Every head lifted at once and all eyes were on her, but no one pretended to misunderstand, thank goodness. She would have whipped the hide of anyone who dared to utter ‘who?’
“He will come to visit soon, I am sure of it,” Louisa said. Her normally cheerful smile had been replaced by a worried expression that seemed to belie her words.
“Of course he will,” Addie said.
Miss Grayson wore a kind smile but said nothing.
Delilah looked to Prudence who wore a familiar pursed-lipped look of disapproval which was aimed at Louisa and Addie. “He has not come yet, I do not see why you’d expect him to come at all.” She turned her attention back to the embroidery in her hands. “He has no business with Delilah now that the sordid affair has concluded. If he has not come yet…” She shot Delilah a sidelong look and the disapproval was gone. A flicker of sympathy and understanding flickered in her eyes. “Perhaps it is best to keep your expectations in check.”
“Pru!” Louisa chided. “Why must you be so discouraging?”
Prudence shrugged. “I am merely pragmatic.”
Delilah sighed. It was true. She was. Most of the time, Delilah appreciated that quality in Prudence. Unlike dreamy Louisa or optimistic Addie and kindhearted Miss Grayson, Prudence’s black-and-white view of the world was often refreshing.
But not today.
Delilah scowled at her friend. “Could you at least try to find something positive to say?”
Prudence met her gaze evenly as she seemed to ponder the question. “You are alive and well thanks to Mr. Calloway. Is that not positive enough for you?”
Delilah blinked, the meaning hitting home. Spoiled brat. Ungrateful cur.
She swallowed and looked down at her embroidery, barely seeing the ivy pattern she’d been tediously working on as unexpected tears swam in her eyes.
Perhaps she was spoiled, and selfish, and ungrateful, and every other bad thing she’d ever been accused of being.
But she meant to change all that. She wanted to change, and for a little while there with Rupert, she’d felt like she was changing. The way he saw past all that, the way he challenged her to move beyond the behavior she’d learned as a child…
Yes, she had changed. And she would continue to change…with or without him.
She blinked and a traitorous tear fell. She swiped at it as her heart ached painfully in her chest.
She’d just prefer to change with him, that was all.
The settee sank beside her and Pru’s hand covered her own. “I am sorry, Dee,” she said softly. “I spoke without thinking. Of course he will come for you.”
She did not truly believe it and hearing Prudence be disingenuous out of sympathy was almost more than she could bear.
“I really like him, Pru.” It came out as a whisper and Prudence clutched her hand tighter.
“I know.”
“I maybe even…” She swallowed convulsively. “Love him.”
“Oh, Delilah,” Prudence sighed.
The sympathy in Pru’s voice made her want to weep. Her throat grew so tight she couldn’t swallow and her chest…her chest felt like it might explode from emotion.
But she would not cry.
Quite frankly, she was tired of crying.
All week she’d found herself bursting into tears at the most inconvenient moments, and every time one of her friends or Miss Grayson had rushed to comfort her. But she was so tired of it. It was as though a lifetime of hurts and snubs and being ignored was all coming out this week and she was so tired of it.
She was exhausted from it, truth be told.
Louisa had told her it was good. Healthy, even. That she’d been in dire need of an emotional purge—that was Louisa’s term for it—and that she’d feel lighter and happier for it in the end.
Delilah didn’t feel either of those things.
She might have been letting go of her old grievances but with each passing hour that Rupert ignored her existence, her heart was breaking.
Maybe he’d been swept up in the excitement of it all. Passions had been running high. It was only natural that he’d get carried away. Maybe even say things that he did not mean.
Her heart pounded furiously at the thought of it.
Delilah, to me, you are everything.
She inhaled swiftly as her heart clenched painfully at the memory.
No. She refused to believe that he’d said all that out of some temporary sense of elation. She pulled her hand out from beneath Pru’s and straightened her shoulders.
If he had then…
Well, who did he think he was?
Irritation spread through her at the thought and the urge to cry lessened.
Yes, anger was good. Anger made her feel less hopeless and more in control.
Anger good. Heartbreak bad. That was the simple thought that had her frowning at her friend. “What kind of gentleman goes spouting off romantic things like that and then flees for days on end?”
Pru’s brows shot up in surprise and the others in the room turned their attention her way.
She made a show of arranging her skirts, her head held high and proud. “He had no right to say those things he said if he did not intend to court me.”
Her friends were all staring at her wide-eyed.
“He should never have opened his mouth if he did not mean to marry me,” she continued, anger coursing through her and making her feel like herself for the first time in days. She was no watering pot, and she never had been.
Righteous anger had her coming to stand, her arms crossed in indignation. “What kind of man makes a woman fall in love with him if he doesn’t plan to marry her?” she demanded.
A servant opened the door to the drawing room but she ignored them. She was on a roll. “He had no right to make me fall in love with him. It was indecent and despicable and—”
“Beyond my control, I’m afraid.” Rupert’s voice in the doorway had her whipping her head to see him standing there, just behind
