“Yes, ma’am,” said the parlor maid whose turn it was to make notes.
“Now. Anything else? No? Then I’ll add that you’ve all been working very hard and doing an excellent job, so there will be an extra crown in each wage this week.”
A rousing cheer near lifted the roof, before her staff of twenty went their separate ways. She’d learned early on that nothing inspired loyalty and dedication like higher than average wages, comfortable quarters, good food, and regular scheduled days off. The aristocrats of London could certainly learn something from her in staff management, considering how many experienced maids and footmen from noble households approached her seeking employment. If she recalled correctly, even one or two of Tunbury’s maids had tried…
Delilah halted and shook her head. Irritating enough she’d been caught thinking about the duke earlier, but he’d wandered into her thoughts again, damn him. She’d never been so preoccupied with a man before. And it was entirely foolish; he had no reason to return, nor did they have any kind of future. With her own great fortune, she didn’t need a protector or even a husband, just a companion. Love. Passion. Tunbury wanted the very opposite for a wife: a prim and proper blue-blood. Something she would never be.
It was probably best she had to venture out in the carriage to see to her charities. Senior Temple staff were always telling her to rest and let maids or footmen deliver the necessary supplies and bank drafts, but much as she adored the Temple, she also enjoyed leaving it behind for a few hours. Especially as she both resided and worked here.
Rest equaled time to think, and that would be most unwelcome right now.
“Johnston,” she called to her driver, as she departed the gaming room and crossed the entrance hall, “Have my carriage brought around in a half hour. We’re going to take the donations of winter clothing, toys, and boots to the boarding house, and food to the soup kitchens.”
“Aye, ma’am. Bundle up warm now, there’s a chill wind outside. And plenty of mud, so leave your best boots behind for an old pair you don’t mind throwing away.”
“Will do,” Delilah replied, hurrying up the stairs to her bedchamber.
A quick sponge bath, fresh gown, and chignon, and she would be ready to face the world. She tried to visit all her charitable causes as often as possible, to ensure they had everything they needed. The expense might break Mr. Kelly’s heart, but it gladdened hers to help others onto their feet again. As she well knew, misfortune could strike anyone, at any time, through no fault of their own, and a place to stay, hot meal, or new clothing could make such a difference. Besides, if she was busy helping others, she wouldn’t be thinking about a certain duke.
Tunbury needed to be pushed out of her mind for good.
Yes, he had no idea what he was doing, but that didn’t have to be a barrier to success.
Bennett stared pensively at his Christmastide shopping list while he waited for his town carriage to be brought around. He only needed a quantity of sweets, linen for handkerchiefs, and lengths of calico and buckskin, for he had sufficient coins in his safe for the financial gift to each staff member, and the orangery at his country estate would provide fruit. He was fairly sure Clark and Debenhams on Wigmore Street sold cloth, and there were certainly no shortage of confectioners in the area. What he really needed were several sweepers to send ahead and clear Mayfair of any members of the Carlton House set before he arrived. Then all would be well.
“Afternoon, Your Grace,” called his driver from atop his perch, as he pulled up with a flourish outside the front door. “To the shops, yes?”
“Golden Square first,” he replied absently. “Delilah’s Temple.”
The other man looked startled, although not nearly as startled as Bennett felt at the words that had just spilled from his mouth. He had no purpose whatsoever to go there…apart from returning to the scene of his embarrassment like England’s worst criminal. Why would he want to do that?
To apologize for running out on her. A gentleman would do so.
His conscience snickered at the flimsy excuse to see Delilah again, but he climbed into his carriage for the mile-long journey. Even wearing a thick greatcoat over his clothing, he was grateful for the heavy curtains and hot bricks near his feet, for the weather outside had grown even colder and bleaker in true December style. In far too short a time for his peace of mind, they came to a halt in front of the Temple. The fluttering in his stomach was quite ridiculous; he and Delilah weren’t courting for God’s sake!
Shaking his head, Bennett climbed out of the carriage. The cold hit him like a slap to the face, and he shivered as he stomped the mud from his boots before ascending the steps and knocking on the front door. Moments later a footman opened it, smiling politely.
“Yes, sir? Oh, Your Grace. Are you looking for Mrs. Forbes?”
“I am.”
“The mistress is not here at the moment, she left a while ago to take gifts to her charities. The widows’ house and the soup kitchens.”
Disappointment struck hard. “Ah. Well—”
“But she’ll be back soon to unload the carriage so there is room for new purchases before going on to Cheapside. Why don’t you come in and wait by the fire? I’ll have the kitchens send out some mulled wine to your driver and footmen.”
“Thank you.”
The roaring fire soon warmed his cold hands and face, but Bennett felt like a damned fool pacing back and forth in front of it. On several occasions he almost marched back out of the entrance hall as his brain reminded him of his previous cringe worthy actions, but he forced himself to stay. Eventually a briskly familiar voice behind him said, “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
He turned. Delilah wore a simple, unadorned gown of hunter-green velvet, and looked even more beautiful than when she’d worn blue silk. Frustratingly though, he couldn’t read her expression to know if she welcomed his presence or wished him gone. “Good afternoon.”
“Is there something I can assist you with?”
Bennett attempted a rueful smile. “Would you believe I happened to be in the area?”
“No,” she said bluntly, but not unkindly.
I wish to apologize for ruining your gown. For coming on your face.
“I wish to apologize,” he began. “For, ah…the other night.”
Delilah stepped forward, her hand covering his. “It is me who should apologize, Your Grace, for my clumsy words after you did exactly what I hoped you would. Have a good, powerful orgasm.”
“But I…” Cheeks heating, his voice lowered to a whisper. “Your gown. Your face.”
“Good heavens. Think nothing of it. Now, if the seed had gone in my eye I would be a little annoyed, for it stings.”
Shocked laughter rumbled in his chest, but he couldn’t contain it, especially when Delilah winked and grinned. Here she was working her otherworldly magic again, succeeding in amusing him with a jest about unruly spurts. “I am certainly glad it did not do so.”
“Then we shall agree to forgive each other and be friends. So, friend, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”
Bennett rubbed his jaw. “Something else new to me. I pledged to personally provide Christmastide baskets for my staff, so need to purchase items for them. Sweets and cloth and so forth.”