Delilah smiled and excused herself, feeling her heart lift just a little as Miss Jamieson smiled and promised that she would see Delilah again very soon. Leaving the shop—with many parcels promised to be delivered to Lord Denholm’s house that very afternoon—Delilah let out a long breath as she and Lady Newfield climbed back into the carriage.
“You heard what some of the other ladies were saying, I suppose,” Delilah murmured as the carriage began to pull away. “Miss Jamieson was the only one who did not.”
“That must bring you a little joy,” Lady Newfield said, her eyes steady and her expression worried, with a furrowed brow and tightness about her mouth. “But I would advise you to be careful, Delilah.”
“Careful?” Delilah repeated, not understanding. “What can you mean?”
Lady Newfield’s lips twisted. “I mean to suggest that not everyone who comes to you seeking an acquaintance is true in their desire to befriend you, Delilah. Some might come to do so to mock or to tease. Some might do so to share with others what you say or do so that rumors and gossip might come all the more readily to society.”
Delilah hesitated, realizing what Lady Newfield meant. “I understand, godmother.”
“Then be careful and be wise,” Lady Newfield said softly. “It may be that Miss Jamieson is just as she appears and that you have nothing to concern yourself with. It may be that there is nothing about her that is ambiguous and that her eagerness to acquaint herself with you is nothing other than friendship and kindness.”
Delilah felt her spirits sink a little lower, the happiness that had been there only a moment or two ago already fading. “I understand, Lady Newfield.”
A sympathetic smile tugged the corners of Lady Newfield’s lips. “I do not mean to upset you, Delilah, only to remind you to be careful; that is all.” With a sigh, she sat back in her seat, her head resting. “Now, there is an evening assembly we are to attend today, yes?”
Delilah tried to remember, her brow a little furrowed. “Yes, Lady Newfield, I believe so.”
“And if Miss Jamieson is there, then, by all means, speak to her and spend time in her company,” Lady Newfield continued with a wave of her hand. “But do not express to her anything personal, anything of deep emotion that is within your heart. Not until the acquaintance has been a little more firmly established.”
Delilah nodded, biting her lip and wondering if perhaps, through all of this, she had betrayed a little more foolishness than she had first realized. Was society truly as cruel and as disingenuous as Lady Newfield suggested? Or was there a chance that the beginnings of a friendship with Miss Jamieson might turn into a true and lasting friendship that would help guide Delilah through the murky waters of the Season?
Chapter Four
“Another gathering that I have been invited to merely so that I can be a spectacle for Lord and Lady Fotheringham.” Timothy grimaced as he looked around the guests. Lord and Lady Fotheringham held their assembly at the great hall in London rather than at their home—and thus, there appeared to be many more guests present.
Lord Holland smiled wryly. “At least you have been invited,” he replied as though that made a little difference. “Would you prefer to be sitting at home, with only your port and your books to keep you company?”
Timothy considered this, then muttered darkly under his breath. He had not wanted to attend this evening but knowing that his betrothed would be present had forced his hand. He had to, at the very least, allow Miss Mullins the opportunity to become a little better acquainted with him before he began to speak of their marriage. And given that he did not want to invite her to walk with him in a public setting as yet, he had to come to these occasions simply to be in her company for a short time.
“You would not prefer to be at home, then,” Lord Holland chuckled, grinning broadly at Timothy, who disliked intensely his friend’s ability to speak so openly and so frankly about the situation. “Even if you are here merely to be a source of gossip, to speak about Lady Fotheringham’s ball for a few days longer, then what does it matter?”
Gritting his teeth so that he would not throw out a sharp response to his friend, Timothy closed his eyes tightly.
“You are displeased with me, I think,” Lord Holland said with a heavy sigh. “I can say nothing that will please you, it seems.”
“I do not like being here,” Timothy replied, letting out his breath slowly. “I am only here to further my acquaintance with—”
He stopped dead, realizing that he had been about to speak of Miss Mullins but that he had not talked to Lord Holland about her as yet.
Lord Holland noticed the hesitation at once, his eyes gleaming as a broad smile settled on his face. “Indeed, you are going to have to speak of this new acquaintance to me now, Lord Coventry. You know very well that I shall not allow you even a moment’s peace without speaking their name!”
Blowing out a frustrated breath, Timothy glared at his friend, but Lord Holland only looked all the more intrigued.
“I have an arrangement,” he gritted out as Lord Holland’s eyes widened a fraction. “I am to find myself betrothed very soon.” He waved a hand as though it did not mean anything of significance. “That is all.”
Lord Holland’s mouth fell open as he gaped at Timothy, who merely rolled his eyes at his friend’s expression.
“Surely it cannot be that astonishing,” Timothy muttered, feeling a flush creep up his face. “I am very glad that I have found someone so willing to give me their charge as my wife.”
“But this is most astonishing!” Lord Holland exclaimed, only for Timothy to round on him and beg for him to keep his voice a little lower. The last thing he needed was to garner any great attention from the beau monde that surrounded him at present.
“You are to be engaged?” Lord Holland repeated, clapping his hand on Timothy’s shoulder. “And what is the lady’s name, pray tell? Does she know the truth of who she is to marry?”
Rolling his eyes, Timothy lifted one eyebrow, but Lord Holland merely grinned that ridiculous smile of his and waited.
“The lady is well aware of my reputation,” Timothy lied, not telling Lord Holland that Miss Mullins had only been aware of his name and the gossip surrounding him very recently indeed. “Her name is Miss Mullins. She is the niece of Lord Denholm.”
Lord Holland’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened all the more. He said nothing for some moments but stared at Timothy as though he could not quite believe what was being said.
“You are acquainted with Miss Mullins, I think,” Timothy continued, remembering how Lord Holland had been eager to dance with the lady. “You have been introduced to her, yes?”
Lord Holland took another moment or two to regain his speech, his eyes rounding as he continued to stare at Timothy. “Yes, I believe I am,” he said slowly, his words being pulled from his mouth with a great effort as though he could barely find what to say. “I met her at the last ball we attended.”
“Indeed,” Timothy remarked dryly. “I recall you thinking her quite lovely if I recall correctly.”
A strangled noise came from Lord Holland’s lips as he shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts filling it.