the servants had brought them a cold supper of meats and bread before leaving them once more.
“So you found nothing in his desk,” he said for the tenth time. Frustration had him tearing the bread in his hands with too much force. Nothing. He’d been so sure that Everley in all his arrogance would make a mistake. Leave evidence or at least some sort of clue that pointed to his next moves.
“Nothing,” Delilah repeated with a sigh.
Delilah, for her part, was using a fork and knife and using dainty movements that seemed entirely out of place with the casual fare and atmosphere.
He suspected she was clinging to propriety for the normalcy it brought to this otherwise entirely abnormal day.
He dropped his food onto the plate and scrubbed a hand through his hair in frustration as he leaned back to study her. “What were he and your stepmother discussing?”
“Wedding plans, I presume.”
“All day?” he asked. “Are weddings truly that complicated?”
She gave him a small smile and he felt his chest swell with pride. It was ridiculous the effect she had on him. It made
